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The carnage, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't have happened.
It was a matter of every single thing that could go wrong going wrong, and every disadvantage on the side of Karai Bari that the Marines had decided to exploit with extreme prejudice.
First off, it started at two in the morning. Then it was storming. It was unseasonably cold. A large chunk of fighting resources were out collecting up on a huge job. Mihawk was somewhat inebriated and sleep-deprived. Crocodile's body was uncooperative from the weather.
And Buggy was almost alone in trying to wrangle everyone and everything together for defense and a counter-attack.
The Marines couldn't get past the reefs. That was the bare minimum command Buggy set out. If they could keep the Marines from getting close enough to land out, they had a shot. The warships were firing out shots that Mihawk was busy deflecting out, having, for once not put up resistance to Buggy's orders.
This was comparable to a Buster Call; for all they knew, it was one and they were given zero notice or attempt to parley and negotiate. Buggy knew it would be stupid to wonder why, considering what the Cross Guild was best known for, and that taking out an Emperor plus two more heavy hitters would be a bonus. Coming this late at night, during a storm, insured any attempts to call backup from allies would be futile.
The Cross Guild was in danger of being wiped out, and Buggy wasn't having it.
He had built fortification into the largest of his town's tents some time ago, lining it with cannons and some sniper posts, the whole thing both vulnerable from being high up and cleverly hidden by the circus theme. It kept most of their cannons and bombs safe from the rain and provided cover for the cannoneers and snipers. He had them fully manned and kept lookout from the front opening, peering through binoculars to spot the precious moments where the enemy cannon fire and Mihawk exploding incoming fire illuminated their positions so he could get a better calculation of who should shoot where, and when.
Once they fired back, the enemy would know where they were and would adjust their shots accordingly. Mihawk may have to prioritize his counters since at this point now that they knew who was blocking their shots from hitting, the attacks were damn near constant to keep Mihawk busy and unable to sink their ships en mass.
They were smart doing this, having learned well enough about the first time they had attacked Karai Bari which coincidentally was the time Mihawk and Crocodile had arrived. Attacking during a storm kept Crocodile from interfering. And while it might have been pure coincidence and not some super-secret intel, Mihawk did not fare well with the cold.
Although it wasn't discussed, all things considered with the sudden urgency of this counterattack, Buggy definitely noticed that Mihawk wasn't at his best. The man was half-blind from the storm, his Observation Haki dulled from inebriation, and the cold was clamming up his movements. Could he hold out? Very possibly. But at what cost later, in case of a surprise followup?
Buggy wasn't going to risk it. He was a coward, but he was at least a coward who knew what he was doing and feared losing what he'd actually come to care about more than anything else at the moment.
At least Crocodile and Mihawk were collaborating with him instead of trying to step over him with their own agendas. While Mihawk was on first-wave counterattack, Buggy had Crocodile situated in a more fortified area keeping closer lookout and relaying positions and numbers through to Buggy to give to the cannoneers and snipers.
The snipers came first. Buggy instructed them to take out whoever they could see on deck and crow's nest. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer for the counterattack. They had to start striking back now. He had decent positions set out so his cannoneers could take out the enemy cannons with his own special cannonballs that had one big explosion to do as much damage as possible and a secondary weakened explosion to finish off what the first couldn't.
The only problem was, he had a limited amount since he'd only recently gotten the green light to produce them from Crocodile. He just hoped the stingy asshole would see their worth and let him have more time to get more done when this was over.
"CANNONEERS ONE THROUGH ELEVEN!" he shouted into his den-den to be heard over the cacophony outside. "FIRE WHEN READY! MAKE IT COUNT!"
A few seconds later, explosions rang out as the cannons fired, and several ships were struck.
Not all shots hit the cannons; two only managed to hit the hulls or bows, but it gave a blessed halt to the constant barrage Mihawk had to deal with. It didn't stop it completely, and Buggy wasn't going to start counting his blessings yet.
Crocodile relayed his distance and number calculations, Buggy relayed those to the cannoneers, and the snipers continued to take out who they could.
A few more shots were returned.
Buggy counted out the heavy-hitting cannonballs they had left. Not enough. Not nearly enough.
Enemy fire continued to keep Mihawk from either taking out more ships or doing some weird World's Strongest Swordsman Bullshit to split the clouds up and stop the rain enough for Crocodile to help.
And then it went from bad to worse.
