Chapter 36: What a Good Man
SLAM!
The table shuddered under Crocodile's fist, silencing Vergil and startling everyone present. In his carefully curated role as the national hero, Crocodile always maintained an air of cool, detached competence. But the people of Alabasta were noticing a change since his return—a sharper edge, quicker temper, a visible tension.
Was the journey too taxing? Or is he simply deeply worried for Alabasta's safety?
Regardless, no one in Alabasta saw "Sir Crocodile" as a mere pirate anymore. His Warlord title lent legitimacy, and his presence had genuinely cowed the local pirate scourge.
[Sir Crocodile is such a good man!]
...
I want to kill every single one of these nuisances! Crocodile seethed internally.
The Drum Kingdom? Arms dealers? Underworld factions? Were they all tired of living?
His usual response to such interference would be to storm Drum Island personally and bury it under a desert. But he couldn't risk Alabasta. It was the perfect base—hiding secrets like the Poneglyph, a Grand Line superpower where he could grow his shadow empire unnoticed by the Marines.
"This is all I know for now," Crocodile said, pulling a cigar from his coat. He went to light it, but Vergil snuffed the flame with a pinch of his fingers. Vergil then pointed meaningfully at Vivi. Children present.
Crocodile: "…"
He settled for clamping the unlit cigar between his teeth, speaking around it in a frigid tone. "Alabasta and Drum are both World Government affiliates. As a Warlord, I have no official standing to interfere in disputes between member kingdoms."
He let that hang, then continued, "But I'm not one to sit idle. Once I identify the troublemakers, I'll handle them. You needn't involve yourselves."
"…"
His intent was to keep the Alabastans out of his way. He was also genuinely curious: what kind of arms dealer would be bold—or foolish—enough to target a superpower? What was their goal? Their method? Intel on such players was always useful.
To the room, however, his words sounded differently. They sounded like:
"Don't worry. Leave the underworld scum to me."
"…"
"Very well. Let's assess the situation," Cobra said, nodding gravely. "The Drum Kingdom's declaration of war is nonsensical. Their subsequent actions are even stranger."
He unfurled a nautical chart marked with recent points of conflict. "Look. These incidents are all along Alabasta's vital offshore trade and fishing routes. They're targeting our livelihood. It's harassment, pure and simple, as if deliberately stoking our anger."
Harassment was a losing strategy for a small nation against a large one; it couldn't wear Alabasta down. Yet Drum persisted, seemingly begging for a full-scale war.
"There's a conspiracy here," Cobra concluded, stroking his chin. "It's not kind to say, but I doubt King Wapol of Drum is clever enough to mastermind this."
To put it bluntly: Wapol lacked the intellect for subtlety.
So the puppeteer had to be someone else in his court.
"…"
"Alabasta is vast. Pinpointing the source from here is impossible. But we must act." Cobra's expression firmed with resolve. "I will go to Nanohana myself. See the situation at the port. It's the surest way."
"Your Majesty?!"
Igaram and the guards were aghast. Since when did a king personally visit a potential warzone at the first sign of trouble?
"Absolutely not, sire! It's far too dangerous with the enemy's motives unclear!" Igaram pleaded, his voice strained.
Cobra's expression told him it was futile. Reluctantly, Igaram agreed but insisted the three Royal Guards accompany him.
"No," Cobra refused. "Igaram, you remain in Alubarna. Handle affairs here and guard… that thing."
That thing—the Poneglyph.
"This… Very well." Igaram nodded grimly. The Poneglyph was a danger that needed watching. And with the two "guardian deities," Pell and Chaka, the king's safety was assured.
"…"
Crocodile watched the exchange with bored disdain. He almost said the two Zoan users were irrelevant. His gaze drifted to the being beside him.
After all, they had a real monster here.
...
They rested for the night. At dawn, a party of six set out for Nanohana.
Six?
