-Broadcast-
"Luffy," Buggy's voice carried across the Sky Screen with an authority that demanded attention, "do you truly understand your devil fruit?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge, and Buggy's painted features twisted into a expression of genuine disappointment.
"I've never agree to this ridiculous notion that Devil Fruits are rejected by the sea," the clown continued, his theatrical gestures emphasizing each word. "Devil Fruits represent the most fundamental power in this world—the dreams and desires of humanity given physical form. Yet instead of properly studying these miraculous abilities, people chase after shortcuts, relying on three-color Haki to carry them through battles. I wonder which fool started leading everyone down such a misguided path."
The broadcast sent ripples of uncertainty throughout the world. Pirates who had dedicated their lives to mastering Haki began questioning everything they thought they knew. On Whole Cake Island, Charlotte Katakuri—a man who had spent decades perfecting his Armament and Observation Haki—found himself staring at his hands with newfound doubt. Had all those years of training been wasted effort?
Rayleigh's weathered voice cut through the tension on screen, rising to defend his former captain. "Don't drag Roger into this philosophy of yours. When I served as his first mate, the three-color Haki was already the dominant fighting style of that era. Devil Fruits were considered supplementary tools at best."
Luffy, still processing what he'd witnessed during Bullet's fight with Rayleigh, couldn't shake the stark difference between the two. Bullet had grown stronger with each exchange while Rayleigh had gradually weakened—though perhaps that was simply due to the Dark King's advanced age.
"Rayleigh always told me that Haki was essential for the New World," Luffy said, his voice carrying a note of confusion that hadn't been there before. "Every powerful enemy we'd face would be a Haki master. Since I'm made of rubber, I've barely focused on developing my fruit abilities these past two years."
The admission carried weight. Through countless battles with the island's massive predators, Luffy had indeed developed his Gear Fourth—a technique that married his rubber properties with Armament Haki. But truthfully, most of his "fourth gear" techniques were simply variations of his second and third gear attacks enhanced with Haki coating. The revolutionary advancement that should have defined a new gear simply hadn't materialized.
"I didn't give myself enough time to explore what my fruit could really do," Luffy continued, his voice growing smaller. "I spent every waking moment practicing Haki and completely neglected the Gomu Gomu no Mi that's been with me since I was a kid."
The transformation between Gear Second and Gear Third had been revolutionary—fundamental changes in how his body functioned. But Gear Fourth? It felt more like putting armor on his existing techniques rather than discovering something entirely new.
"I think... I got scared," Luffy whispered, his hand unconsciously moving to his chest where Akainu's magma fist had left its mark. "During Marineford, I was so overwhelmed by everyone else's Haki. Whitebeard's presence, the Admirals' power, even the way pirates and Marines threw around Haki like it was nothing. I became obsessed with that strength and forgot about the power that had carried me across the Grand Line."
Tears began welling in his eyes as the painful memories resurfaced. The helplessness he'd felt watching Ace die, the crushing realization that all his Devil Fruit abilities had meant nothing against Akainu's overwhelming Haki. He pulled his straw hat lower, desperately trying to hide his emotional breakdown from the others.
"Please," Luffy's voice cracked as he slid off his seat. "Please teach me."
Without hesitation, the future Pirate King dropped to his knees before Buggy the Clown, pressing his forehead against the cold stone floor with a resounding impact that echoed through the chamber.
"I want to become stronger! I want to protect the people I care about!" Each word was punctuated by another kowtow, his skull striking the stone with enough force to crack the surface. "Please, Buggy!"
He made no attempt to cushion the blows with Armament Haki—this was raw desperation, the plea of a young man who had watched his brother die because he wasn't strong enough. Blood began trickling from his forehead as he continued the punishing display, each impact deepening the crater his skull was carving into the floor.
"Please!" Another crash against the stone, more blood flowing freely.
"Stop that, you'll crack your skull open," Buggy said, reaching down to physically lift Luffy from his prostration. The clown's painted features showed genuine concern as he examined the bloody mess the young pirate had made of his own forehead. "I came here specifically to find you, remember? Both Rayleigh and I are going to teach you. Your true talent lies in developing your devil fruit abilities—focusing too heavily on Haki training would be a criminal waste of your potential."
