While Buggy and his crew were observing the island, a small black dot appeared in the distance, speeding toward them across the White Sea.
Buggy was the first to notice, and soon everyone else picked up on the movement. Their eyes turned toward the sea as the dot grew larger, until they could make out a small boat-like craft rushing in their direction.
At the helm was a man in his late twenties or early thirties. His appearance was striking—two antennae grew from his head, and a pair of small, white wings sprouted from his back. His expression was flustered, clearly in distress, but he also noticed Buggy's group.
"Sorry! Excuse me—I can't stop this thing! Please, get out of the way!"
The man shouted frantically as his little vessel barreled forward. He had completely lost control of his craft, the Waver, and feared he would crash into them.
Buggy and his crew quickly understood the situation. The man wasn't attacking them; he simply couldn't control his ship. With a shared glance, they cleared a path before the boat reached shore.
The Waver skidded onto the fluffy white ground of the island, eventually losing momentum. After spinning wildly, both man and vessel toppled over in a heap of cloud.
"Are you all hurt?"
The man, sprawled across the cloud, ignored his own injuries and immediately worried for them instead.
Buggy's crew was taken aback. In this world, such selflessness was rare. Despite being the one injured, his first thought had been for their safety.
"We're fine," one of them answered, their impression of him warming. Even if the boat had hit them, it would've done little harm.
Standing up with some effort, the man bowed apologetically. "Forgive me for startling you. You're from the Blue Sea, aren't you?"
He could tell from their appearance that they weren't Sky Islanders.
The crew exchanged confused looks, not recognizing the term. But Buggy understood. "Blue Sea" was how the Sky Islanders referred to the world below.
"Yes, we came from the Blue Sea," Buggy confirmed.
"Then everything here must feel strange to you," the man said politely, concern in his voice. "I hope the White Sea hasn't frightened you too much."
Buggy shook his head. "We're fine, but thank you for the concern."
The man smiled in relief. "I haven't even introduced myself yet—my apologies. My name is Pagaya."
Buggy immediately recognized the name. Pagaya was none other than Conis' father, the craftsman who once welcomed Luffy's crew to the Sky Island.
"I'm Buggy, captain of the Yanhuang Pirates," Buggy replied. "And these are my crewmates."
After brief introductions all around, Pagaya's warm demeanor didn't fade. "If you don't mind, would you join me at my home? I'd be honored to serve you some of our local delicacies."
His genuine smile made it impossible to refuse. Besides, Buggy's group had questions about the Sky Island that only a local could answer.
As they followed him, Pagaya explained his small boat. It was called a Waver, the most common mode of transport on the White Sea. Its propulsion came from a unique Sky Island shell called a Wind Dial.
The crew was amazed—a boat powered by a shell was beyond anything they had imagined. Jessica, in particular, was itching to try it out herself.
But Pagaya gently dissuaded her. "Controlling a Waver takes years of practice. Without training, it's easy to capsize, and falling into the sea is very dangerous."
Even Buggy and Daddy backed him up, cautioning Jessica to stay away for now.
Their path led up a long staircase of white steps, each one carved from the island's cloudstone. Before long, they reached Pagaya's home atop the clouds.
As soon as they arrived, a small figure darted forward and leapt into his arms—it was his daughter, Conis, the angelic girl Luffy's crew would one day meet.
"Father, you're back! Did you catch any fish?" Conis asked eagerly, eyes shining with curiosity as she peeked at the fishing basket.
"Yes, a big haul today," Pagaya said warmly, patting her head with affection.
Her curious gaze then shifted to Buggy and his crew. "Father, who are they? Why don't they have wings or antennae?"
"These brothers and sisters are from the Blue Sea," Pagaya explained gently. "Blue Sea people don't have wings or antennae like us."
"Ohhh," Conis said, nodding seriously, though her eyes still sparkled with curiosity as she stared at them.
Inside the house, the crew was struck by its unique design. The sofa was made entirely of fluffy white clouds, and strange shells were displayed throughout the room. Buggy instantly recognized that these weren't decorations—they had practical uses.
Noticing his interest, Pagaya began introducing them. He picked up a rounded shell.
"This is a Sound Dial. It records and plays back sounds. These are found on the shallows and reefs of the White Sea."
He showed them others in turn—
The Wind Dial, powering vehicles like the Waver.
The Lamp Dial is used for lighting.
The Flame Dial, which stores fire and works like an oven.
The Flavor Dial, which preserves aromas.
The Vision Dial is capable of capturing images.
"There are many kinds of Dials," Pagaya explained. "Our lives here in the sky are deeply tied to them. You could even say our entire culture is built upon Dial energy."
Buggy listened intently, once again marveling at how endless the wonders of this world truly were.