"CLOWN, THEY'RE AIMING AT THE STRONGHOLD!" Crocodile's voice shouted through the den-den; if the situation and news weren't so dire, Buggy would almost say Crocodile cared. Ice froze at his spine before he screamed over his own den-den,
"EVERYONE, ABANDON—"
The world exploded around them.
High-pitched ringing and pain was what Buggy awoke to.
He put a hand to his head, feeling a splitting pain in his skull as he used his other arm to push his body up a little, just enough to look around.
Rubble from the exploded stronghold surrounded him.
So did bodies.
Some where alive, most not so much.
To his left, a man was screaming as he tried to pull his crushed leg from under a large chunk of rubble.
Buggy himself was half-lying on a man who was missing most of his upper half.
He drew back from the corpse, his own body intact but still suffering from the blunt-force trauma of the world blowing up around him and then falling when the strong hold was hit. It felt like his body was one giant bruise that hurt to move, but the situation around him reminded him that staying where he was wasn't an option.
He looked around, gauging out who was still in functional condition, and what and who could be salvaged.
Some of his men were already scavenging for weapons. Two were working to haul up a cannon upright. A handful were trying to give first aid to whoever they could.
Familiar muffled yelling could be heard somewhere to his right. He looked over, seeing his den-den was miraculously alive but weakened, the reception from Crocodile shouting through barely audible.
"—MING ASHORE—COUNTER—ODDAMN IT—"
Buggy heard shots ring out, turning toward the shore and seeing that several Marines had taken to actually swimming ashore for a ground assault, some carting cases of guns and swords for others to grab and begin their attack.
Buggy bared his teeth, tasting blood and indignation as he grabbed a knife from his boot and threw it hard, embedding it into the neck of a nearby Marine. He jumped up, forcing his body to move as he rushed over and grabbed the sword the Marine dropped, using it to cut through any and all Marines he could see.
Almost through the cotton of his ears and the screaming echoes of his body, he could deftly hear some able-bodied crewmen shouting his praises as a call to arms to follow their leader.
It was all white noise, added into his body's screaming echoing in his head as it often did when it was under intense duress, paired off with the blast of cannon fire, the roar of the storm, the sharp bellowing of Yoru's war cry. It made Buggy want to throw his sword down and scream for everyone and everything to shut the fuck up and let him think.
If he wasn't already intimately familiar with what it felt like for his body to fall to pieces, he would say he was close to doing just that as he blocked another Marine's sword, kicking him away and literally disarming him; the Marine's screams just adding to the hot mess of noise that threatened to drive him over the edge.
He was actually surprised to notice then, the miracle of the rain stopping. He could almost weep at the fact that with that one barrier out of the way, Crocodile could come and contribute his strength, but who the fuck even knew how long it would take for him to get there and help polish off the ground assault?
As badly as Buggy wanted to drop the sword and fall face-first into the wet blood-soaked sand, he honestly didn't know if he would be able to get back up if he did. And besides, the rest of the men were continuing to fight only because he was.
He was exhausted. He was so damn close to falling apart. He wanted to scream and cry and send the Marines a strongly-worded letterbomb.
Oh, when this was over, he was going to do everything within his power to convince Crocodile to run a triple-price special in their bounties, and that was if he didn't do it himself to take out two birds with one stone: get his retribution and pay off his debt.
The sound of Marines in a panic was music to his ears, knowing that Crocodile had made his appearance at last. He could almost cry and kiss the man, but for now, all he wanted to do was finish this and then he could finally rest—
A gunshot rang out that seemed louder to the others. It was all Buggy could hear.
He couldn't bring himself to move.
His eyelids twitched as he blinked.
His head hurt. It hurt more than he thought it could, almost like it was numb with so much pain.
He stared forward, unable to even make his eyes move.
His men were staring at him in horror.
His vision turned red and wet.
He thought he heard screaming as he felt himself falling.
Then nothing.
"EMPEROR BUGGY!"
The entirety of the conscious Cross Guild seemed to scream out at the same time at the horror of seeing a bullet pass right through their Emperor's forehead.
The Marine who'd shot him sat back in shock, his arm still raised with the gun smoking. He didn't even get a moment of pride at having taken down an Emperor of the Seas before he was suddenly set upon by over a dozen men with blood in their ears, all of them shooting or hacking at him with their own blades.
The few men who had rushed forward toward Buggy with half-minded attempts at helping were shoved aside by Crocodile, who only took one look to know this was beyond help.
