Hahaha… I misjudged you. I underestimated you all—and lost.
Though the king still wore a faint smile, his voice had turned hoarse. He knew it was over. They were now completely at the mercy of their enemy, with no hope of turning the tide.
Buggy looked at him, waiting for what he would say next.
"I don't know how you intend to deal with us… but could you let my son, Shuen Deluca, go? He had no part in this matter. If you spare him, I will cooperate with you in anything you ask."
The outcome was already decided. Words wouldn't sway his fate, but as a father, the king still tried to secure a final lifeline for his son.
The name Shuen Deluca rang a bell for Buggy—he was the future king of Illusia Kingdom, the one who attended the Reverie and warned the World Government about Dragon's Revolutionary Army. Buggy didn't need to think long before deciding.
"If your son truly had no part in this, we won't harm him. We'll let him go. But if he ever comes after us in the future, we won't hold back."
Buggy wasn't about to harm an innocent, even if that person might be a potential threat years down the line. If trouble came later, he would simply deal with it then, without mercy.
Hearing this, a light returned to the king's eyes. His spirit seemed to revive slightly. He stood and bowed deeply toward Buggy and his crew in gratitude.
"Then… what do you want me to do? How should I end my life?"
He knew they must have a purpose. Otherwise, they would have already killed everyone here without all this talk.
"You will gather everyone here and announce your crimes to the people of your kingdom—and submit to their judgment."
Simply killing them all would bring nothing but lingering trouble, even earning the hatred of Illusia's citizens. And the truth about the human trafficking ring would be buried forever. Buggy wanted the truth exposed, so the people would know exactly who had wronged them—and so their fury would be directed at the real culprits, not at outsiders.
If the people heard the truth and judged the culprits themselves, it might even turn Buggy's crew into folk heroes.
The king and the others in the room went pale. Some trembled outright.
They knew that confessing in front of the people and facing public judgment could be far crueler than death. Under the rage of thousands, they might be torn apart—literally.
"My lord, I beg you to show mercy… even if you were to end us here and now, I wouldn't complain. But if the commoners learn the truth, our fate may be worse than death."
Buggy had already foreseen this protest. The wrath of the masses was never easily contained.
At that moment, several people's eyes darted toward the walls, as if steeling themselves for something.
Buggy noticed. He could guess what they were thinking.
"Don't even think about killing yourselves here. If you die now, I can't guarantee the safety of your family. But if you face the people's judgment, I will personally protect your innocent relatives from retaliation. And… I'll even allow you to take poison before death, so you won't suffer too much."
That sobered them instantly. They knew the mob would vent its fury on their families if they died prematurely, no matter how innocent or weak those relatives were. But if Buggy gave his word, their loved ones could survive.
"Really?" asked a middle-aged noble, hope flickering in his eyes. His child was only a few years old. If the boy could live, he would accept his fate without regret.
"I have no reason to lie. I give you my word as a man of the sea—I keep my promises."
"Alright. I agree."
"I agree as well."
"Me too."
"And I."
One after another, they accepted. Most of them had families; none wished to drag their loved ones into this.
"May we discuss among ourselves?" the king asked. Their fate was sealed, but they wanted to choose their manner of death—no one wished to die in agony.
"You may."
They conferred quietly, then the king produced a royal secret medicine—a swift-acting, painless poison—and distributed it to everyone except Buggy's crew.
The plan: when the mob's fury reached them, they would endure for a short while, then take the poison. The delay was to avoid arousing suspicion among the people.
Once the decision was made, the king ordered a noble to summon the captain of the palace guard and instruct him to gather the citizens in the capital's main square the following morning for an important royal announcement.
The next day, the captain dispatched his soldiers to spread the word across the city.
The people heard the summons, quickly tidied themselves, and made their way to the palace square, curious about what their king had to say.