Inside the Regent's office, Vivi sat frozen on a chair, her trembling body swaddled in a heavy curtain that had been hastily torn from the window, wrapped around her from her shoulders down like a makeshift shroud. Her wide, scared eyes were locked on Igaram's lifeless body, which lay sprawled on the floor in a pool of crimson blood.
She was too scared to look at Crocodile, too terrified to meet the gaze of the monster who had shattered her world. She didn't even want to think about what the future held for her, about the fate that awaited her at the hands of this cruel and ruthless man.
On the other side of the room, bathed in the dim light filtering through the windows, Crocodile stood silently, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl, his expression a mask of intense frustration. A tipped-over bookshelf lay behind him, its contents scattered on the floor. He clenched his jaw tightly, the muscles in his face twitching as he bit down hard on his cigar, the burning tobacco providing a temporary distraction from the turmoil raging within him.
Just a day. No, not even a day. A single night. his meticulous plan was threatening to unravel because of that imbecile, Igaram.
The infuriating, persistent bodyguard had contacted him via Den Den Mushi that evening, his voice laced with an urgency that couldn't be ignored, demanding that Crocodile come to the palace immediately for his official appointment as Regent and to discuss "important business." Crocodile had been forced to abandon his appointment with the ladies, to tear himself away from the comfortable embrace of his luxurious bedroom, only to be confronted with Igaram's accusations, with the very real threat of his entire scheme collapsing around him.
After a long, agonizing silence, Vivi finally mustered the courage to speak, her voice trembling like a leaf in the wind. "Are... Are... You going to kill me too...?" she whispered, her eyes darting nervously towards Crocodile, her heart pounding in her chest.
One of Crocodile's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression shifting from frustration to a puzzled bewilderment. "No, Vivi. Why would I do that?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of genuine confusion. He started tapping the table with his hooked arm, the metallic tapping sound amplifying the tension in the room and making Vivi's fear spike.
"B... B... Because... Y... You killed Igaram!" Vivi stammered, her voice gaining strength as her sadness and sense of loss began to momentarily overcome her fear.
"HUH!" Crocodile exclaimed, his jaw dropping in disbelief. "That moron suddenly slashed at me with his sword! At someone with the Suna Suna no Mi! Of course, his attack just slipped right through my sand body, then he wrecked that bookshelf! And, of all things, there was a bowling ball on top of it! The bowling ball fell, and... What kind of madman puts a bowling ball on top of a bookshelf?!"
A question mark seemed to comically materialize above Vivi's head, her brow furrowing in confusion. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on a bowling ball lying close to Igaram's lifeless body, a dark stain of blood marring its surface. So... it was all a misunderstanding after all? Vivi then asked Crocodile carefully, her voice laced with a fragile hope, "Then... You're not a bad guy?"
Crocodile looked at Vivi with an amused glint in his eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Me? A bad guy?" he repeated, as if the very notion were absurd.
Crocodile then lit another cigar, took a long drag, and exhaled a plume of smoke into the air, his face half-hidden in the shadows. Then, with a wicked smile that sent shivers down Vivi's spine, he continued with a low, menacing voice: "No, my dear. I am pure evil."
"GAH!" Vivi exclaimed, as if struck by a bolt of lightning, her eyes widening in horror. Her small body began to shake uncontrollably, and tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks in a torrent of grief and terror. She then burst into uncontrollable sobs, "Waaaaah! Waaaah! Waaaah!"
"Be quiet! Or I'll roast your duck!" Crocodile snapped, his voice laced with annoyance. Hearing Crocodile threaten to harm Karoo, her beloved pet duck, Vivi bit her lip, stifling her sobs in an attempt to protect her feathered friend.
Crocodile glanced at the full moon hanging high in the night sky outside the window, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. His thoughts started to wander, circling back to the events that had led him to this point. His plan had started to go wrong ever since he'd encountered that damned swordsman, Guts. "Maybe that bastard's curse is real," he muttered under his breath, a flicker of superstitious dread crossing his face.
Then, as if summoned by his thoughts, the door to the Regent's office blasted open, splintering into pieces as Pell stepped inside, his face a mask of grim determination. His gaze swept across the chaotic scene, taking in the overturned bookshelf, the scattered debris, and finally, the lifeless body of Igaram. His eyes then locked onto Vivi, who sat huddled and trembling on the chair, her face stained with tears. "Your Highness!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency and concern.
"Oh, come on!" an exasperated word escaped from Crocodile's mouth. But before he could react, before he could even formulate a plan, Pell's Zoan Devil Fruit ability activated, and his body began to transform, morphing into a giant falcon. With a powerful flap of his massive wings, Pell swooped down, grabbed Vivi with his talons, and crashed through the window, shattering the glass and sending shards flying in all directions. In a matter of seconds, he soared into the night sky, flying towards the horizon with Vivi clutched tightly in his grasp.
"Fuck you, Guts, and your curse!" Crocodile spat, his voice filled with venomous rage. He then turned and strode out of the ruined office, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Guards!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the palace halls.
When morning came, the news of Pell's alleged betrayal spread like wildfire across the Alabasta Kingdom, twisted and amplified with each retelling. Once the loyal royal guard, was now branded a traitor, accused of kidnapping the sole heir to the Alabasta throne, Princess Vivi.
