Blu… blu…
As the crew watched the giant serpent slither away, the den-den mushi on Enel's body suddenly rang.
He pulled it out and saw Shura's face on the receiver. Though puzzled, he didn't hesitate to answer.
"Shura. What is it?"
"Enel-sama," Shura's voice came through, respectful yet urgent, "as ordered by Lord Buggy, we went to the Shandians and conveyed his intentions. But… they didn't believe us. They suspected this was your scheme. After much thought, we decided to bring them here to meet Lord Buggy face-to-face and confirm the truth themselves."
Standing nearby, Buggy overheard. He nodded slightly. The Shandians' reaction was only natural. They had borne a centuries-old grudge against Skypieans. How could they abandon such hatred based on mere words from Enel's priests? That they were even willing to come here showed great courage—and perhaps a readiness to risk everything.
"That's fine," Buggy said simply.
Hearing Buggy's voice, Shura understood. After a few more polite words, the line went dead.
Buggy's crew wandered through the Golden City, exploring its ruins. To their delight, inside one of the golden houses, they stumbled upon heaps of treasure—an unexpected windfall that sent their excitement soaring once again.
Eventually, they gathered beneath the great Golden Bell, gazing at the massive Poneglyph carved at its base.
Buggy and the crew studied the inscriptions, but none could read them. Their crew lacked anyone who could decipher the ancient script. Buggy knew the stone likely recorded information about Poseidon, the Sea King—later revealed as Shirahoshi of Fishman Island. Still, he only knew the broad outline. There might also be other secrets here—possibly even clues leading to Raftel.
Buggy decided then and there: they would make a rubbing of the stone. Perhaps someday, they'd meet someone who could read it.
Just then, the sound of footsteps approached rapidly.
From the shadows emerged the Four Priests, leading a young warrior clad in scant armor, his upper body bare. Buggy recognized the distinctive garb instantly—this was a Shandian.
Wiper.
The young warrior's eyes blazed as he beheld the golden ruins. Not with greed, nor with lust for treasure, but with fierce emotion. This land—Apayado—was sacred to his people, the land they had fought for across centuries. Seeing it before him filled him only with awe.
The priests brought him forward.
Wiper's eyes immediately locked on Enel. His voice dripped with suspicion.
"Enel… did you truly lose to these Blue Sea people? Did you truly bow to them?"
The question was sharp, his disbelief obvious.
Enel didn't flinch. "Yes. I lost to Captain Buggy. And I've joined the Yanhuang Pirates."
Shock flashed across Wiper's face. He knew Enel's nature—arrogant, untouchable. For him to admit defeat so plainly left no room for doubt.
Turning his gaze to Buggy and the young crew behind him, Wiper's eyes widened slightly. They were so young. To think one of such age had defeated Enel and the Priests—it defied belief.
"You truly mean what the Priests said? That you'll let the Shandians return to Apayado? That you'll grant us freedom, a share of rule over Skypiea, and promise not to oppress us?"
Buggy nodded.
"Of course. When you return, you may gather all your people and resettle here in Apayado. Your freedom will not be restricted. But in exchange, you must maintain order—you'll share authority equal to the Four Priests. And in times of danger, if Skypiea is invaded, you must fight to defend its people."
That was Buggy's only condition. He had no plans to enslave them. Perhaps someday he might recruit some of their warriors into his crew, but only by their own choice. For now, all he required was their duty to protect the island.
Still, doubt lingered in Wiper's eyes. He spoke firmly.
"Your words are empty promises. I cannot trust them so easily. Can you prove them?"
At that, Buggy's officers bristled with anger. Shiryu and the others frowned—Buggy had extended nothing but generosity, and yet this savage still demanded proof? Insolent!
But Buggy raised a hand, calming them.
"Cricket. Will you come forward and speak?"
Of all present, only one man could truly convince Wiper. The descendant of Montblanc Noland.
Wiper turned as Cricket approached, confusion in his eyes. Why should this stranger's words matter?
"Though you don't know him," Buggy explained, "his ancestor was deeply tied to yours. This is Montblanc Cricket—the descendant of Noland the Liar."
At that name, Wiper froze. His eyes widened.
Noland.
The hero of his people's legend. The one who had been the dearest friend of his own ancestor, the great warrior Kalgara.
Emotion surged through him.
Cricket, meanwhile, blinked at Wiper's fiery gaze, uncertain why he was being looked at so intensely. He knew of Noland and Kalgara's friendship, but still—
"I am Wiper," the warrior said, voice shaking. "My ancestor was Kalgara, the Great Warrior. He was the sworn brother of your ancestor, the hero Noland."
The words struck Cricket like thunder. His eyes widened. Then slowly, a smile broke across his tear-streaked face.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and embraced Wiper.
The Shandian laughed loudly and embraced him.
It was as if, across four centuries, Noland and Kalgara had finally met once more through their descendants.
Buggy watched with quiet satisfaction.
The oath between Noland and Kalgara, passed down through four hundred years of pain, had finally been fulfilled—here, at last, in the City of Gold.