Alabasta.
Rainbase, the city of dreams and the headquarters of Baroque Works.
Sir Crocodile stood atop a high vantage point, looking down at the crowd in the plaza below with a cold, satisfied glint in his eyes.
The feeling of absolute control, of watching his intricate plans unfold like clockwork, filled him with an indescribable thrill.
'How delightful,' he muttered to himself, a smirk tugging at his lips.
He loved this sensation, of reducing everyone—pirates, marines, even royalty—to mere pawns in his grand vision.
His gaze slowly shifted toward the Marine squad that had just entered the plaza.
He immediately recognized their leader, the infamous "White Hunter" of the East Blue.
"Captain Smoker?" Crocodile raised an eyebrow, his eyes brimming with disdain.
'A big fish from a very small pond.'
In his eyes, Smoker was nothing more than a minor player.
However, the man walking casually beside Smoker piqued his interest far more.
He was strikingly handsome, tall and well-built, yet his face carried an air of lazy nonchalance, as if he was born with an unhurried, carefree nature.
'This guy...' Crocodile's instincts stirred.
'He must be Kizaru's new adjutant—CaptainMike.'
"So, you're the one coming to 'inspect' Alabasta?" Crocodile's lips curled into a cold smirk, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.
'Do you even know whose territory this is? It's mine.'
The pirates causing a ruckus in the port city of Nanohana had all been deliberately let in by him, a carefully orchestrated bit of chaos to further his own plans.
This entire "show" was a chess game, and he was the undisputed master.
He remembered what he had told Robin: "Have Mike come see me personally!"
'It seems you've come specifically to pay your respects,' Crocodile thought, his ego swelling.
'Not bad.'
'You've got some sense. You know who the true king of Alabasta is'.
'As long as you don't interfere with my plans, I can spare a little face for the World Government.'
With that thought, he exhaled a deep puff of smoke and shouted down, his voice booming across the plaza.
"Mike! Smoker! You two—not bad!"
Hearing the loud, condescending call, Mike and Smoker instinctively looked up.
"Huh? Me?" Mike's face was a mask of genuine confusion.
He stared at the figure standing high above, his heart giving a slight jolt.
'Isn't that the infamous "Mr. 0," Crocodile?'
'Old Man Kizaru mentioned he'd made "arrangements," but this doesn't feel like an honored guest's welcome'.
"Hey!" Smoker's anger flared instantly.
"Crocodile, what's with that look?!" he roared, his hot-tempered nature taking over.
"Who the hell do you think you are?! You're just a government-sanctioned pirate! Perfect timing—I'll test my current strength on you!"
With a loud shout, Smoker threw a punch.
Thick white smoke swirled around his fist, charging straight at Crocodile.
"Hmph." Crocodile watched the attack approach, his lips curling into a disdainful smirk.
"A worthless Captain, daring to act tough in front of me. Today, I'll teach you a proper lesson about how a Logia-type Fruit is truly used."
With a casual wave of his hand, he unleashed a fierce sandstorm.
"Desert Spada!"
A blade of hardened sand shot forth, meeting Smoker's white smoke fist head-on.
The two forces collided mid-air, the shockwave causing the entire plaza to tremble.
On the outskirts of the battlefield, Commander Hayes, the officer from Headquarters, turned to Mike as he speak with a hesitant tone.
"Captain, Crocodile is one of the Seven Warlords. Wouldn't blindly engaging in battle be..."
"No need to worry, Commander" Kuro replied calmly before Hayes could even finish.
He then turned, retrieved a plush lounge chair from their supplies and placed it perfectly behind Mike.
Next, he set up a large parasol to shield his Captain from the desert sun.
"Kuro's right," Mike said, lighting a cigar as he lazily reclined into the chair.
"Why do you think Smoker dares to so blatantly disregard military protocol and attack a Warlord?" He gave Kuro a thumbs-up for the excellent service.
"Because Smoker is one of the few friends Admiral Aokiji has. He's the type who's cold on the outside but warm inside. If Smokey gets into real trouble, Aokiji will protect him."
Mike's expression grew indifferent as he settled in to watch the duel.
As for himself? He had even less to worry about.
Old Man Kizaru still needed his good name to enjoy his "vacations" in the East Blue.
Just then, a clamor from the nearby pirates disrupted his viewing.
"Hey! Crocodile's fighting the Marines!"
"Isn't he supposed to be working with the government?"
"Who cares! Let them fight each other! It's our chance to cause more chaos!"
Mike frowned, taking a deep drag from his cigar.
He turned his head leisurely, looking at Kuro standing rigidly behind him, and spoke in a calm, unhurried tone.
"Kuro, clean this up."
He gestured vaguely with his cigar.
"They're ruining my show."
"Yes, sir," Kuro's eyes sharpened instantly, and a cruel, predatory smile curled at the corner of his lips.
None of these pirates would be leaving Rainbase alive today.