The silence that followed Crocodile's question could've frozen the desert outside.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Not even the cigar smoke dared to curl between them.
Then, slowly, Crocodile's lips curled into a sneer. "You've got a sharp tongue for a man with a painted nose," he said, voice low and venomous. "And I despise that name. I should've killed everyone who ever dared to say it."
Buggy grinned, spreading his arms theatrically. "Oh, don't be such a drama queen, Croco-boy~ You'll wrinkle that pretty face if you keep scowling like that."
The cigar in Crocodile's mouth cracked between his teeth.
"Kill him," he said simply.
The room exploded into motion.
Mr. 1 moved first, faster than anyone else could even react, a flash of steel, his forearms transforming into gleaming blades as he lunged. Buggy barely tilted his head as the swordsman's arm sliced down with lethal precision.
The impact was soundless, as Mr. 1's steel-blade arms slashed right through Buggy's torso. It had literally zero effect.
A jagged dent marred the steel of Mr. 1's head as Buggy followed up with a brutal elbow strike to the back of his skull, sending him staggering forward.
"Ow ow ow ow ow!" Buggy winced, shaking out his arm. "Jeez! You've got a thick head, you know that?! My bones are screaming!"
Mr. 1 rubbed the back of his head, eyes narrowing. A faint dent shone there, the first time anyone had ever left a mark on him while he was hardened.
The agents looked stunned. Even Crocodile raised an eyebrow.
"BAHAHA! Don't look so surprised!" Buggy crowed, shaking out his arm and cracking his neck. "I'm not just for show! Got some muscle to match the makeup, boys!"
"Get him!" Crocodile barked.
Mr. 3 and Mr. 5 lunged together, coordination born of panic rather than planning.
Mr. 3's wax shot out like a white tidal wave, aiming to encase Buggy in an instant, while Mr. 5 flicked one of his glowing, explosive boogers right after.
Buggy grinned. "Oh, this'll be fun."
He ducked under the wax flow, parts scattering once more as he grabbed the heavy mahogany table with one hand and flipped it.
The thing spun through the air like a massive wooden disc.
"Wait, WAIT-!"
BAM!
The table slammed straight into both agents, knocking the wind out of them and sending the wax erupting all over Mr. 5's face.
The result was spectacular: a muffled BOOM! and a fresh layer of singed hair coating the floor.
Buggy clapped once. "Now that's teamwork! You two make a great fireworks act!"
"IDIOTS!" Miss Merry Christmas screamed, diving underground with her mole-like partner. They burst from the sand behind Buggy, fangs and claws bared, only for Buggy's detached hand to clamp over Miss Merry Christmas's face mid-leap.
"Peekaboo!"
He slammed her back into the floor, spun her like a top, and used the momentum to throw her straight into Mr. 4 and his absurd dog-gun combo. The collision made a sound like bowling pins toppling.
Bon Clay pirouetted forward, hands glowing pink. "Now that's FABULOUS! But allow me to show you the beauty of-"
Buggy's fist flew off and socked him right in the crotch mid-pose.
"-Testicular torsion!"Buggy finished for him.
Bon Clay howled, spinning like a ballerina gone rogue, as he tumbled to the ground and was left to lick his wounds.
The room was chaos now, wax, fire, sand, and laughter mixing into a wild, surreal storm.
Robin, the only one not moving, stood by the far wall, watching. Her eyes glimmered with quiet amusement as Buggy tore through Baroque Works like a one-man carnival of destruction.
He wasn't invincible, far from it, but the sheer unpredictability of his attacks made him untouchable.
One second, he was in pieces, the next he was whole again, grinning like the world's most dangerous jester. His title and bounty were certainly well-deserved...
Then Crocodile stepped forward.
The room stopped.
Sand poured from his shoulders like a cloak. "You talk too much," he said coldly, hook gleaming under the lamplight. "And you've made a mess of my casino."
Buggy gave a lazy shrug. "Hey, I only make messes worth cleaning up. You should thank me, your interior decor was boring anyway."
Crocodile's eyes narrowed. "Desert Spada."
He swung his hook, and the floor split open with a roar, a blade of compressed sand tearing through the chamber, slicing Buggy in half at the waist.
The dust settled.
The upper half of Buggy's body turned around slowly, hovering midair. He blinked, looked down at his missing legs, and then up at Crocodile.
"Oh wow, congrats. That was a nice party trick. Do I clap, or do you want a medal?"
Then he spat.
A thick glob of spit hit Crocodile square in the face.
The silence that followed was biblical.
