Chapter Text
The aftermath of the battle at Karai Bari was a chaotic mess of black smoke and splintered wood. The Marines had been pushed back, but they left behind a graveyard of wrecked ships and bodies.
As the dust settled, Crocodile exhaled a thick cloud of cigar smoke, adjusting his heavy cloak with a bored look. Nearby, Mihawk wiped Marines' blood off the blade of Yoru. His face was as cold and unreadable as ever.
"Tch. Annoying," Crocodile muttered, stepping over a pile of unconscious Marines. "Where is that clown? I assume he’s still shivering under a pile of gold in the treasure vault."
"Let him be," Mihawk replied coldly. "As long as his face is on the posters to draw the heat away from us, his cowardice is a useful tool. I have no interest in chasing him down."
They headed back to the central tower. Neither of them gave a second thought to the fact that they hadn't seen their "Emperor" since the first cannonball was fired.
---
By the next morning, the island felt eerie. Usually, by 8:00 AM, Buggy’s voice would be blasting over the loudspeakers, screeching about his "magnificent brilliance" and demanding a flashy celebration for another victory he doesn't even help with. But today, there was only the sound of seagulls and the distant hammering of pirates fixing the docks.
Crocodile sat in the boardroom, sipping a double espresso and looking over bounty lists. Mihawk was by the window, quietly sharpening his Kogatana. The silence was actually quite pleasant for once, until the heavy oak doors creaked open.
Mohji and Cabaji stepped in, looking unusually pale. Even Richie was whimpering, his ears backward and his big tail tucked between his legs like a sad puppy.
"U-um... Excuse us, Sirs," Mohji stammered, nervously twisting his fur vest in his hands.
Crocodile didn't even look up from his papers. "If you're here asking for berry to buy confetti or giant circus balls again, get out."
"It's not that!" Cabaji blurted out, his cool act totally gone. "It’s the Captain. He didn’t show up for the morning roll call. We checked his bedroom, the buffet, the big tent... we even checked his secret workshop. He’s gone."
Workshop? Crocodile narrowed his eyes. He’d have to check what kind of treasures the clown was hiding in there later. He lowered his newspaper and let out a tired sigh. "He’s likely still hiding. Check the basement or the empty wine barrels."
"We checked everywhere!" Mohji cried, sounding like he was about to burst into tears. "Richie tried to sniff him out, but the scent just stops at the edge of the northern cliffs."
Cabaji stepped forward and held up a bundle of clothes. It was Buggy’s captain’s coat, his shirt, and his sash, even his stupid underwear with red hearts. Mohji confirmed they were the exact clothes he was wearing during the attack.
"There was blood on the ground near these," Cabaji said, his voice shaking. "But the clothes themselves... they aren't stained. There isn't a single rip or bloodstain on the fabric. We’re hoping the blood isn't his."
Mohji frowned, looking at Richie. The lion had been clearly upset when he found the blood. Richie was sure it was Buggy's blood, but it made no sense.
If Buggy was hurt, why were his clothes left behind in a pile? Was he forced to undress? Was it one of his weird plans to get away and it failed?
Mihawk’s golden eyes shifted toward the pirates. "He was actually fighting? I find that hard to believe."
"He was blocking the Marines that made it to land and he was winning!" Mohji corrected him, feeling a spark of defensive pride for his boss. "I saw him! But then more ships tried to dock, and I had to go fight them with Richie. I haven't seen him since then."
Crocodile narrowed his eyes, his teeth biting down hard on his cigar. If Buggy had actually been captured, the entire "Emperor" facade of the Cross Guild would fall apart. They needed that clown to stay the face of the organization so they could work from the shadows.
"Daz," Crocodile called out, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl.
His loyal subordinate, Mr. 1, entered the room instantly.
"Find the clown," Crocodile ordered. "Tell him if he doesn't show his face in ten minutes, I will take his head and turn it into a lamp."
Daz Bonez nodded and left without a word.
Crocodile glared at Mohji, Cabaji, and the shivering lion before waving them away.
"He’ll turn up when he’s hungry," Crocodile snapped. "He’s probably hiding somewhere butt-naked, trying to save whatever tiny bit of dignity he has left. Get back to work."
Once the door slammed shut and they were alone, Mihawk sheathed his small dagger with a sharp, metallic click. He leaned back against the window frame, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon where the battle had taken place.
He would wait for Daz to return, hopefully with the jester in tow, crying and begging for forgiveness like he always did. But there was a heavy, nagging feeling in his gut that wouldn't go away.
Something felt off, and Mihawk had a feeling that whatever happened was about to make their lives a whole lot more complicated.
Crocodile noticed the look on Mihawk’s face and let out a short, dry huff of a laugh that sounded more like a cough. He leaned back in his chair, blowing a thick ring of smoke toward the ceiling.
"What’s with the look, Hawk-Eyes?" Crocodile asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't tell me you're actually worried about the clown. I didn't think you had a heart left to break."
Mihawk didn't even blink, his gaze still fixed on the empty northern cliffs. "I am worried about our cover, Crocodile. If the figurehead is gone, the world looks at us. And I prefer my privacy."
"Please," Crocodile sneered, though he tapped his hook against the table a bit too fast. "The idiot probably fell into a hole and can’t get out. Or he’s staging some 'flashy' disappearance to get more attention. He’ll crawl back the second he hears a dinner bell, covered in snot and excuses. He's too annoying to die."
Despite his words, Crocodile’s eyes kept drifting toward the door. He was waiting for Daz to walk in, but the longer the silence stretched, the dread of more paperwork filled him with annoyance.