A miraculous scene unfolded before Buggy's eyes.
When the villager finished his incantation, a spatial rift split open above the massive stone, and the item he wished for fell from it.
Watching this bizarre phenomenon, Buggy's suspicion deepened—this had to be the work of a Devil Fruit. No other explanation fit what he was seeing.
After the first villager, more stepped forward one by one, offering prayers and sacrifices. Some even brought their pets as offerings—when the animals vanished, their owners received treasures in return.
Buggy's gaze grew dark. The disappearance of the pets reminded him of the missing children. Could the villagers have sacrificed the children in the same way?
If that was true, then these people were beyond greedy—they had traded innocent lives for worldly gain. The thought made Buggy's blood boil.
Still, he forced himself to stay calm. This wasn't the time for rash action. He watched from the shadows, eyes cold and calculating.
Not every villager was so lucky. A few proudly made their wishes, but nothing descended from the rift. Bewildered, they stood there with faces full of confusion.
The village chief, however, remained impassive, watching with cold detachment. He had seen this happen many times before.
But as the failures grew in number, even he began to frown. The crowd, once filled with excitement, was increasingly filled with disappointment and doubt.
Sensing trouble, the chief approached a downcast villager.
"What's wrong? Why such a face? You can always try again next time."
He asked indirectly, probing for information.
The villager muttered bitterly:
"Chief, those outsiders ate my food. I should have gotten something in return! Could it be the divine stone is failing?"
The chief's heart sank at the words.
He swept his gaze over the gathering and saw more villagers with the same despair etched on their faces.
"Are the others experiencing the same?" he asked a nearby man.
"Yes, Chief. Their food was eaten as well, but like me, they received nothing."
The chief's expression grew darker and darker. Things were moving in a dangerous direction.
"What time of day was it?"
"At noon and in the evening."
"And… did anything unusual happen today?"
The villager fell into thought, then suddenly his eyes lit up as he remembered.
"Chief, earlier today, that fool Reno ran up to the outsiders' captain, shouting nonsense."
The chief's face turned to stone.
"What exactly did he say?"
The villager hesitated, sensing the tension. Then, carefully:
"Something like… 'They eat people, they eat people, run away, run away.'"
The chief's jaw tightened. So that was it. The seeds of suspicion had been planted.
"What became of that brat?"
"Reagan threw him into the sea. He should be dead by now."
The chief's eyes widened.
"Fool! Call Reagan back immediately. Tell him I have questions for him."
He had already pieced most of it together. If Reno wasn't dead, then he might have told the pirates everything. Keeping eyes on Buggy's group now was pointless; Reagan couldn't handle it alone. The chief needed answers, and fast.
The villager sprinted off to deliver the message.
From the shadows outside, Buggy narrowed his eyes. He had understood every word. The chief had begun to suspect that they had uncovered the truth. That meant the window for stealth was closing.
As the villager departed, Buggy slipped away from the cave mouth without a sound.
Inside, the chief suddenly paused. He had felt… something. Narrowing his eyes, he unleashed his Kenbunshoku Haki, sweeping the area with his senses.
But Buggy was already gone. The cave revealed nothing but silence. The chief stood there with a scowl, staring out into the night.
Meanwhile, Reagan, who had been spying near Buggy's lodging in a grove of trees, was startled to see the villager rush up to him.
The villager repeated the chief's questions and orders. Reagan's face paled—he realized something was very wrong. Without hesitation, he abandoned his post and sprinted toward the cave.
When he arrived, the chief stood waiting, his face grim.
Reagan blurted out:
"Chief, what's the matter? Why did you call me here?"
"Tell me—have the outsiders made any unusual moves?"
"None at all. Except for one man who went for a walk this morning and bumped into Reno, they've been inside the house all day."
"Not a single one left afterward?"
"No, not a single one."
"And Reno—the boy. Are you certain he's dead?"
Reagan faltered.
"Well… I didn't see him die with my own eyes. But with his idiot state, tossed into the sea, there's no way he survived."
The chief's face darkened further. That wasn't good enough.
If Reno were alive, then his madness had been a façade. He could very well have warned Buggy's crew, and their sudden seclusion in the house only confirmed it.
"Summon Pete and the others. We'll confront those pirates directly."
There was no choice. If the truth had been exposed, then the only way to salvage they planned to control Buggy and his crew.
Reagan's voice trembled.
"Chief, what's happening?"
The chief's eyes flashed cold.
"That brat Reno was pretending all along. He may have told them everything."
Reagan's eyes widened.
"Impossible! He's been a raving fool for four or five years. No child could act like that for so long."
"Nothing is impossible. Their behavior says it all. Think about it: every pirate that's come here before spent their days roaming the village, exploring.
But after you threw Reno into the sea, not one of these newcomers left their house. They stayed inside, every last one of them.
Doesn't that tell you something? I'd wager Reno was rescued—and he told them our secret."
At that, Reagan's face shifted to shock, then regret. The implications sank in.