No one moved. No one breathed. The great Sir Crocodile, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, had just been spat on by a clown.
He froze for a full second, as if his brain had blue-screened. Then his cigar dropped from his mouth.
"You-"
Before he could finish, a shadow fell across him.
Buggy's detached leg came spinning down from above like a missile and slammed straight into Crocodile's jaw with a THWACK! that echoed through the chamber.
The warlord flew backward, crashing through a column, the entire building shaking from the impact.
Buggy reattached his leg, cracked his knuckles, and smirked. "You know, for someone with such obvious weaknesses, you sure act like tough shit. Ever think of moisturizing, Sand-boy?"
Mr. 1 moved again, but Buggy was already in motion. Dodging him with ease.
He twisted midair, sending his knives from his belt spinning out in a perfect arc. They didn't aim to kill, just to mock, pinning Mr. 3's tie, Miss Valentine's dress, and Bon Clay's scarf all to the wall in one fluid motion.
Robin couldn't help it. She laughed. A small, real laugh that slipped past her usual mask.
Buggy caught it instantly. "See? She gets it!" he said, pointing at her while avoiding another wave of sand.
"Don't encourage him!" Mr. 3 wheezed, trying to free himself.
Crocodile rose from the rubble, wiping the spit from his face with gloved fingers. His golden hook gleamed, and the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. "I'm going to kill you, clown."
Buggy grinned wider. "You can try, Croco-boy~ But you'll only make me laugh harder."
"Desert Encierro!"
Sand erupted from the floor, forming a massive cage around Buggy, swirling tighter and tighter like a crushing vice.
Buggy crossed his arms, waited a beat, and then, pop! exploded into a shower of colorful confetti.
The dust raised and chaos did wonders to mask Buggy's parts.
The sand cage slammed shut on empty air.
"Where-?"
"Behind ya~"
Crocodile turned and caught another blob of spit delivered this time through an uppercut to the chin that sent one of his teeth flying.
Buggy didn't stop there. His pieces moved like a storm: a knee to the gut, a hook to the jaw, and a slap to the face for comedic emphasis.
Every motion was fast, ridiculous, and perfectly timed to hit yet another blob of spit right before striking Crocodile's body.
The once-deadly meeting now looked like a circus brawl orchestrated by the devil himself.
Finally, Buggy detached his hand, fished into his coat, and flicked something small and metallic toward Robin.
She caught it effortlessly, a folded note sealed with wax shaped like a laughing skull.
Buggy winked. "Give that a read later, sweetheart. You'll love it."
Crocodile roared, swinging his hook one last time. Buggy's body scattered again, legs flying one way, arms another, before reforming near the shattered ceiling.
"Welp, I'd love to stay and clown around some more," he said cheerfully, "but I've got another date with Lady Luck! I'll find myself some better casinos; Blackjack doesn't play itself!"
He reached into his coat again, pulled out a small, round object with a painted smiley face, a Buggy Grenade, and tossed it over his shoulder.
"Buggy Grenade Special! Make sure to pick different furniture next time!"
The explosion that followed was spectacular.
The casino's dome erupted in a blossom of light and color, fireworks bursting through the ceiling as Buggy shot upward, laughing hysterically.
"BAHAHAHAHAHAHA! BEST BLACKJACK GAME EVER!"
Sand and stone rained down as the Warlord of the Sea screamed his name, but Buggy was already gone, a streak of red and gold vanishing into the sunset.
-
-
-
Mere moments later, the desert wind carried the smell of smoke and chaos to a group trudging across the dunes.
The Straw Hat crew stood at the ridge overlooking Rainbase, or what was left of it.
"What the hell happened here?" Nami gasped.
"Looks like a warzone," Zoro muttered, scanning the distant fires.
Usopp's jaw dropped. "W-Was this… Crocodile's doing?!"
Vivi's hands trembled. "No… this is Rain Dinners. That's… that's his casino."
A flaming roulette wheel rolled past them, somehow still spinning.
Then Sanji pointed toward the horizon, where faint smoke trails twisted into the shape of a laughing skull with an odd nose.
"...Or maybe," he said dryly, "it was that clown again."
Luffy squinted, then grinned. "He beat us here!"
"Who?" Nami asked, still trying to take in the devastation.
"Buggy!" Luffy laughed. "Man, that guy's fast! Well, I guess he can fly, so it wasn't fair to begin with..."
Usopp looked horrified. "You mean the clown guy did all this?!"
Luffy just smiled wider, eyes sparkling. "Shishishi~ Ain't that awesome?"