Chapter 3: Let's Play a Game
Beep, beep, a quick whistle suddenly broke the silence of the night.
"Gunshots, gunshots on the lower deck!"
"Emergency! Emergency!"
The silent warship quickly awoke as the whistle sounded, and the deck lights pierced the darkness.
Brigadier General Brownie, who was sleeping soundly, got out of bed in silence, picked up the round scimitar next to the bed, and his serious face was full of dissatisfaction.
The officer who disturbed him was scared and paled.
"Report to his Excellency, the Commodore: there was a gunshot from the prisoners' deck. The passage to the lower deck is blocked and a lot of ammunition is missing. It's an emergency, your Excellency!"
Brownie was silent for a while. He was so furious he wanted to scold his subordinates, but he also knew that such an outburst would be useless.
He stood up solemnly, and his height of nearly two meters still felt a little oppressive.
"Since we don't know who did it, let's first kill half of those bastards on the lower level."
"This will serve as a tribute to my precious sleep!"
Brownie had already criticized the prisoner transport process quite a bit. In his opinion, the best way to deal with these atrocious pirates was to execute them directly.
"Three seconds of reaction time?" Buggy drummed his fingers several times, silently calculating the time from the gunshot to the Navy's response.
Not bad.
Of course, reaction is reaction, but it could be another ten minutes before anyone could investigate; after all, he had left quite a few gifts.
The exterior of the warship was steel, but the interior still had the layout of a large wooden sailboat. The main deck was divided into four levels from top to bottom. The second deck was the Marines' rest and living area.
The third deck was the cargo area, and Buggy, Arne, and Musa were also there. It was unclear whether it was because of their weakness or the lack of space on the lower deck.
The fourth deck, the bottom one, the space between the upper deck and the bottom of the ship, also known as the hold, was the most claustrophobic area.
Most of the escorted prisoners were housed in this area.
Buggy walked barefoot on the damp wooden planks, his left shoulder empty and a pistol in his right hand.
He occasionally pressed the barrel against his cheek.
The residual heat of the weapon quickly dissipated.
His steps were firm, neither rushed nor slow.
Clear, clear!
In the cramped lower hold, the sound seemed to weigh on the hearts of all the prisoners.
Arne was anxious. Damn it!
That lunatic fired three shots, and the whole ship knew there was movement among the prisoners on the lower deck. How could he not be anxious? But when he entered the lower cabin, his posture hunched like a quail.
The metal cages in front of him were of different sizes. The largest were four or five meters high, almost reaching the deck, while the smallest were only two meters, about the same size as Arne's previous cage.
The scattered, cold light only revealed the vague silhouettes of the prisoners inside, their shadows elongated. And there were countless pairs of greedy eyes.
It was as if he was suddenly surrounded by a terrifying pack of wolves in the darkness of the night.
Behind him, there was the sound of hurried footsteps, shouts, and the clashing of swords and weapons... It went through several decks and landed right in Arne's ears.
Ahead lay the ferocious and rebellious wolves, and behind him, the flames that threatened to burn him alive.
Arne's heart was pounding in his throat.
"Hehe..."
Luckily, he could still hear the lunatic's laughter. Arne, in fact, found comfort in it.
So, if we release these prisoners, we can fight the Marines outside, right? Naturally, they should be on our side, right?
"Hey, a lost pet looking for milk!" a mocking voice resonated from the gloom.
"If you want milk, you'll have to kneel and beg!"
"If not, I'll shoot the pet!"
"Hahahaha!"
"Pet, if you help me open this cage and kiss my toes, I'll help you deal with the Navy behind you."
A two-meter-tall figure yelled from the gloom, with a voice tinged with jest and excitement:
"You know I'm a pirate with a 100 million bounty!"
"Hahahaha, Joseph, does everyone know how fake that 100 million bounty is?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the other prisoners immediately unmasked him.
A series of sarcastic voices shattered Arne's illusions.
The prisoners here are all pirates.
An uncommon profession that thrives on fratricide.
"It's over, it's over..."
Arne's lips trembled. If these prisoners refused to intervene, how could they face the Navy outside?
And as the ones who caused the commotion, they would probably be destined to be hoisted from the sails and dried in the wind!
"Ah... ah... a lost pet, what a joke! Much better than the one I just thought of."
Neither the mocking glances nor the urgency from outside seemed to tarnish Buggy's good mood. He sat down cross-legged naturally.
With his right hand, holding the pistol, he fired several times toward the most talkative ones.
"What a shame, I don't like other people's jokes being better than mine."
Buggy's expression remained unchanged, as if he had only shot an annoying mosquito.
The prisoners' laughter suddenly died down.
A little pet that was looking to snuggle suddenly pulled out a deadly weapon; that wasn't funny.
But were these two really not afraid of the Navy that was harassing them? Without relying on them, without their help, how could they fight against the Navy that was backing them?
The prisoners' reckless mockery came from their own pampered state. They had heard the shots, the calls for the Navy to gather, and had even seen Arne's timid expression.
But things seemed different now.
Buggy smiled sweetly, seemingly a little dissatisfied with the atmosphere.
"Why, why so serious?"
"How about we play a game?"
"Hmm... how do we play?"
He rubbed his chin. "How about this? Before the Navy arrives, we come up with a name?"
"For example, my friend Arne, I'll call him..."
"Candidate for Mr. Navigator of the Batman Pirates..."
Buggy smacked his lips, and his smile faded.
"Alright, now it's your turn."
"Come up with a name for me."
"Aren't you scared?" a prisoner asked from the gloom.
"If it weren't for us, you'd be dead!"
"No, no, no." Buggy waved his hands and licked his lips. "It's not me, it's us."
Buggy took a long gun from the sack, cleaned it, and aimed several times at the prisoners, full of menace.
These prisoners locked in the cage, no matter how high the bounty, at that moment were nothing more than easy targets.
"Hehehe..."
"Just a reminder: the punishment for the game is that whoever thinks of the solution last will die first."
"Or, if no one thinks of one, we'll all die together."
"What do you think is so fun?"
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