The wind over Nanohana didn't feel like wind, it felt like a furnace breathing across the desert.
By the ti Zaraki's group reached the ruined relay post outside the city, the climbing sun had turned every stone into a heated blade.
Shimring heat waves distorted the broken walls as sand slipped through the collapsed gate, burying scattered spears, torn banners, and the footprints of n who had fought and died only monts before.
The stench of gunpowder still lingered in the air.
At the center of the ruins, Princess Vivi knelt beside Igaram, her blue hair coated in dust as she pressed desperately against his torn uniform.
The royal guard captain's breathing was heavy.
Scorched and trembling from the earlier blast, his first instinct was still to push Vivi away.
"Princess... you must run," he rasped, his urgent voice painfully weak. "As long as you survive, Alabasta still has hope."
Vivi shook her head, but before she could answer, a woman floated down lazily beneath a parasol.
Miss Valentine's light dress fluttered in the desert wind as if she were attending a garden party rather than standing on a battlefield.
"Run? How touching." Her shadow stretched over the princess like an execution block.
"Unfortunately, your country is already trapped in our boss's palm. The rebels, the royal army, the drought, the hatred toward your father... everything is moving exactly as planned. A princess who knows too much is just a loose thread that needs to be cut."
Beside the broken gate, Mr. 5 dug at his ear with the lazy confidence of a man who had never considered losing.
"Honestly, I thought chasing you would be more troubleso. A princess, a half-dead guard captain, and a ruined outpost. Baroque Works really overestimated you."
He flicked his finger.
A small explosion blasted the wall behind Vivi, spraying stone fragnts across the sand.
Igaram tried to shield her, but his battered body refused to move as stone chips scraped across Vivi's cheek.
Miss Valentine giggled, and then she dropped.
Fueled by the Kilo-Kilo Fruit, ten thousand kilograms pressed down from above to crush bone and stone alike.
To Vivi, watching the shadow grow larger, it felt as if the sky itself was falling.
And then—Bang!
The sound was strangely dull, like a cloth-wrapped bell being struck.
Miss Valentine's descent was interrupted.
A long scabbard had appeared between her and Vivi.
It struck Miss Valentine's shoulder with such casual precision that her terrifying montum scattered instantly.
She spun sideways through the air, crashing into a mound of sandbags and rolling twice before falling dead still.
Vivi and Igaram stared in shock while Mr. 5 froze with a finger still raised to his nose.
Standing before the princess was a black-haired young man, his Marine coat draped lazily over his shoulders.
The word "Justice" on the back was sared with travel dust, looking less like a sacred symbol and more like sothing he had forgotten to take off.
Bandages peeked through his open collar.
One hand rested near the sword at his waist, while the other still held the scabbard that had sent Miss Valentine flying.
He looked far too young to carry such oppressive pressure.
Yet the mont he appeared, the ruined outpost shifted.
The arrogant air of Baroque Works tightened around a new center—not justice, nor rcy, but pure, simple danger.
Zaraki glanced at the unconscious Miss Valentine and frowned.
"Good, you're still alive." His tone sounded less like concern and more like irritation at having to control his strength.
"I only ant to swat her away. This desert heat is ssing with my sense of force!"
"Boss," Carina called out from the top of the ruined lookout tower, "normal people don't accidentally swat soone through sandbags."
Zaraki ignored her.
Recovering from his shock, Mr. 5's sha morphed into pure fury.
"You bastard..." He dug fiercely at his nose. "You think you're strong because you ambushed Valentine? I'll blow you apart! Nose Fancy Cannon!"
The gray-black pellet shot toward Zaraki like a bullet.
For the first ti since appearing, Zaraki's expression shifted to absolute disgust.
He stared at the incoming projectile, his mouth twitching as if soone had personally insulted his soul.
"You... could you not fight in such a disgusting way?"
Shing.
The blade left its sheath in a flash so clean Vivi's eyes could barely track it.
The pellet split in midair before it could detonate. Instead of following through with the edge, Zaraki turned his wrist and slamd the back of the blade into Mr. 5's chest.
The explosive man folded around the blow, flying backward through a cracked stone pillar to land half-buried in the sand outside the gate.
The explosion he tried to trigger never ca, and his cracked sunglasses fell beside him.
Zaraki sheathed his sword. "Disgusting things should stay down."
Mr. 5 didn't move.
He was alive, but waking up before sunset was unlikely.
Vivi's fingers tightened around Igaram's sleeve.
She had seen strong warriors before—Pell and Chaka were the guardian gods of the kingdom for a reason.
But this boy ....
Before the silence could settle, two urgent cries tore through the air.
"Princess Vivi!" "Marine! Step away from the princess!"
A giant falcon descended from the sky with spread talons, while a jackal warrior charged across the sand with a curved blade.
Pell and Chaka had finally arrived—at exactly the wrong mont.
