"All in!!!"
Mike's bold shout echoed throughout Rain Dinners.
Without hesitation, he pushed all his chips to the center of the table.
Leaning back in his chair, he took a slow drag from his cigar, a smug smile playing on his lips.
"My luck here is terrible," he muttered to himself, though his confidence remained unshaken.
"I've been losing so many rounds already."
But his gambler's intuition told him—this was the one. Just go all in and be done with it!
A 1-billion-Belly comeback, all riding on this hand!
Beside him, a beautiful attendant was frantically signaling the dealer with her eyes.
'What the hell are you doing?!'
'Captain Mike has lost ten rounds in a row—hurry up and rig the deck already!'
'Don't you know this is a VIP of the highest caliber?!'
The dealer was also sweating bullets, his head lowered as he stole a glance at the cards in his hand.
"I… I've done my best!"
Panic surged through him.
He had already pulled out all the stops, dealing the best possible hands to this high-roller, yet he still couldn't win.
Not only was this guy terrible at cards, but his luck was downright rotten!
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
"Oh, you again? Going all in again?"
Smoker walked over, arms laden with chips, and plopped down unceremoniously next to Mike.
"Smokey, you're cheating with Observation Haki, aren't you?"
Mike glanced at Smoker's pile of chips and immediately concluded he was cheating.
No way in hell could the guy who never beat him in cards on the warship win this many chips fair and square!
Smoker snorted disdainfully. "Bullshit. I won all these fair and square!"
Just then, Kuro stepped in with a mysterious smile, whispering something to the dealer before taking his place and dealing the cards himself.
"Oh-ho~"
Mike's eyes lit up at Kuro's precise, professional demeanor.
Raising an eyebrow, he grinned.
"Kuro, looking sharp over there~"
"Thank you for the compliment," Kuro replied with a faint smile. "Captain, please reveal your hand."
Mike flipped his cards. "Oh-ho, I win!"
"My luck is finally turning around!"
"Hey, another win!"
"Sweet, all in!"
"Hahaha!"
This time, Mike didn't even look at his cards—he just rubbed them between his hands and confidently slapped them down.
Kuro—he was his lucky charm!
"Take that!"
I told you long ago—1 billion Belly, easy peasy!
...
Baroque Works headquarters.
Dim lighting cast a mysterious, oppressive atmosphere over the room.
The only sound in the empty space was the heavy footsteps of Crocodile—tap, tap, tap—echoing through the silence.
Robin sat on the sofa, idly stroking the lazy banana gator in her lap.
Suddenly, she looked up as Crocodile entered, surprise flickering in her eyes.
"Mr. 0, you're back?"
"..."
Crocodile didn't respond to her greeting.
His gaze was downcast, as if weighed down by some heavy thought.
Without pause, he strode straight to his boss chair and dropped into it with a heavy thud.
Thump—
The chair creaked as Crocodile leaned back.
The sharpness in his eyes was gone, replaced instead by a trace of confusion.
"...?"
Robin's eyes flickered with surprise at Crocodile's current state.
Was this really the Crocodile she knew?
Crocodile had always been shrewd, capable, and ruthlessly cold.
How had he become like this?
Crocodile reclined in his executive chair, pulling a cigar from the drawer.
"Puff—"
After lighting it, he took a deep drag, thick smoke swirling around him, carrying a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.
The dense haze made it impossible to discern the expression on his face.
"Mr. 0?"
Robin's brow furrowed slightly. Unable to suppress her curiosity, her gaze lingered on Crocodile's gloomy face.
Wasn't Mr. 0 supposed to be putting on a show in Yuba?
Why had he suddenly returned, and in such a defeated state?
"Robin,"
Crocodile's voice was hoarse as he broke the silence, "Tell me, are the people important?"
"Huh…?"
Robin blinked, her eyes widening.
Why would Crocodile ask such a question?
He had always dismissed the common people as fools, beneath his notice.
In his eyes, only those with exploitable value warranted the slightest attention—the rest were mere tools and pawns, utterly worthless.
Moreover, Crocodile only ever called her "Robin" in the most serious of circumstances.
Normally, he referred to her as "Miss All Sunday."
This was truly bizarre.
What had happened?
"Why bring this up so suddenly?" Robin's mind was buzzing with questions.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, her voice calm but laced with deep wariness.
Crocodile remained silent for a moment, then took another deep breath, his voice rasping and low as he repeated,
"Robin, tell me—are the people truly important?"
This time, Robin sensed the gravity in Crocodile's tone.
His gaze pierced through the smoke, fixed on her, desperate for an answer.
He had never asked anyone so directly before—especially about something as trivialized in his mind as "the people."
Now, Robin understood: Crocodile was dead serious, and he needed her answer.
But… what were the people?
Memories of the Ohara incident flashed through Robin's mind—her mother, Dr. Clover, the scholars who perished in Ohara, Vice Admiral Jaguar D. Saul, who had tried to uphold Justice, the refugee ship bombarded by cannon fire…
"I…"
Robin's lips parted as if countless words teetered on the tip of her tongue.
But in the end, she only murmured softly, "I don't know either, Boss."
"Puff—"
Crocodile exhaled a slow ring of smoke, his eyes growing complex and somber.
"Never mind. I didn't expect you to have an answer anyway."
On one side was the path Captain Mike had spoken of—a road to glory.
On the other was the empire he had painstakingly built over the years.
He thought of the Revolutionary—Dragon.
A single slash, a grievous wound.
This wasn't fear.
It was respect for strength.
Crocodile shut his eyes tightly, drawing a deep breath as the turmoil within him finally settled.
He muttered under his breath, "Let's give it a try."
A long-lost resolve surged through him, and the sharp glint returned to his eyes.
Once, he had climbed to this position through wit and cunning.
But now, he needed a new kind of power to propel himself forward.
Then, he turned to Robin, his voice resolute.
"Gather all the senior officers of Baroque Works."
Robin gave a slight nod and silently left the room, leaving only Crocodile behind.
He leaned deeply into his chair, staring ahead in silence.
"So, what's your decision?"
Suddenly, a cold hand rested on Crocodile's shoulder, the icy touch instantly putting him on alert, his body stiffening.
Crocodile sharply turned his head, his eyes widening in an instant.
"You—"
"One of the Marine Admiral', Kuzan?"
"How... why are you here?"
"So, Crocodile, what's your decision?"
Kuzan's voice was deep, carrying an undeniable pressure.
"..."
"I've decided to follow Captain Mike's suggestion and begin atoning for my past mistakes."
Kuzan gave a slight nod, exhaling a chilling breath.
"A wise decision."