It wasn't until they were leaving that Crocodile noticed the small, blue-haired girl perched comfortably on Vergil's shoulders.
Vivi?!
He blinked, wondering why the princess was tagging along on what could be a dangerous trip. A glance at Cobra and the guards' resigned expressions told him they'd already lost that argument.
"…"
Whatever.
Alvin Vergil's very existence was teaching Crocodile a lesson: overthinking just led to headaches. Sometimes, it was better not to think at all.
He gave up.
Nearby, Pell and Chaka were fervently promising Cobra they would defend the princess with their lives.
"…"
"Heh heh heh…"
Having surrendered his thoughts, Crocodile felt a dark amusement bubble up.
Safety?
Of course she was safe. She was currently riding atop a head worth 500,000,000 Berries. That was a rare kind of security.
...
As royalty, they traveled on the back of a giant Camel Crab, a creature bred for desert transport. It wasn't as fast as Vergil or Crocodile could move alone, but it reached Nanohana in a single day.
The port city was as they'd left it—tense, weary citizens maintaining a brittle vigilance.
"This can't continue," Cobra murmured, frowning. The people's morale was a resource too. Sustained fear would lead to breakdowns.
...
Evening approached. They planned to rest at the garrison barracks.
Then, a piercing alarm shattered the dusk.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The direction: the docks.
Residents stirred. Cobra and his group rushed toward the commotion.
A sleek, single-masted sloop was racing toward the harbor under full sail, showing no sign of slowing.
"Enemy attack! It's an enemy attack!"
The Royal Guard troops mobilized, simultaneously herding civilians back from the waterfront.
"It's a Drum Kingdom vessel!"
"It's not stopping!"
"It's going to ram the pier! Clear out!"
"…"
THUD!
A dark figure landed on the very edge of the targeted dock. He was tall, powerfully built, a fierce grin on his face. Perched on his shoulders, holding onto his horns of dark hair for balance, was a small, blue-haired girl.
The desert winds were fierce, and concerned for her safety, Vergil had simply kept Vivi with him. The little princess's courage was notable; facing a charging warship, her expression remained steady, only marked by curiosity.
"Mr. Vergil, should I get down?" she asked.
"It's fine."
"Okay!"
"…"
Vergil cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp in the tense air. He took a deep, roaring breath, and his body shifted.
Chīguǐ Form!
The dark green, curving horns sprouted anew. This time, two small hands held onto them tightly. The stark contrast between the little princess and the [Demon] created a surreal, breathtaking image.
"Hold on!"
"Yes!"
Vergil strode forward. As the warship, driven by the wind and momentum, was about to smash into the dock, he took the impact head-on, planting his feet and shoving his palms against its carved bow.
"HRRRAAGH!"
With a thunderous shout, he arrested most of the vessel's kinetic energy. Wood splintered as a section of the dock gave way, pushing Vergil back several grinding meters.
Creeeak…
"Whew…"
He steadied himself, exhaling a plume of hot breath. Thankfully, the other docked ships were unharmed. The damage was repairable.
Vivi, on his shoulders, had only felt a strong jolt, nothing more. The little princess regained her balance and peered over the edge of the warship's deck.
She saw a strange sight.
On the deck stood a "bison," its hide crisscrossed with fresh wounds. Seeing the ship had finally stopped, the "bison" seemed to sag in relief. It shuddered, its form melting and shifting back into that of a heavily injured, muscular man who then collapsed face-first onto the planks with a heavy thump.
"What is it?" Vergil asked, craning his neck to see. His eyes narrowed.
He recognized the wounded man-beast.
It was Dalton, user of the Ox-Ox Fruit, Model: Bison, and Captain of the Drum Kingdom Royal Guard.
The man was barely conscious. With his last strength, he lifted his head, his voice a ragged, desperate gasp aimed at the figures on the dock:
"Save… save the people… of Drum… It's… it's… Gin…"
Then, darkness took him.
(End of Chapter)
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