Chapter 299: Crocodile's Decision
The Unluckies lowered themselves even further.
The pressure bearing down on them was overwhelming.
For the first time in a long while, the two Baroque Works messengers felt as though their lives were balanced on a knife's edge. The only way to remain on the safe side was simple.
Obey the white-haired youth in front of them.
His words were not loud.
There was no shouting or overt threat.
Yet every sentence carried an authority that made disobedience feel unthinkable.
The small house stood relatively close to the center of Whiskey Peak.
Naturally, the gunfire from earlier had not gone unnoticed.
The bounty hunters currently busy "welcoming" the newly arrived pirates were extremely sensitive to such sounds. Before long, several people had gathered outside.
Through the ruined doorway, they witnessed a strange sight.
The Unluckies, who normally carried out Baroque Works' orders without fear of anyone in Whiskey Peak, were kneeling on the floor.
Neither dared resist.
One of the onlookers swallowed.
"So it really is him..."
"The wanted criminal."
There were levels even among criminals.
Someone with a bounty exceeding a hundred million Berries belonged to an entirely different class from ordinary pirates and bounty hunters.
And the young man inside carried a bounty of four hundred million.
Axel had no interest in being stared at like an exhibit.
"Go back and tell your boss."
His gaze fell on the kneeling messengers.
"If he wants me to join Baroque Works, he should show some sincerity first."
"I want a Log Pose pointing to Drum Island."
He paused.
"And I want to hear what terms he's prepared to offer."
The invisible pressure vanished.
The Unluckies remained still for a moment, almost afraid that moving too quickly would provoke him again.
Then they cautiously looked up.
Axel made no further move.
Only then did the two animals slowly rise.
Without wasting another second, they fled through the broken doorway.
Axel's attention shifted toward the people gathered outside.
"What?"
His tone remained casual.
"Do the rest of you intend to stay too?"
The bounty hunters stiffened.
Then the corpses scattered across the room began to move.
Bodies lifted from the floor one after another.
Fragments of wood and loose gravel, torn free by the earlier gunfire, rose with them.
The entire mass swirled through the room before surging toward the doorway.
The bounty hunters outside recoiled.
They were not frightened by the corpses themselves.
Anyone who survived long in their profession became accustomed to death.
What unsettled them was the effortless way Axel manipulated everything in front of them.
The bodies passed through the doorway.
Once outside, their momentum weakened.
Then they dropped.
Several bounty hunters jumped aside in time.
A few were less fortunate.
The bodies crashed down on top of them, pinning them to the ground.
"No, no!"
"We weren't planning to stay!"
Several of the quicker-thinking bounty hunters answered immediately.
Nobody wanted trouble with a four-hundred-million-Berry criminal.
They had already seen enough to understand that Axel operated on a level far beyond theirs.
More importantly, his bounty called for capture alive.
That made the situation even worse.
If the poster had simply said dead or alive, perhaps a reckless few might have considered trying to snipe him from a distance.
Capturing someone like this alive?
Impossible.
The crowd began backing away.
Then Axel spoke again.
"Wait."
Everyone stopped.
"You were holding a banquet for those pirates earlier, weren't you?"
The bounty hunters exchanged confused looks.
Whiskey Peak had always operated that way.
Pirates arrived.
The townspeople welcomed them with food, alcohol, music, and celebration.
Once the visitors lowered their guard, the bounty hunters struck.
It was hardly a secret to anyone living here.
"Yes," one of them answered carefully.
Axel nodded.
"Bring me the food."
Silence.
Then several people moved immediately.
Nobody was going to argue with him over dinner.
Within moments, the bounty hunters rushed back toward the banquet.
And once they began working, they did not stop at merely bringing food.
The corpses were removed.
The debris was cleared away.
Someone even found replacement boards and began repairing the damaged floor.
Another group fixed the broken doorway.
Their efficiency was almost frightening.
They moved like servants at an expensive hotel desperately trying to satisfy an unreasonable guest.
There was only one goal in all their minds.
Keep Axel satisfied.
Then get him out of Whiskey Peak as quickly as possible.
Nobody wanted to end up as another tombstone on Cactus Rock.
There was another reason for their enthusiasm.
The Marines had been searching for Axel for three years without success.
Now that he had finally appeared, even information about his location could be worth a considerable reward.
That alone was enough to make every bounty hunter in town suddenly eager to be helpful.
...
Far away from Whiskey Peak, another man received the news.
The room around him was built almost entirely from specially reinforced glass.
Each pane was strong enough to withstand several minutes of sustained machine-gun fire.
The material was extraordinarily expensive.
For wealthy merchants and nobles terrified of assassination, it was considered an ideal defensive luxury.
Very few could afford even a modest amount.
Yet here, enough had been used to construct an entire enclosure.
Inside that enclosure swam an enormous Banana Gator.
The ridges along its back resembled clusters of bananas, but nothing about the creature itself was harmless.
Its massive body looked prehistoric.
Its jaws were powerful enough to crush a house.
Yet something that dangerous was being kept as a pet.
Its owner was one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
Crocodile.
He sat nearby with a cigar between his lips.
His dark hair was slicked back, and the long scar across his face only sharpened his already intimidating appearance.
A Transponder Snail rested beside him.
Crocodile listened silently to the report from Whiskey Peak.
When it ended, he remained quiet for a short while.
Then he made his decision.
"Send the information to Mr. 3."
His voice carried through the Transponder Snail.
"Have him take the Log Pose for Drum Island to that brat."
Crocodile drew slowly on his cigar.
"And give him this message."
"He can name his own terms."
There was a pause from the other end.
Apparently, even the subordinate receiving the order had not expected Crocodile to make such a generous offer.
After a moment, the answer came.
"Yes, sir."
Crocodile ended the call.
Despite his rough appearance, his next movement was unexpectedly delicate.
He reached toward a glass containing a flower and plucked it free with two fingers.
Inside the reinforced enclosure, the Banana Gator abruptly stopped moving.
Then it slowly backed away.
Animals possessed instincts sharper than those of ordinary humans.
The enormous creature could crush most men with a single bite.
Yet every instinct it possessed warned it not to approach the man beyond the glass.
Compared with the beast's enormous body, Crocodile looked almost insignificant.
But if the Banana Gator ever tried to close those jaws around him, it somehow knew the result.
It would die.
Crocodile paid no attention to the animal.
He looked toward the empty space before him.
"I hope you make the right decision this time."
Smoke curled from his cigar.
"My patience isn't unlimited."
As he spoke, the water inside the glass enclosure began to recede.
At first, slowly.
Then faster.
It was as though something invisible were drawing every trace of moisture away.
The water level dropped until nothing remained.
The flower between Crocodile's fingers withered at the same time.
Its petals shriveled.
Its stem dried.
Then the entire flower crumbled into sand.
....
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