Meanwhile, far away from the chaos and turmoil of Alabasta, in the tranquil waters of the East Blue, inside the bustling Baratie restaurant, the restaurant that had become a phenomenal success since its grand opening five years ago, sat Guts with a perpetually annoyed expression on his face.
Beside him sat Nico Robin, who had returned to her adult appearance, now a graceful and intelligent 21-year-old woman.
She was enjoying her steak with a faint blush on her cheeks, brought on by Buggy's relentless teasing.
"Say, Guts," a voice drawled, cutting through the din of the restaurant, "have you ever been kicked with the speed of light?" As the words fell, Guts reluctantly averted his gaze from Robin and turned to face the speaker: Borsalino, the newly appointed Admiral of the Marines, who sat across from him with an unamused expression on his face.
Guts simply inclined his chin, a curt gesture that signaled Borsalino to continue with his unchanging expression.
The very sight of Borsalino had already soured Guts' mood; the man's very existence felt like an annoyance. There was something about the man's laid-back demeanor and flashy appearance that rubbed him the wrong way.
If Borsalino foolishly gave him a reason to unleash the simmering rage that always threatened to erupt, Guts would gladly oblige.
"Here I am," Borsalino began, his voice laced with barely concealed frustration, "working myself to the bone, chasing after a group of psychopaths and overflowing pirates in the Grand Line because some idiot decided to kill the Marine's most feared Vice Admiral, which just so happened to be a close friend of mine. And here you are, the same idiot, back in the peaceful East Blue, enjoying yourself drinking expensive wine and smoking expensive cigarettes, as if nothing ever happened!" Borsalino spat, throwing all his bottled-up frustration and resentment directly at Guts.
"Listen up, Bono," Guts growled with a low voice that sent a shiver down the spines of nearby patrons. "That magma bastard tried to harm my daughter. You think I'm just gonna stand there and let him?"
Borsalino wagged his index finger back and forth, his usual laid-back demeanor momentarily cracking. "Non, non, non, it's Borsalino," he corrected, his voice laced with exasperation. He then continued, trying to reason with Guts, "And you couldn't have just, you know, whacked his head with your... lump of metal? Knocked him out cold? Instead, you split him apart! So kowai! Is calling 911 not an option anymore?"
"Robin did call the Marine base," Guts retorted, attempting to defend his actions, though his tone suggested he didn't quite grasp the gravity of the situation.
"After you buried almost one hundred thousand Alabasta soldiers!" Borsalino slammed his own head onto the table with a resounding thud, the sound echoing through the restaurant. Never in all his years had he lost his composure like this, maybe because of the never-ending overtime and the complete lack of a holiday for months. The stress was finally getting to him, and Guts was the unfortunate target of his pent-up frustration.
Guts stared at Borsalino's dramatic display with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. "What are you even doing here, anyway?" he grumbled, his hand instinctively drifting towards the hilt of his sword.
Borsalino slowly lifted his head from the table, his eyes bloodshot from a severe lack of sleep. "For the free luxurious food, of course!" he declared with a theatrical flourish. He then continued, his tone shifting to an accusatory whine, "Don't tell me, you don't want to treat this poor, low-paid, overworked salaryman to a decent meal?"
Guts clicked his tongue in irritation. "Why are you in the East Blue?" he corrected himself, remembering Borsalino's position. "Aren't you supposed to be patrolling the Grand Line?"
"Oh, I'm not here specifically for you, Devil Swordsman," Borsalino replied, a wide, almost mischievous grin spreading across his face. He then continued, puffing out his chest with mock pride, "While I was slaving away, I happened to spot a ship being personally guarded by that sea king of yours. And I thought to myself, 'Why not allow my good friend, the Devil Swordsman, the opportunity to treat me to a luxurious lunch? It's the least he can do after all the trouble he's caused!' And so, here I am!"
Not long after, a blonde-haired boy with curled eyebrows, his face puffed up with bruises from Guts' earlier beating for daring to flirt with Robin, struggled to deliver a towering stack of plates with both hands, the extravagant meal that Borsalino had ordered without a shred of guilt.
"Ouf ofef er (your order sir) eas eng oy (please enjoy)," said the boy with considerable difficulty, his speech garbled by his swollen lip.
Borsalino looked at the boy with a fleeting expression of pity, then turned his gaze towards Robin, who was playfully smacking buggy, a payback for his teasing. "Must be hard for her to get a boyfriend with a father like you," Borsalino muttered under his breath, loud enough for Guts to hear.
Guts' eye twitched in an annoyance. "Mind your own business," he growled, then turned his attention towards the boy, Sanji, who was still standing there, staring at Robin with hearts practically leaping out of his eyes. "And you," Guts barked, "scram! And get back to work when you're done mooning over her!"
As the boy scrambled back towards the kitchen, Borsalino said, between mouthfuls of his seafood pasta, "Anyway, when does your vacation end? It's almost time for the Reverie. Sengoku needs you to return to your territory."
Guts sigh was heavy with resignation. It seems his vacation must end.
He needed to return to his territory in Whiskey Peak, to guard against the relentless stream of pirates pouring in from the Blue Seas. But first, he needed to pick up Uta on Dawn Island. "I'll call Sengoku later," Guts said, his tone conveying his reluctance to leave the peaceful East Blue behind.