Pirate: I, Buggy, am the Emperor, the Emperor of the Clown King!

Chapter 53 The Game Punishment Begins, Click

The pale moonlight shone on the square of Whiskey Peak town.

Bucky's game is over, so the surviving Baroque Works staff have been gathered here.

This applies to both those who are caught and sentenced to death, and those who escape execution by jumping into the river.

Mochi stood in the center of the crowd, his shoes covered in a pool of blood that hadn't dried yet, and he was as excited as if he'd been injected with chicken blood.

He cracked his whip in the air: "What are you all standing there for? Drag these scum over and line them up!"

"Take it one at a time, don't rush, we have plenty of time tonight!"

"Did you hear what Mochi said?" Kabaji held a knife in his hand, his voice clearly piercing the ears of the prisoners. "Line up, one at a time. Anyone who moves—don't blame my knife for being blind."

His knife tip paused for a moment in front of someone, who trembled.

Although tonight's events were Bucky the Clown's game, Cabaji was still very unhappy that these guys from Baroque Works dared to use traps to harm them.

What?

You're saying they deliberately fell into the trap?

We're pirates!

The pirate henchmen rushed forward and dragged the prisoners off the ground, pulling and shoving them into a line.

Some of the prisoners were crying, some were trembling, and some were so frightened that their eyes were wide open and they were muttering something that no one could understand.

Several tried to resist, but were punched in the stomach and curled up like shrimp, then dragged to the back of the line.

This is the world of One Piece.

This is what pirates are like.

Real pirates are not the kind of beautified figures they are portrayed as.

Ikaram sat at the front of the line, his chest was caved in, several ribs were broken, and with each breath he could feel a grinding sound from inside his body, like a toothache.

Ikaram's white curly hair was covered in dust and bloodstains; there was no trace of the enthusiastic mayor he had been during the day.

"Ikaram——————" Miss Monday knelt beside him, her dark face expressionless.

After realizing something was wrong and Bucky the Clown announced the rules of the game, Miss Monday decisively dashed into the river.

While running away is shameful, it is indeed very useful.

In particular, she is currently the most technically skilled member of the Whisky Peak Baroque Studio, and she actually managed to escape the previous pursuit.

"Miss Monday," Icarus's voice was calm. "Hands are more important than legs. Please cut off my legs. I still need hands to do things."

When Icarum said this, he thought of Princess Vivi—even if he could no longer serve Princess Vivi in ​​the future, he must tell the princess the truth about what happened tonight.

Icarus thought of his wife; he couldn't die yet, he couldn't become a useless person.

A person with missing legs can still use a wheelchair, but someone with missing hands is truly doomed.

Miss Monday's pupils contracted slightly.

Although she is a member of the Baroque Workshop, she is not the particularly cruel or cold-blooded type.

Miss Monday and Icarus are partners at Baroque Studios.

"Hurry," Icarum urged, the tremor in his voice betraying his fear.

Before I regret it.

Miss Monday gritted her teeth and took a knife from a pirate henchman next to her.

She raised the knife, the blade flashing briefly in the moonlight: "I'm sorry, Icarum."

Miss Monday decisively brought down the knife.

puff.

Blood gushed from her thigh, splattering all over Miss Monday's face.

She didn't wipe it; she just threw the knife on the ground, pressed down on Icarus's severed leg with both hands, and pressed hard to stop the bleeding.

"————Ugh————" Icarus gritted his teeth, and the veins on his forehead bulged out one by one.

But he didn't yell; he's a tough guy.

Icarum looked up at the pale moon in the sky, something swirling in his eyes.

Even the toughest man can endure the pain, but he can't suppress his body's instinctive reactions.

Tears streamed down her face.

A chorus of similar voices began to rise from within the ranks.

"Cut off my feet! Leave my hands!"

"Left hand, left foot! Keep your right hand!"

"Hurry up! Don't dawdle!"

puff.

puff.

puff.

With each swift stroke of the blade, blood splattered everywhere.

"what!"

"Ughhh!"

Some people were screaming, some were crying, and some had fainted.

The dull thud of a blade striking bone, mixed with the hissing sound of blood splattering, echoed across the square.

Those who carried out the executions alongside the people being executed were members of the Baroque Studio who had been taken to the river.

Unlike Miss Monday, who remained calm, some of these people were forced to take action against their former comrades, and some of them were under immense mental pressure.

"Madmen—these pirates are all madmen—"

"That...he's not even human!"

A few indecisive individuals who hesitated to act were kicked over by Mochi, and with a flash of Kabaji's blade, they would never have to hesitate again.

Bucky said that those who jumped into the river would live tonight, so Kabaji wouldn't kill those who successfully escaped into the river.

However, those who were executed are not included in this category.

"If you don't help your comrades, then your comrades don't deserve to live."

As Kabaji spoke, parts of his face were shrouded in moonlight shadows, making him look extremely ferocious and terrifying.

The body was dragged aside and carelessly dumped in a corner, to be dealt with at dawn.

This behavior put even more pressure on the members of the Baroque Studio.

He killed his comrade, yet the comrade still managed to survive.

If you don't take action to kill your comrade, your comrade is doomed.

