One Piece: My Crew is from Other World

Buggy looked down at the lifeless beasts sprawled across the battlefield, a crooked smile forming on his lips.

"Pathetic," he muttered. "These creatures couldn't even scratch me. No Haki, no brains—just muscle and fangs."

Behind him, his loyal crew erupted in applause and exaggerated praise.

"As expected of the great Captain Bucky!"

"Just a flick of the wrist and those monsters turned to ash!"

"Show those Dragon Hunters what real power looks like!"

Their chorus of flattery would've made excellent background noise on Earth—an elite squad of internet keyboard warriors turned hype men.

Ryuunosuke—stepped forward, his gaze locked on the fading remnants of the battle. "Captain Buggy, were those things on your treasure map?"

"Nope," Buggy replied nonchalantly. "Map just shows the route. That's it."

He rubbed his chin, unfazed. "Still, weird beasts in God Valley? Sounds about right."

Clearly, Buggy had been through enough misadventures to find this madness almost routine.

"So," Ryuunosuke said, eyes narrowing. "Do we keep moving?"

In the distance, the outer edge of the sandy terrain gave way to lush green grass. Unlike previous illusions, this felt real. Still, the demonic disturbances weren't entirely understood—though seastone had proven useful in resisting their effects.

Ryuunosuke's senses flared. A powerful presence was ahead.

"This won't be easy," he thought grimly.

"Wait…" Buggy suddenly froze. His face, once smug and animated, turned pale. Trembling. Eyes wide with fear.

There was nothing visible before them—nothing at all. And yet, something had utterly shaken him.

Then came the voice.

"Divine Departure!"

That voice—it stopped Ryuunosuke cold. Buggy knees buckled.

It couldn't be.

A devastating slash screamed through the air.

"Heavenly Blade: Underworld Flash!"

Ryuunosuke drew both swords instantly, charging toward the oncoming attack. If that strike had hit Buggy and his crew, they'd be vaporized.

The sound of steel clashing echoed across the landscape, followed by a blast of dust and wind.

"He's dead, right?"

"Dragon Hunters got wiped clean off the map!"

"Tch. Acting all tough—look where that got them."

Buggy crew, trembling but still alive, began to mock the situation—still clueless, still cocky.

Too cocky.

Buggy, drenched in cold sweat, turned to them, veins popping in his forehead.

"You idiots. SHUT. UP."

The crew froze.

"You think you can mock them and live? Ryuunosuke could erase all of us without even trying."

They blinked in confusion.

"But Captain, why are you—?"

"They're our allies," Buggy snapped. "Mocking your allies—especially ones this powerful—makes you fools. And worse, liabilities."

He wasn't speaking for their benefit. His words were meant for the figure still hidden in the swirling dust.

Ryuunosuke.

He was still standing—no doubt about it.

And the Dragon Hunter Pirates? They hadn't even flinched.

One wrong word and Buggy whole crew could be gone.

Then a familiar voice echoed out.

"Alright, Buggy. Cut the speech. Come over here and greet your Captain."

The crew blinked.

"Captain?"

Buggy face twisted in disbelief.

"No way… it can't be…"

He ran forward, pushing through the fog. What he saw stopped him dead.

There, standing like a statue of legend, was Gol D. Roger.

Buggy's voice trembled. "I… I saw you die. I saw it with my own eyes…"

His legs gave way. But Ryuunosuke placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"It's not him," Ryuunosuke said quietly. "Or at least, not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a construct—something created using advanced technology. Probably like Bartholomew Kuma, turned into a machine."

He scanned the figure again.

"Pacifists created through bloodline factor science. Mass-producible monsters with Admiral-level firepower… and this one was made to look like Roger."

"Those bastards…" Buggy growled.

Even after death, his captain's image was being used like a puppet.

"Unforgivable."

"Calm down," Ryuunosuke said. "I still need your help to find the treasure."

He adjusted his grip on his twin blades.

"Leave the rest to me. His Divine Departure attack doesn't work on your body. But your Observation Haki won't help you dodge it either. So step back."

"Bang!"

As if triggered by Ryuunosuke's movement, the Roger puppet lunged forward.

Blades clashed in a titanic burst of force.

This wasn't Roger's original sword, Ace, but it was still a powerful weapon coated with dense Armament Haki.

Ryuunosuke furrowed his brow.

"Not bad. A puppet with real bite."

But it was only pressure—not danger.

If this had been the real Roger, Ryuunosuke would've been excited for the duel.

But against a puppet?

"Frozen Verse!"

He stabbed his Blue Blade into the ground. An arctic wave spread like wildfire.

The air turned thick with frost, moisture condensing into shimmering ice crystals. The Roger puppet began to slow, its joints freezing up.

"That's the problem with machines," Ryuunosuke said coldly. "They break."

"A shame you had to be modeled after a legend."

"Snowfall Art: Feathered Judgment!"

Thousands of glowing blades rained down like celestial feathers.

The Roger puppet staggered—frozen, cracked, overwhelmed.

And then—

Boom!

It shattered.

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