The bullet had gone right through the back of Buggy's head and out his forehead. Buggy's eyes were open, unfocused, glassy, and drowning in the blood that poured from his bullet wound.
Nowhere near the first corpse Crocodile had seen, but right now he had the most mixed feelings about it. Without Buggy, what was going to happen now, both in the next five minutes or in the future? A false Emperor or not, Buggy's talents and inadvertent gifts had slowly begun shining through once he'd been given even the smallest chance at showing them off.
Crocodile had taken a gamble, and it finally seemed to have been paying off until now. The infamous Devil's Luck Buggy had been cursed with finally ran out.
Around him, the men continued to fight as they angrily mourned. With the rain gone, their renewed vigor had pushed the undamaged cannons upright to continue firing. Somewhere further back, Mihawk was continuing his counterattacks.
Even with Buggy gone, the fight wasn't over. And as far as deaths went, at least Crocodile could grudgingly admit Buggy had gone out fighting. There were far worse ways for a pirate to go, and he could at least respect that.
He stood up and shrugged off his coat, laying it out over Buggy's body and moved to stand up and finish off the rest of the grounded Marines when he suddenly dropped back on the ground, feeling like his very bones had been turned to lead.
He wasn't the only one.
All around him, both Marines and the residents of Karai Bari shuddered, fell, spasmed, or outright passed out.
Crocodile's hand actually shook as he pressed his fingers into the damp sand, trying to force his body to move. Not even his Devil Fruit obeyed him, every grain of sand feeling as heavy as an anvil.
A pressure built up behind his temples, like a migraine but a thousand times worse. His eyes feeling disconnected, ears going from hearing sounds too sharply or too dulled, his skin crawling like it was trying to slough itself off. He tasted blood and pain and smelled ozone.
Then came the groaning.
It wasn't from a person, per se, but it just felt like it came from inside himself. From his bones. It shook his entire world, making him feel like he was falling in different directions, his body threatening to be pulled in a hundred different pieces.
Another 'groan' resonated through him, and he felt his arms curl around his own body as though it could help hold him together. But each 'groan' seemed to dislodge and disconnect something else away. He felt like his teeth were coming loose. He felt like his stomach would literally drop out. He felt like his tongue would fall out of his mouth. He felt he felt he felt he felt he felt he felt all the could do was feel—
Another 'groan' felt like the force of an earthquake was condensed right into his bones, almost making him lose all sense entirely before it passed, finding himself curled up on the sand, his body locked up tight, unable to move. It felt like the world was being folded in on itself in front of his eyes.
It was why when he saw movement on his coat, he thought it was more of whatever was happening messing with his sight.
But there was no denying the actual sight of the outline of a body rising from under the coat. No denying the sight of a bloody hand reaching outward and bracing on the sand. No denying the sight of Buggy crawling out from under the coat, blood still dripping down his face.
The 'groaning' stopped and the air felt unnaturally still.
Then Buggy coughed hard, blood spewing from his mouth and he took a breath that sounded like a shrill scream.
The 'groaning' returned, washing over Crocodile and apparently everyone else in waves in time with Buggy taking wet, noisy inhales and exhales. He remained knelt on the ground as he breathed and the world 'groaned'.
Then, from where Crocodile was laying, he saw something.
He saw Buggy's body visibly shifting under the skin. Deep, heavy bruises recede and vanish. The goddamn bullet hole closing itself up. As it did so, the agonizing wrongness in Crocodile's body eased up somewhat.
Buggy's face remained as expressionless as it was when Crocodile thought him dead as he slowly lifted himself upright, looking around slowly. Taking in everything like he was seeing it again for the first time.
His eyes focused. Hardened.
Almost like he was being lifted by invisibly marionette strings, Buggy rose from the ground. His fists clenched.
The 'groaning' returned, a low, bellowing roar in everyone's heads as he started walking toward the shore.
Crocodile couldn't get up. He could only watch, feeling like he was going to vomit his own internal organs, as Buggy walked down the beach. And as Buggy walked, his hands twitched.
With each twitch, a Marine nearby fell into literal pieces.
While the pirates remained untouched, they still writhed, wailed, and screamed at the 'groaning' that wrought through their bodies.
Marines scrambled for weapons.
Weapons fell apart in their hands.
Then they fell apart onto the sand.
Buggy came to a stop inches away from where the surf was pushing the tips of its waves and sea foam, glaring out at the ships that still lurked out in the dark horizon.