The entire square was filled with a strong stench of blood, mixed with the smells of alcohol, sweat, and incontinence, making people want to vomit.

But the Buggy Pirates were all excited, their eyes shining. They cheered loudly as they watched the prisoners kill each other, and some even started placing bets on whether the next one would cry.

Pirates, where would they find anything good?

On a rooftop nearby.

The moonlight cast long shadows of the four people.

Bucky sat in an armchair that had been brought from town, his legs crossed.

Next to the chair was a small round table with a pot of freshly brewed tea and several cups on it.

He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped over his abdomen, his gaze fixed on the blood-red expanse in the square.

After getting used to the freedom of the pirate world, Buggy thought this world was pretty good.

Hell for the weak, paradise for the strong.

Nami stood slightly behind Buggy, her arms crossed over her chest, her brows furrowed slightly.

Her gaze was also fixed on the plaza, but her expression was completely different from that of the excited pirates below.

Nami looked a little uncomfortable, but she kept watching what was happening in the square below, forcing herself to adapt.

Nojiko stood next to Nami, her posture more gentle than Nami's, with one hand on Nami's shoulder.

Her expression was calm, but her eyes held a more helpless acceptance.

Alvida stood at the very edge, her arms braced against the low wall of the roof, her body slightly leaning forward, her eyes fixed on everything that was happening in the square.

Her chest was heaving violently.

It's not because of fear.

It's because of excitement.

The blood, the screams, the severed limbs, the people struggling in despair—every image was stimulating her nerves.

Alvida felt joy.

"Feeling much better now?" Bucky's voice came from the other side of the chair.

Alvida paused slightly, turned her head, and glanced at Bucky.

The moonlight shone on the black and white mask, and the corners of his mouth beneath the mask turned up slightly—as if he knew everything, as if everything was within his expectations—this was the Clown King.

"Hmm." Alvida nodded and continued looking at the square.

The screams of those people continued, one after another, rising and falling.

This is true for the vast majority of living things.

Happiness is something that comes from comparison.

When you see other creatures in a worse situation than yourself, your own circumstances become less unbearable.

Alvida recalled the time when she was turned into a doll.

You can't see, you can't hear, you can't move, you can't even feel your breath. That absolute nothingness is more terrifying than death.

It felt like he had been locked up for a very, very long time—but after he came out, he learned from Nojiko that he had only been locked up for three days.

Just three days in the dark room was enough to cause Alvida's mental stress to explode.

Now, looking at the people with missing limbs in the square, she felt an overwhelming urge to write.

She's alive, she still has hands and feet, she can breathe, she can walk—it feels so good.

"Hehehe—" Alvida's lips slowly curled up, revealing a dangerous smile tinged with a morbid satisfaction.

Then she subconsciously turned her head and looked at Nochiko.

Nochiko happened to be looking at her too.

Their eyes met in mid-air.

Nojiko's lips curled up slightly as he nodded gently at her, his gaze filled with tenderness, like a hand gently caressing Alvida's heart.

Alvida blushed slightly, then quickly turned her head away, pretending nothing had happened.

Being taken advantage of when you are most vulnerable has a huge impact.

Nojiko withdrew his gaze, picked up the teapot from the table, poured a cup of tea, and walked to Bucky: "Captain, the tea is ready."

"Not bad." Bucky took the teacup and took a sip.

The tea was at the perfect temperature, neither too hot nor too cold, with a subtle fruity aroma.

Nojiko stepped back, poured two more glasses, and handed them to Nami and Alvida.

"Captain, what's next?" Nami took the teacup, but didn't drink it. She just held it in her hands, feeling the warmth from her palms.

"Go downstairs later and bandage them up." Bucky placed the teacup on the table. "Try not to kill too many people—we mean what we say, no intentional killings—we must keep our word."

Nami frowned slightly: "Bandage?"

"There's medicine on the ship. If we don't have enough, we can search the town." Bucky's gaze fell on the people still bleeding in the square. "Of course, if they still die after treatment, then it doesn't matter."

If Bucky really agrees, he will keep his word.

If Bucky had never agreed in the first place and was just lying, then he wouldn't have done it.

It may seem contradictory, but it is not actually in conflict.

①If I'm willing, then I'll do it, even if it comes at a price.

②If I'm not willing, I won't do it, even if it comes at a price.

This is freedom.

Nami nodded: "I understand."

Nojiko nodded without saying anything more.

Alvida held her teacup, remaining silent.

She's not a doctor, nor is she good at taking care of people; this kind of thing shouldn't be her responsibility.

The four men continued drinking tea and watching the brutal scenes unfold in the square.

Mochi and Kabaji are very efficient.

In less than an hour, all the captured Baroque Works members had been "dealt with".

Those who needed to be chopped off were chopped off, those who needed to be killed were killed, and those who needed to be bandaged up were bandaged up.

Well, after all, if we don't want them to bleed to death, some basic bandaging is still necessary.

For example, you can heat the wound with fire and then wrap it with a bandage.

More than forty people were lying haphazardly in the square, of whom only a dozen or so were still intact.

The survivors and the unfortunate were divided into two groups at this moment.

The blood had soaked through the stone slabs of the square, making them sticky and squelching underfoot.