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Aero knew what needed to be done he had to finish this properly. His strength couldn't just speak it had to command.
"You think I said you could leave?" he said coldly.
Bugsy, still sprawled face-first on the dirt, scrambled to flip over and face him.
"Boss! I—I was wrong! Please! I've got a family! Kids! What'll they do without me?" he pleaded, even smacking himself twice as fat tears rolled down his cheeks.
Behind him, his lackeys exchanged awkward glances.
But soon, slap, slap, they copied their boss, parroting the same pitiful plea like a chorus of desperate toddlers.
Aero just stared.
Dylan, already directing the casino's staff, moved in and began disarming Bugsy's crew. Swords, knives, axes everything was stripped away.
Aero sighed inwardly in relief.
He might've been stronger now, but his men? They were still ordinary. Dylan was tougher than most; he might survive a few knife wounds, but everyone else was just trained civilians with slightly above-average reflexes.
One well-placed strike and they'd be corpses.
As Dylan collected weapons, Aero stepped forward. His expression remained stoic.
Bugsy looked up fearfully this time as Aero approached.
His chin was suddenly lifted by Aero's boot.
Bugsy flinched, bracing for the end. He even started mumbling what sounded suspiciously like the last words.
But instead—
"I'm not going to kill you," Aero said coolly. "But if you want to live, you'll become my subordinate."
Bugsy blinked, stunned.
Then, tears returning in full force, he nodded rapidly.
"Yes, yes! I swear on everything, I'm yours, boss!"
Relief washed over him like a warm ocean tide. The despair he'd felt moments ago was gone replaced by euphoria.
Aero understood the emotion.
It was like cheering on a losing team during a relay race, only to have the final runner explode past the competition and win gold. Even if you weren't running you still felt like a champion.
Bugsy was feeling that now.
But his joy wavered as he glanced back at his crew many of whom were nervously murmuring to each other.
Wait.
Aero had said he could live.
But what about them?
Bugsy panicked.
If he abandoned his men again, who would ever follow him after this?
No.
If he became Aero's subordinate, then his subordinates… were Aero's as well.
That settled it.
He stood up and bellowed at his crew, "What are you slugs standing around for? Get up and bring the wine! We're swearing loyalty!"
"What? You don't even know the boss's name?" he yelled at a confused lackey.
Bugsy marched over to Aero and sheepishly asked, "Uh… boss? What's your full name?"
"Aero Aegis," he replied evenly.
Bugsy spun back to his crew.
"You hear that?! It's Aero Aegis! Remember it!"
Aero waved Dylan over.
Dylan towered over Bugsy by at least a foot and a half. With a sharp black suit and slicked-back brown hair, he looked every bit the enforcer.
Aero, at 5'9", wasn't exactly short, just slightly under his Earth height of six feet, but in this world? People ran tall.
Still, Dylan wasn't the norm. Most civilians in the East Blue were around 5'10" to 6'. Aero figured he still had room to grow he was only seventeen, after all.
Dylan stepped forward and glared down at Bugsy.
Bugsy, who stood barely over 5'2", snarled and swung a punch up—
Only for Aero to raise his hand.
And once again—
Bugsy floated.
Three meters into the air.
"Oops," Aero said casually, letting his ability go.
Bugsy thudded to the ground, immediately scrambling up and trying to act tough by wildly kicking at the air in Dylan's direction.
"Enough!" Aero finally snapped.
Both men froze and turned toward him like scolded children.
Satisfied, Aero continued:
"Bugsy, I'll spare you. But if you want power, wealth, and survival in this world… you serve me. Understood?"
"Of course, boss! Absolutely!"
"Bring the wine!" Bugsy shouted again.
Two of his men rushed over one carrying a jug, the other three small bowls.
Bugsy poured quickly.
He handed the first cup to Aero, then one to Dylan. The bodyguard hesitated but Aero nodded.
Dylan accepted the drink.
Bugsy raised his cup high.
"I, Bugsy, pledge my loyalty to Captain Aero Aegis now and forever!"
Dylan followed. "I, Dylan…"
Aero knocked back the liquor.
It was light, barely stronger than beer, but it warmed his chest nonetheless.
As the last of the wine was downed, Aero motioned for the crew to clean up the debris, repair the damaged wall, and treat the wounded.
The fight was over.
Once again, strength had spoken.
And Aero couldn't help but like how this world worked.
It's like building a game character. Power is everything.
Aero leaped to the third-floor window and landed inside the casino's top floor, his mind still spinning.
He thought about the drink again.
No, it had been too weak.
Pirates need real liquor. Strong stuff. Maybe I should try distilling something later.
He remembered reading about Capone Bege, the mob boss from the West Blue who built an empire around alcohol.
Maybe I should do the same.
But before that—
Training.
His men were weak. Untrained. Useless in a real fight.
That had to change.
He couldn't carry them forever.
If they were going to survive the Grand Line…
They needed to become warriors.
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~Thank you for reading!