It felt like the world paused to take a breath as he raised his hands out in front of him.
And it wasn't just everyone's insides tremoring with the 'groans'; the entire actual island shook as Buggy clenched his hands, the 'groaning' turning into a scream that resonated inside and out as everyone witnessed the impossible.
From where he was standing, Buggy was Chopping the very sea in front of him, all the way down to the seabed and deeper than that.
The ships out in the distance began dropping into the deep crevice Buggy has created, tipping down like mere leaves going over a waterfall, vanishing from view even as they continued to fire off last-ditch desperate shells that never even made it beyond the water.
Crocodile couldn't even count how many went under. He only knew the job was done when the 'groaning' started up again as Buggy relaxed his hands, the seabed and water coming back together as seamlessly as it had been before.
The 'groaning' stopped, and Karai Bari was struck with an unnatural silence.
Buggy lowered his arms and slowly turned around and began walking back up the beach. In place of a 'groan', more of a higher-pitched sound much like cleaving flesh but in reverse made everyone twitch and flinch. As Buggy passed his men, their bodies began rippling.
Bruises disappeared. Cuts mended. Dismembered pieces reattached. Internal bleeding stopped. Broken bones snapped back into place.
Still, he didn't stop walking, coming across Mihawk, who was barely upright only by the grace of Yoru, staring at Buggy like he was seeing a ghost.
Buggy just looked at him. "…I'm tired," he said, his voice sounding detached entirely from the man speaking them. "I'm going to bed."
Mihawk didn't stop him.
Nobody stopped him.
They only watched as the shattered stronghold structure that had been destroyed began reforming, shredded tents became whole, and Karai Bari was pristine as opposed to the corpses that littered its beach.
Soon after, the 'groans' and the 'cleaving' stopped.
The rain started to fall again.
And everyone passed out into sweet oblivion.
"This is getting ridiculous."
Crocodile's hand shook as he lit up a cigar. It was his fifth one since waking up two hours ago but his body hadn't stopped shaking. He stared out the window to where the pirates were actually erecting a goddamn idol effigy of Buggy many were kowtowing and praying to.
Mihawk's own hand shook around his glass of wine, only filled up a third to avoid spilling it. Again. He hadn't spoken more than ten words since waking and re-meeting with Crocodile, not looking much better than he had at the end of that battle even after a shower and fresh clothes.
Crocodile chewed on the end of his cigar, closing the curtains to avoid looking at further madness, sitting back hard in his chair. "…I don't understand," he admitted. "I was sure…certain…."
Mihawk took a thick drink of wine. "…what happened?" he asked, his voice sounding thick on his tongue. Crocodile ran his still-shaking hand through his head.
"…he was fighting on the beach," he said, vividly remembering rushing up to finish off the ground assault the moment he'd seen it stopped raining. "He'd survived the Marines blowing up the cannon fortress. He was up and fighting, but he didn't look good. He must've gotten a severe head injury, or he'd have seen the Marine aiming a gun right at him and shooting him through the head."
Mihawk's hand tightened around his glass. "…he was shot," he said, less of a question.
Crocodile nodded. "Straight through," he said, loosely gesturing to his forehead. "I thought he'd died, so I covered him and—"
"He did."
Mihawk's voice sounded hollow and haunted, his eyes mirroring his tone. He turned his gaze to Crocodile, dead serious. "…I might not have been anywhere close to even my mediocre, but I felt it, Crocodile. I felt Buggy being snuffed out. Gone. Nothing. He died."
Crocodile's teeth clenched, almost biting through his cigar. "…that's not possible."
"You saw it yourself." Mihawk let out a shaky breath. "He died. But he came back."
"How. Fucking how?!" Crocodile clenched his hand into the arm of his chair. "Devil Fruits don't work that way!"
"Yours doesn't. Many others don't." Mihawk lifted his other hand, biting on the tip of his thumb, a gesture Crocodile knew he only did when he was excessively stressed. "Buggy's Devil Fruit specifically allows him to manipulate his body, sometimes on instinct. So…it's very likely that his body forced his Fruit to Awaken in a moment of absolute duress." He swallowed back the rest of his wine. "It would explain the rest."
"…the rest," Crocodile replied faintly. He could still feel an echo of those 'groans' like horrible, violent phantom pains. The sight of the very sea splitting apart. "How in the goddamn fuck."
"It's because it was mine."
