Hearing Sengoku's suggestion, Kong quickly felt relieved. Indeed, as Sengoku said, those brats weren't strong enough to warrant the direct involvement of the people currently in the room. Sakazuki and his peers could handle them.
"So, who among Sakazuki's group is available right now?" Kong turned to Sengoku.
"Sakazuki is here at Marine Headquarters and doesn't have any current assignments. We could send him."
Kong thought for a moment. Sakazuki's strength was undeniable—more than enough to take on Buggy's crew—but his temperament was a concern. Kong worried that instead of bringing back live captives, Sakazuki might return with nothing but corpses.
"I have full confidence in Sakazuki's abilities. I don't doubt he can handle Buggy's group. But I need them alive. If he's the one going, I'm afraid what he brings back will just be bodies."
"That's a fair concern," Sengoku admitted. "But as long as we give him strict orders, there shouldn't be a problem."
"Fine. Then let's give him this mission."
Kong called toward the door, "Summon Rear Admiral Sakazuki!"
The guards outside acknowledged the order and immediately ran off to find him.
Before long, a tall, broad-shouldered man entered, dressed in a red shirt beneath a Marine "Justice" cape, a Marine cap on his head. His expression was stern, his presence commanding.
"Fleet Admiral, you called for me?"
Sakazuki was curious about the summons. Seeing the room filled with the Marines' strongest figures made him even more puzzled. What kind of situation warranted gathering them all here, and why was he called?
"It's like this…" Kong began, recounting everything Buggy's crew had done in the Kingdom of Illusia, explaining Buggy's background, and making clear the reason Sakazuki had been summoned. Kong emphasized one thing above all: Buggy and his people had to be taken alive.
"Understood, Fleet Admiral." Sakazuki's tone was steady, but there was a hard edge. To him, what Buggy's crew had done was nothing short of evil.
Even if the Illusia Kingdom had done wrong, justice should be served by the Marines, not by pirates taking matters into their own hands. And besides, the truth of the matter was still unclear; their actions were no better than those of ordinary pirates.
"Remember," Kong stressed, "alive. I intend to hand them over to the Gorōsei."
"Yes, sir. I will bring them back alive," Sakazuki promised.
With his orders received, Sakazuki left the Fleet Admiral's office without delay, heading to prepare for departure. That was his way—once given a mission, he wasted no time in carrying it out.
After Sakazuki departed, Sengoku and the others also took their leave. The office fell quiet again, with only Kong remaining.
Before long, the "blu-blu-blu" of a Den Den Mushi echoed. Kong's eyes narrowed as he saw the aged face it morphed into—he knew exactly who was calling. He picked it up at once.
"Hello, Lord Gorōsei. What can I do for you?"
It was indeed the Gorōsei on the other end.
"Kong, you've heard about what happened in Illusia, haven't you? How do you plan to deal with it?"
"I've already dispatched Sakazuki. He'll bring those troublemaking brats back, and I'll hand them over to you for judgment."
The Gorōsei fell silent for a moment, then replied, "Good. Make sure you capture them. This incident is a direct slap in the face to the World Government. Once you have them, turn them over to us."
The Gorōsei were furious at what Buggy's crew had done. This wasn't just an insult to the World Government—it was an affront to the Celestial Dragons, and a humiliation for many allied nations.
Buggy's actions undermined the Government's authority. It showed they couldn't even protect their allied nations, eroding trust among member states. Worse, if pirates could openly attack allies without consequence, it would embolden others, leading to more raids and more chaos.
Eventually, such a cycle would cause nations to stop paying the Heavenly Tribute—or even withdraw from the alliance entirely.
"Understood, Lords," Kong replied.
Satisfied that Kong had already taken steps, the Gorōsei ended the call.
Far away, in the grand hall of Mary Geoise, the five elders sat discussing the matter.
"So, another of Roger's crew," said one elder, a swordsman with a dangerous gleam in his eye. "Even with their captain dead, they still don't know when to quit. They're asking for death."
"Hah. Kong will handle it. That brat poses no real threat to us," said a slightly portly elder with a smile.
"Shall we post a bounty on him?" asked another.
"No need. He won't escape Sakazuki's grasp," came the reply. "Better to keep his notoriety to a minimum. And we still have to clean up the mess in Illusia."
"Agreed," said another. "The scandal over the Heavenly Tribute could weaken public trust in us. We must prevent the word from spreading."
A blond, bespectacled elder leaned forward. "The people already suspect, and the press has surely caught wind of it. We'll have to stop them from reporting. Then, we'll need to control the narrative among Illusia's citizens. We can send Government agents to spin this as Buggy's doing—claiming he fabricated the story about human trafficking to seize the kingdom's treasure, and that the king only confessed under duress. We deny any talk of the king selling people for the Heavenly Tribute."
The others nodded. This was the best way to contain the damage—shift all blame to Buggy's crew, and erase any link to the Heavenly Tribute.
Soon, the Gorōsei sent professional agents to Illusia. Using persuasion, manipulation, and intimidation, they "proved" that Buggy had concocted the story for greed, and that the alleged disappearances were baseless. They coerced grieving citizens into retracting claims about missing relatives, forcing them to say they had been pressured by Buggy to lie.
Gradually, public opinion in Illusia turned against Buggy. The World Government also located the late king's son, Shuen Daluka, and—through their machinations—installed him as ruler, earning the support of the remaining ministers.
And so, all talk of the king's human trafficking and the shadowy organization vanished from public memory. The only story left was the one the Government had written: Buggy the Clown had woven an elaborate lie to steal the kingdom's treasure.