Buggy's tone was surprisingly gentle as he helped steady Luffy on his feet, noting the determined gleam in the young man's eyes despite the pain etched across his features.
"Take today to recover from your injuries," Buggy instructed, his voice returning to its usual theatrical cadence. "Tomorrow, Nakime will transport you to Infinity Castle properly. You and Rayleigh should get some rest."
With a dismissive wave, Buggy returned to his elevated seat. Nakime's biwa sang its haunting note once more, and reality shifted around Rayleigh and Luffy until they found themselves back at their crude camp.
Both men stared up at the floating city hovering above the island, the food still settling in their stomachs serving as the only proof that their extraordinary encounter hadn't been an elaborate dream. The transformation they'd witnessed in Buggy the Clown had left an indelible impression—this wasn't the same bumbling pirate who had terrorized Orange Town.
Rayleigh wordlessly began tending to Luffy's forehead wounds with the practiced efficiency of someone who had spent 2-years patching up an incredibly reckless student. His bandaging technique had improved considerably out of sheer necessity.
"I have no objection to you learning from Buggy," Rayleigh said quietly as he worked, "but I need to warn you about something. I can't figure out what caused his transformation—what changed him from the cabin boy I remember into... whatever he's become now. Don't get too emotionally attached to him, Luffy. You've received his favor today, but men like that always collect their debts eventually. The price he'll demand later might be higher than you expect."
Luffy kept his eyes closed throughout the treatment, absorbing every word. He couldn't imagine what Buggy might want from him in return for this training, but future consequences felt distant compared to his immediate need to become stronger. He'd worry about paying that price when the time came.
After a night of restful sleep—the first truly peaceful rest either man had experienced in weeks—they heard the ethereal call of Nakime's biwa echoing across the island. Once again, reality twisted around them as they were transported into Infinity Castle.
The mobile fortress had completely reconfigured itself overnight. Where yesterday's space had resembled an elegant banquet hall, today's layout was distinctly academic—rows of seats facing a central podium in the style of a university lecture hall. But Luffy and Rayleigh weren't the only students present.
"Buggy!" Luffy exclaimed with his characteristic lack of filter, "how did your chest get so big overnight?"
A metal-studded war club whistled through the air, stopping just inches from Luffy's nose as its wielder glared at him with undisguised annoyance.
"Are you blind, Straw Hat?" the woman snarled. "I'm Alvida! What exactly are you staring at?"
The speaker was indeed a woman of extraordinary beauty, her figure enhanced by a form-fitting outfit that left little to the imagination. But what caught Luffy's attention was the familiar clown makeup painted across her features—the same distinctive pattern he associated with Buggy's appearance.
"Alvida?" Luffy's brow furrowed in concentration, the name triggering half-formed memories. "That sounds familiar..."
The Iron Mace Alvida looked ready to cave in his skull for the perceived insult. If this idiot hadn't been carried to safety by her crew all those years ago, his pirate career would have ended before it truly began in East Blue.
"Lord Buggy will be sharing his insights on Devil Fruit development shortly," Alvida said through gritted teeth, gesturing with her weapon for emphasis. "When he speaks, you keep your mouth shut. If you dare interrupt him, you'll get intimately acquainted with this club."
Luffy nodded frantically, covering his mouth with both hands before finding a seat as far from the dangerous woman as possible.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Buggy's voice echoed from the chamber's entrance, and all eyes turned toward the approaching figure.
The clown had transformed once again for this occasion. Gone was the garish red and blue ensemble, replaced by an elegant red suit with golden accents that spoke to wealth and sophistication. His usually blue hair had been dyed a deep emerald green that complemented his pale, painted features. The classic clown makeup had been applied with artistic precision—stark white base paint making the red and black accents pop with dramatic intensity.
The overall effect was mesmerizing and deeply unsettling. This version of Buggy radiated an aura of controlled madness, intelligence tempered with cruelty, power wrapped in theatrical presentation. As he approached the podium with measured steps, one couldn't help but wonder: was this elaborate persona merely an act, or had they glimpsed the true face of the man who had once sailed with the Pirate King?
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