Bege's coat shifted again.
Jack noticed it a fraction of a second before it finished unfolding—not because he understood what he was seeing, but because something deep and quiet inside him suddenly screamed. Metal plates slid beneath fabric, thick and layered, mechanisms locking into place with a grinding sound that should not belong to something inside a human coat.
A cannon barrel emerged from Bege's torso.
A real, black, yawning cannon barrel, wide enough to swallow a man's head, aimed directly at Jack's chest.
Jack's grin vanished.
"Oh come on," Jack said, genuinely offended. "That's unfair."
Bege's teeth were red with blood when he smiled back. His breath came ragged, his coat smoking in places, but his eyes were sharp—focused, cruel, alive.
"Everything's fair," Bege rasped, "when you're the one still standing."
The cannon fired.
Sound vanished first—replaced by a violent pressure that crushed the air flat. Jack moved without thinking, body twisting sideways at the last possible instant. His feet were already shifting before his brain caught up, guided by something instinctual and primal that screamed move or die.
The cannonball roared past where his head had been a heartbeat earlier.
It erased the large doors behind him.
Wood exploded into a cloud of splinters. Iron hinges shrieked like dying animals. The entire frame was ripped inward as the blast tore through the office, the shockwave ripping papers from walls, smashing furniture, and flinging debris like shrapnel.
Smoke and dust swallowed everything.
Jack rolled across the floor, coughing violently as stone scraped his shoulder. His ears rang, a high-pitched whine drowning out everything else. He came up on one knee, vision swimming, tasting blood and dust.
"Captain!" Gibbs shouted somewhere in the haze.
Ragetti screamed from the other side of the room. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW THE COAT WAS CHEATING! IT'S AN ARMORY!"
Jack blinked hard, forcing his eyes to focus.
Through the drifting smoke, he saw Ragetti dragging a fallen guard upright and crouching behind the limp body like a grotesque shield. Bullets pinged uselessly off armor and flesh as Ragetti huddled behind it.
"I CALL THIS TACTICAL!" Ragetti yelled.
The dust thickened.
Then—silence.
Ragetti peeked out from behind his human barricade.
He saw Jack.
Jack was already moving.
Jack sprinted forward, boots pounding across shattered stone and broken furniture, sword raised. His coat flared behind him, momentum carrying him in a straight line toward Bege. The mafia boss was bracing himself, coat grinding again as internal mechanisms whirred.
The cannon retracted.
Another barrel slid into place with a dull, ominous clunk.
Too slow.
Jack closed the distance in three steps.
Bege's eyes widened just as the next cannonball slid into position.
Jack swung.
The blade struck the cannonball at the exact instant it was about to fire.
For a heartbeat—nothing happened.
Then the explosion detonated inward.
Fire and force erupted from Bege's torso, ripping metal apart from the inside. The blast threw Jack backward like a discarded doll, his body slamming into the floor hard enough to crack stone. The air was punched from his lungs in a violent gasp.
Jack rolled, coughed, spat blood, and dragged himself upright on sheer stubbornness alone.
Smoke curled around the room like living things.
Across from him, Bege was embedded in the wall.
Yes, embedded.
Stone had caved around his massive frame, bricks shattered and bent inward as if the wall itself had tried—and failed—to swallow him whole. Smoke poured from his coat. A deep, ugly burn ran across his stomach, flesh charred and smoking beneath torn fabric.
Jack stared.
That's going to leave a scar, he thought absently.
A big one.
Bege's chest rose and fell.
His eyes were open.
"…Still alive," Jack muttered. "Persistent."
Augur stepped up beside Jack without a word, rifle already raised. The barrel pressed against Bege's forehead, close enough that even breathing felt dangerous.
Gibbs moved in from the other side, flintlock steady, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.
Ragetti limped closer, glancing back once at Pintel's unconscious form. Blood soaked through the hastily wrapped bandage around Pintel's ankle, dark and wet.
Ragetti winced. "He's going to in a world of pain when he wakes up."
Bege looked between them.
The anger drained from his face.
What replaced it was unmistakable.
Fear.
His throat worked as he swallowed, breath hitching painfully. "S-spare me," he rasped.
Jack tilted his head slightly. "Why?"
Bege's eyes flicked to the sword, then the guns, then the bodies of his guards scattered across his ruined office. "I can pay," he said quickly. "More than I already have."
Jack frowned. "You already promised that."
Bege coughed, blood bubbling at his lips. "I can give you everything."
Jack's eyes gleamed despite himself.
"Everything?" Jack repeated.
Bege nodded frantically, panic overriding pride. "All of it. Gold. Weapons. Contacts. Influence. My businesses. My men."
Jack took a step closer. "You tried to kill us."
Bege flinched. "You backstabbed me first."
"You shot my crewman," Jack added, glancing at Pintel.
Bege's jaw tightened. He wanted to argue. Wanted to shout that it was Jack's fault, that this was how the world worked.
He didn't.
"…I'll make it right," Bege said through clenched teeth.
Jack considered this, tapping his sword lightly against his shoulder.
Augur's finger tightened on the trigger. He looked at Jack, questioning.
Jack raised a hand.
"Wait."
Augur hesitated, then reluctantly lowered the rifle a fraction.
Bege exhaled shakily. "You won't regret this."
Jack squinted at him. "You're very eager."
"I don't want to die."
Jack nodded. "Fair."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "But if you're offering treasure greater than your own—"
Bege's eyes widened slightly.
Jack's smile spread, slow and sharp. "I want to hear about that."
Bege licked his lips, tasting blood and dust. "…I can give you the treasure of the Happo Navy."
Jack blinked.
Bege let out a weak, humorless breath. "Chinjao."
The room went still.
Gibbs' eyes widened, the name hitting him like a physical blow.
Augur's grip tightened again despite himself.
Ragetti frowned. "Is that… good?"
Jack's smile returned—wide, delighted, dangerous.
"Oh," Jack said softly. "That's very good."
He straightened, turning away from Bege as if the matter were already decided. "You see," Jack said cheerfully, pacing through the wreckage, "I was beginning to worry this whole affair wouldn't be worth the effort."
He glanced back towards Gibbs and whispered in a low voice, "Who is Hippo Navy and Xinzao?"
Gibbs facepalmed. Augur's eyes twitched.
"It's Happo Navy, they belong to Kano Country. And Chinjao is a legendary pirate who was a man respected by Monkey D Garp. It is said in one battle among them, Garp flattened Chinjao's special head drill."
Jack grinned, "Ah, so a legendary treasure guarded by a man who has a flattened head drill?"
Bege sagged slightly, relief and dread mixing in equal measure.
Jack stopped beside Augur. "Lower the gun."
Augur hesitated. "…Captain."
Jack met his eyes. "We won't kill him yet. He promised us even greater treasure. Think beyond your ten million. Besides, they belong me to now anyways since I am your captain. So do as I say."
Augur lowered the rifle.
Gibbs exhaled slowly. "You're trusting him."
Jack shrugged. "Trust is such a strong word. Besides the man claimed to be a respectful Mafia nanny. I have heard trust is everything for them."
He turned back to Bege. "You're going to tell us everything."
Bege nodded weakly. "Yes."
"And if you lie—" Jack leaned in, eyes glinting. "I let Ragetti throw you again."
Ragetti brightened. "I can do that."
Bege swallowed hard.
Jack turned toward the broken doorway, sunlight spilling through the wreckage. He inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of smoke, blood, and opportunity.
"Well," Jack said brightly, "this meeting has exceeded expectations."
Behind him, Capone Bege stared at the ceiling, realizing with cold clarity that surviving Jack Sparrow might be worse than dying to him.