Both men almost jumped when they heard Buggy speak, looking over to see the man peering around the door at them. He'd apparently gotten that sleep he wanted, as well as as a shower. His hair was loose around his shoulders and still slightly damp. He hadn't even bothered with any face paint, making his eyes stand out.
They'd never quite seen this particular emotion in them before. They looked like he'd seen an abyss that stared back, which probably wasn't even far from the truth. Like his third eye had been wrenched wide open without his consent. Fearful, but not of the men he was looking at.
Mihawk put his glass down, gesturing for Buggy to come in. "…what do you mean?" he asked.
Buggy slipped into the room and shut the door behind him. He was wearing a pair of loose pants and a tunic with simple slip-on shoes, looking more like he was ready to go back to bed than have an after-battle meeting with them. He shuffled over to sit on a chair, pulling his knees up to wrap his arms around them.
"…I can...could…separate my body however I needed. Because it was mine." He chewed on his lip. "Karai Bari is mine. The surrounding waters are mine." A tick flickered over his face. "…everyone and everything on it is mine. Mine to lead. Mine to protect." His eyes flicked between the two of them. "I felt it. I could separate or fix everything I needed."
Crocodile didn't even care that a bit of ash landed on his clothes, staring at Buggy. "You're telling me you Awakened your damn Devil Fruit on accident and did that on a technicality?"
Buggy lowered his eyes again. "…yeah," he said. He pressed his forehead to his knees. "…I don't want to do it again. It hurts my head."
Crocodile scoffed, finally tapping off his cigar into the ash tray properly. "It hurts your head," he muttered with a tint of mockery. "How sad for you when it was goddamn hell for the rest of us."
Buggy lifted his head. "…what do you mean?"
Mihawk rubbed his temple. "…the best way I can describe it is having tectonic trauma on my bones and feeling like every organ was ready to fall out of my body."
"Couldn't see properly, practically tasted what my own blood and bones were like, heard—"
"Groaning," Buggy finished, then shrugged a little. "Yeah. The groaning is the worst part. It's hard to block out. I hate it."
Mihawk and Crocodile stared at him. "…so you do know what it's like," Crocodile said.
Buggy frowned. "Of course I do. You think I can just…" He raised his arm, detaching his hand. "…that and feel nothing? That I'm not aware of every single fucking thing going on in my body at any given moment?" He reattached his hand, both of them hovering on either side of his head like it pained him to touch it. "That I can't feel my hair and fingernails growing? That I cant hear my blood pumping? That I can't feel every single fucking time my skin, muscles, veins, arteries, and bones separate when I use this power? Why do you think I fucking hate it so much!?" He bit his lip again, the centralized, deliberate pain a distraction from everything else. "Just because I can put myself back together doesn't mean I don't feel every time I come apart."
Mihawk actually looked stricken. "…how the devil are you still sane, if that's true?" he demanded.
Buggy stared at him. "…who said I was sane?" he replied. "No one could be, after getting this curse as a child and having it as long as I have." He lowered his head to his knees again. "…at least it was useful this time. Not so many casualties. The Navy might leave us alone for awhile."
Crocodile felt his eye twitch. "You split the fucking ocean, clown," he bit out. "You sent who knows how many Navy warships into the seabed. You cut dozens of Marines into pieces without touching them. You healed wounds and reattached limbs and rebuilt the destroyed stronghold. Most of Karai Bari is out there building a goddamn religion around you as we speak. Because you did all that after coming back from the dead."
Buggy's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "…can't do anything about that," he replied tiredly. "But I don't want to do all that again. Not if I can help it."
Mihawk forewent his glass and took a swig right from the bottle. "Agreed," he said crisply. "I don't want to experience it again if I absolutely don't have to."
Crocodile let out a tight sigh and held up his hand in bitter agreement. "Fine," he bit out. "Lack of many casualties or property damage aside, we still need reports on who and what was lost, and come up with a better contingency plan for surprise stormy nighttime attacks."
Buggy looked up. "I want more free time to work on my bombs," he said. "They were doing us well before we got hit, and—"
"Fine, granted. Tell me how much shit you need to make them. Anything else?"
The brightening in Buggy's eyes was almost enough to make him forget how dead and blood-drowned they'd once been.
It was almost enough to make them both forget the fact that even if he didn't want to do it again, he could now destroy them both if he so chose without even touching them.
If they had to loosen up some strings to keep him happy, so be it.
Anything to never have to even feel the power of his Devil Fruit ever again.