The mysterious voice echoed once again, calm yet theatrical:
"Question: Who knocked Garp over during the Summit War and rescued Ace?
This is a multiple-choice question.
A. Buggy the Clown, former Roger Pirates intern.
B. The Warlord, Sir Crocodile.
C. Monkey D. Luffy, Captain of the Straw Hat Pirates.
D. Marshall D. Teach, of the Whitebeard Pirates.
You have one minute — the clock starts now."
The entire Moby Dick fell into stunned silence. Then, laughter burst like cannon fire.
Ace was too stunned to speak. Whitebeard's commanders stared at the floating screen, caught somewhere between disbelief and hilarity.
"Buggy the Clown?" Marco muttered. "That can't be serious."
"Maybe it's D," someone said thoughtfully. "Teach. Who else could it be?"
"Right! Teach, you sly fox! Knocked Garp over with one punch, huh? Been hiding your strength all this time?"
They hooked their arms around Teach's shoulders, grinning.
Teach gave a dry laugh. Inside, he was panicking. Knock Garp over with one punch? Me? Unless Garp tripped himself!
He scratched his head and stammered,
"N-no, absolutely not. You know my strength. If I were there, of course I'd save Ace — we're brothers, right? But knocking Garp over… maybe he just, uh… went easy on me?"
The crew burst into laughter again. For a moment, the tension of the live broadcast faded beneath the absurdity of it all.
Even Ace couldn't help a wry smile. Somewhere deep down, he knew this was only delaying the inevitable.
Marco leaned forward, wings half-spread.
"Ace, you're the one being rescued here. What do you think?"
Meanwhile, far away in Marineford, Garp sat in grim silence. The veins on his temple twitched.
Buggy? Really?
He had been ready to face any accusation, but not this. Not Buggy the Clown.
And now the world thought he'd gone easy on a circus act.
Around him, Marines exchanged uneasy glances. The idea that their legendary hero had been "taken down" by a clown with a red nose was spreading like wildfire through the ranks — and through the world beyond.
To the civilians, already furious after learning that Garp had raised the Pirate King's son, this was the final insult.
A man in a tavern slammed his cup.
"So the Marines let pirates do whatever they want now?!"
Another spat, "First the Pirate King's brat, now this clown? Who's next, a jester Admiral?!"
Without the internet, the outrage couldn't gather momentum — but the disbelief was everywhere.
Back at Headquarters, Sengoku rubbed his temples, barely holding onto his composure.
"Go find out who this Buggy is."
Brannew stepped forward, adjusting his glasses nervously.
"Marshal Sengoku… I know of him. Buggy the Clown — a pirate from East Blue. A while back, he caused a small incident in Orange Town. His bounty is… fifteen million."
The room fell silent.
Fifteen. Million.
A faint crack ran through Sengoku's composure.
"One five… million?" he repeated slowly, as though the number itself offended him.
"Well, sir," Brannew continued cautiously, "he was on Roger's ship. Perhaps he was… keeping a low profile?"
For a long moment, no one spoke. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
And then, quietly, someone in the back snorted. Another followed. Soon, even the officers were choking on suppressed laughter.
Garp groaned, burying his face in one hand.
Across the sea, Buggy himself sneezed violently on a nameless island.
"Who's talking about me?!" he barked, before tripping over a rock and falling face-first into the sand.
Somewhere, fate itself was laughing.
"Even clowns can shake the world," a stray thought drifted through Garp's mind, half ironic, half resigned. "All it takes… is the right stage."
And the world — cruel, absurd, and impossibly vast — kept watching.