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Is there a way to Kill Buggy?!
The Red-Haired Pirates were loud, as always, the laughter and clink of mugs filling the ship's mess hall. Shanks sat at the head of the table, swirling his drink lazily, while the rest of the crew devoured a hearty meal. It was one of those nights where the mood was light, everyone swapping stories, throwing jabs, and generally reveling in the chaos that came with being part of this infamous crew.
But then Hongo, one of the newer recruits with an unfortunate habit of asking the most bizarre questions, suddenly put his utensils down and leaned forward. His voice cut through the noise like a poorly tuned violin.
“Hey, Captain. Is there, uh… any way to kill Buggy?”
The entire table froze. Shanks, mid-swig of rum, choked and coughed, nearly spitting out his drink. A couple of forks clattered against plates, and Lucky Roux paused mid-bite, a chunk of meat dangling precariously from his chopsticks.
“What the hell kind of question is that?!” Shanks barked, slamming his mug down, but he was grinning despite himself.
“No, no, hear me out!” Hongo waved his hands defensively. “Some of us were just curious! You know how he’s immune to cuts because of the Bara Bara no Mi? And bullets don’t work, and, like… what else? Explosions? Blunt force? Dude’s basically unkillable!”
The room was silent for a beat before Yassop snorted. “Unkillable? Buggy?” He laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.
“I mean, he’s not wrong, ” Limejuice chimed in, stroking his chin. “That clown’s survived some ridiculous stuff. Remember that time we saw him get punched through a wall and just brush it off?”
Shanks leaned back, his hand on his forehead, clearly regretting indulging this conversation. “You idiots don’t understand the true power of the Bara Bara no Mi,” he said dramatically, throwing his arm out like he was revealing a great secret. “Buggy isn’t just immune to blades and bullets—he’s a walking disaster waiting to happen. His strength isn’t just his devil fruit. It’s his spirit. ”
The crew collectively groaned.
“Oh, here we go,” Lucky Roux muttered.
But Shanks was on a roll, ignoring the muttering and eye-rolls. “I’m serious! You all underestimate him, but I’ve seen Buggy do incredible things. Sure, he’s ridiculous, but deep down, he’s—”
“Didn’t he almost die from a fever once?” Yassop interrupted, grinning.
The table erupted in laughter.
Shanks hesitated, his confident facade cracking. “Well… I mean… that was years ago! He was young!”
“Right, right,” Yassop said, wiping a tear from his eye. “So he’s immune to blades and bullets, but not colds, food poisoning, drowning, or, you know, just dying of old age.”
Shanks’ expression darkened as his crewmates cackled. “Don’t… don’t remind me.” He started shifting in his seat, tapping his leg nervously.
“Oi, Captain’s fidgeting,” Bonk Punch pointed out.
“That’s a bad sign,” Limejuice said, shaking his head.
Suddenly, Shanks shot up from his chair, his eyes wide and haunted. Without a word, he stomped off toward the kitchen, leaving the crew in stunned silence.
“What’s he doing?” Hongo whispered.
“Bad rum,” Lucky Roux said knowingly, leaning back in his chair.
“Here we go again,” Yassop sighed, taking another swig of his drink.
Sure enough, Shanks returned moments later with a dusty, clearly ancient bottle of rum. He poured himself a generous amount, downed it in one gulp, and then poured another.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he muttered, pacing back and forth. “Buggy. Old. Wrinkled. Helpless. I mean, what if I see him one day and he’s just… gone? What if I’m not there to protect him?”
“Protect him?” Yassop raised an eyebrow. “You mean the same guy who tried to kill you for a treasure map five times?”
Shanks spun around dramatically, pointing a finger at Yassop. “He didn’t mean it! That’s just how Buggy is! He’s… he’s misunderstood!”
The crew exchanged amused glances.
“Captain,” Limejuice said gently, “you know he’d sell you out for a bag of peanuts, right?”
Shanks froze. His face fell, and he slumped back into his chair, cradling his head in his hands. “You don’t get it. Buggy and I… we were nakamas. more than that! Damn it! We sailed together! We fought together! And now…” His voice cracked, and the crew stared at him in stunned silence.
“…He’s drunk crying, isn’t he?” Bonk Punch whispered.
Yassop rolled his eyes and stood, slapping a hand on Shanks’ shoulder. “Captain, listen. Buggy’s fine. He’s probably out there right now, scheming something stupid and embarrassing himself. You know he’s not going anywhere.”
Shanks sniffled, looking up with watery eyes. “…You think so?”
“I know so,” Yassop said with a grin. “Now stop hogging the rum and pass it over.”
The room burst into laughter again as Shanks reluctantly handed over the bottle, his dramatic episode forgotten as quickly as it started.
Hongo leaned over to Yassop and whispered, “So… is Buggy really unkillable?”
Yassop smirked. “Nah. He’s just too stubborn to die.”
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End