"Buggy!" Rayleigh called out at this moment.
The candlelight in the hall flickered erratically. His Observation Haki was screaming alarms, the eerie atmosphere swelling ever more sinister.
This place was strange—but Davy Jones was even stranger!
Sensing that something was wrong, Rayleigh tried to interrupt the contract ritual, but Crocodile blocked his path.
Even though Crocodile himself was filled with doubts, he couldn't allow Rayleigh to interfere.
And then—the signing of the contract was already complete in an instant.
Through the lenses of his glasses, Rayleigh only saw Davy Jones draw a black trident out of his own body, and lightly tap Buggy's arm with it. But his Haki told him something far more terrifying—something that made his skin crawl.
He raised his head. In the candlelight, the shadow cast on the wall was no longer the form of Davy Jones, but some indescribably enormous monster.
Countless writhing tentacles stretched down into Bucky's shadow… and then withdrew.
It was already too late.
Buggy stood up, staring at the "Mark of the Contract" now etched onto the back of his hand. He let out a breath and grinned.
Rayleigh's eyes widened in horror as the monstrous shadow vanished, returning to Davy Jones's ordinary silhouette. A deep sadness spread across his face.
"Buggy." Davy Jones now looked as if he had only just noticed Rayleigh. "Aren't you going to introduce me to this guest you've brought along?"
Buggy blinked, then turned his head. Looking at Rayleigh, he suddenly felt a strange sense of distance, as if in the span of a single moment the man had aged several years.
Rayleigh sighed. Without waiting for Buggy to speak, he stepped forward on his own. This time, Crocodile didn't stop him.
He spoke with rare sincerity:
"I am Silvers Rayleigh. Once a pirate, now just a coating craftsman. Captain Davy Jones, Buggy was once my crewmate. From here on, I'll trouble you to look after him."
Crewmate? Crocodile felt like this night was one shocking revelation after another.
That brat Buggy… was actually part of the Roger Pirates?!
No wonder—no wonder his bounty was higher than mine, even though he'd done nothing!
Rayleigh looked back at Buggy and said:
"I finally understand your resolve… Fine. Then I'll risk what's left of these old bones, and go with you to Marineford. I wouldn't want you accusing me of helping outsiders, but not Ace."
"Rayleigh-san…"
Rayleigh smiled faintly, then turned to Davy Jones, who was seated calmly on the sofa.
Truthfully, he had never expected things to unfold this way. He had thought it would be a long tug-of-war of negotiations, back and forth, until one side finally convinced Buggy.
But instead, the moment Buggy made his request, Davy Jones had agreed without the slightest hesitation.
Such an attitude—showing not the faintest concern for either Marine Headquarters or the Whitebeard Pirates—was something Rayleigh had not anticipated.
It didn't feel like Rocks' overbearing arrogance. It was something different… something unfamiliar.
Rayleigh pressed his lips tightly together. Let's hope this choice of mine isn't a mistake.
Meanwhile, Perona, unnoticed amidst all the tension, quietly slipped out of the hall. She darted down the corridor like a swallow, floating swiftly.
"Horohorohoro—" She covered her mouth as she giggled.
"I didn't expect to stumble on so many huge secrets today. Just perfect to dangle in front of Alvida, heehee. I'll bleed her dry of treasure before I tell her a word."
"Whitebeard's movements—what's the latest?"
"He's still in the same sea area. His 47 ships are gradually assembling," a navy soldier reported, saluting Admiral Akainu Sakazuki. "Please rest assured, our warships are keeping watch around the clock. There's no way they'll escape our sight."
"Mm. Don't get too close," Sakazuki reminded tersely, before turning to leave.
"Yes, Admiral Akainu, sir!"
Wearing his Marine cap and the cloak of justice draped across his shoulders, Sakazuki strode down the headquarters corridor with commanding presence.
Everywhere he passed, sailors snapped to attention and saluted.
He kept his gaze forward, heading toward the Fleet Admiral's office.
But suddenly—someone stepped into his path. If Sakazuki hadn't glanced downward, he might have walked straight into him.
"Admiral Akainu." The man's face was one that could make anyone's skin crawl—bound tight with leather straps, his purple curls spilling messily.
"Spandam…" Sakazuki frowned. "What are you doing here?"
Spandam rubbed his palms together obsequiously, smiling ingratiatingly.
"Marine Headquarters is in urgent need of elite reinforcements, isn't it? So I volunteered myself. At the moment, I'm stationed in logistics."
Sakazuki gave a short, contemptuous laugh.
Elite?
Volunteered? Please. With CP9 gone, Spandine must have seen a chance for his useless son to earn credit here, and shoved him in by force.
Sakazuki had no desire to waste even a breath on such trash. He shifted aside and moved to continue forward.
"W-wait, Admiral Akainu! Just a few minutes, I beg you!" Spandam jumped back in front of him, still grinning desperately. "I really do have something important to tell you."
Sakazuki glanced at the sky outside, his patience already thin. "Then spit it out."
Spandam laughed awkwardly before speaking:
"Recently, there've been… certain rumors."
"We?" Sakazuki's eyes narrowed.
"Ah—my father."
"Continue."
"Yes, yes… My father heard that after this war, Fleet Admiral Sengoku intends to step back, leaving the position of Fleet Admiral vacant."
Sakazuki's lips pressed into a hard line. He didn't reply.
This was no secret—within Marineford, the whispers had already spread. Sengoku himself had never admitted it, but if this came from Spandine, it meant Sengoku had at least raised the matter with the Gorosei once.
A sharp gleam flickered in Sakazuki's eyes.
"Of course, the next Fleet Admiral will surely be chosen from among the three current Admirals," Spandam went on, smirking. "Kizaru is far too… frivolous. My father believes the choice will almost certainly come down to you or Admiral Aokiji."
Sakazuki remained silent, arms folded.
"Frankly," Spandam pressed on, "Admiral Aokiji enjoys far greater support. Sengoku and much of the Marine brass seem to favor him as well." His grin grew sly. "But my father and I—we oppose this."
Sakazuki tilted his head, giving him a cold look. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Our family is prepared to back your candidacy as the next Fleet Admiral," Spandam said smoothly, "and to lobby strongly for you within the World Government. Truth be told, the Government itself would likely prefer someone decisive like you in that seat."
Sakazuki was silent again. He knew full well—there were no pies falling from the sky. "What do you want?" he asked icily.
"Just a little something in return."
Spandam's grin was like a rat glimpsing a block of cheese.
"Of course, if in this war you were to distinguish yourself—say, by bringing down Whitebeard himself—it would make our efforts to win support for you far easier. For both of us, it would be a victory."
Sakazuki did not believe for a second that Spandam's "little" demand would be anything so small. But he was also painfully aware—between himself and Kuzan, the latter held the advantage.
That man had connections. He was far better liked.
Yet Sakazuki truly wanted the position of Fleet Admiral. With it, he could overturn Sengoku's policies and purge the seas of pirates once and for all. But right now, Kuzan stood as an obstacle he could not get around.
In that light, perhaps the Spandam family's support would be a useful beginning. It would also give him a clearer sense of how the World Government viewed him.
Should he compromise?
Spandam, seeing Sakazuki's silence, stretched out his hand with a grin.
"Then—we have an agreement?"
Sakazuki glanced down at him, said nothing, and walked straight past. He never took the offered hand.
Yet Spandam did not look disappointed. Instead, he chuckled to himself.
For he knew: if Sakazuki meant to refuse, he would have snapped and cursed outright. To walk away in silence… was already a tacit acceptance.
It would only take a little more pushing.
Heh heh… Sakazuki—you will need us.
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