Seeing Vivi trembling, a bloodied Igaram, two downed Baroque Works agents, and a strange Marine standing in the center of it all, their conclusion was imdiate, wrong, and lethal.
Sensing the killing intent from above and the side, Zaraki tilted his head with a helpless sigh.
"So you're late to the rescue, and you can't even tell friend from foe." He thumbed his sword guard open by half an inch.
"That's a bit too incompetent, isn't it?"
Pell's claws tore down from the sky as Chaka's blade swept in from the ground.
Their coordination was flawless, utilizing speed, flight, and a Zoan's explosive charge. Against most opponents, that pincer attack would have decided everything.
But to Zaraki, their movents were painfully clear: no Haki, no refined killing intent—only loyalty, instinct, and urgency.
"Too slow."
The first strike t Pell.
Using the back of his sword, Zaraki struck the falcon's chest just before the talons reached his coat, sending the warrior flying backward into a dune with a muffled boom.
The second strike t Chaka.
The jackal's blade had only risen halfway when Zaraki's scabbard slamd into his abdon.
Chaka's eyes widened as the breath left his lungs, his body skidding across the sand to crash into a broken wall.
Zaraki rolled his wrist, looking deeply disappointed. "So these are the strongest warriors of Alabasta? Not even enough to stretch my shoulders."
Vivi's face drained of color.
Pell and Chaka were breathing, but that made the sight even more terrifying. The difference in strength was so vast that rcy itself had beco casual.
Before panic could set in, Carina leaped down from the lookout tower, a monocular telescope in hand.
She landed lightly, walking over as if she had been watching a stage play.
"My, my. Boss, I know you're strong, but did you really have to scare the poor princess like that?" She glanced at the buried guardians. "Well, everyone important is still breathing. That counts as diplomacy, right?"
"Shut up," Zaraki shot her an annoyed glare. "When those two charged in, you hid pretty fast."
Carina placed a hand dramatically over her heart. "I'm a sniper. A delicate backline profession! Obviously, I need cover."
The ridiculous exchange loosened the suffocating tension.
Vivi and Igaram found their breathing easing slightly, monsters didn't usually bicker like this, making the young Marine feel slightly more human.
Zaraki tossed an oil-paper-wrapped docunt pouch into Igaram's lap.
"Read it yourself," he said, sitting on a clean boulder. "That way you don't mistake for a pirate who robs and murders."
"That description is not as inaccurate as you think," Carina muttered.
With trembling hands, Igaram tore open the seal.
Seeing the dark-red special steel stamp of Marine Headquarters, his pupils shrank.
"A highest-level dispatch order... Heavenly Tribute Recovery Mission... Provisional Headquarters Combat Trainee Zaraki. Temporary field authority granted directly by Fleet Admiral Sengoku..."
He stopped, struggling to process the words.
The boy wasn't an Admiral or a Vice Admiral.
He wasn't even formally enlisted. Yet he held terrifying authority to intervene and investigate pirates, rebels, or governnt-affiliated forces.
Governnt-affiliated forces. For Alabasta, that ant Sir Crocodile.
Vivi looked up slowly. "You're... not an Admiral?"
"To be precise," Zaraki said, biting an unlit cigar, "I'm more like a troubleso hired blade Sengoku hasn't figured out how to throw away yet."
"Headquarters calls it special observation," Carina smiled sweetly.
"I call it unpaid labor."
Igaram clutched the dispatch order, hope and fear warring in his eyes.
At the ntion of Crocodile, the color vanished from Vivi's face again. Ignoring her scraped knees, she crawled forward, abandoning all dignity.
"Then please," she pleaded hoarsely, her voice breaking. "Please save this country. Crocodile is behind everything—the drought, the Dance Powder rumors, the conflict... all of it. He wants to steal Alabasta while pretending to be its hero."
Zaraki stared at her trembling hands and the ruined outpost around them.
If he followed his instincts, he'd walk into Rainbase and cut Crocodile down.
Warlord, hero, governnt dog—none of it mattered. But Sengoku's warnings echoed in his head: Evidence. Result. Political cover.
Cutting down a Warlord without proof ant endless paperwork, inquiries, and old n asking boring questions.
"It's useless, Princess," Carina said, her playful tone gone.
She leaned against a broken wall, her expression cold and practical. "The Seven Warlords are legal pirates. Unless there is hard evidence proving Crocodile violated the agreent, even Marine Headquarters cannot casually touch him."
"But I know it! Igaram knows it! My father knows it!"
"Witnesses are not evidence," Carina cut in. "Not when the other side is a Warlord with a heroic public image. To the World Governnt, he's a useful pirate with results, and you're a collapsing kingdom trying to explain your own disaster."
Vivi's lips parted, but no sound ca out.
The words were cruel, but they were true.
A Den Den Mushi began ringing urgently from Igaram's torn pocket.
He answered, and a panicked voice burst through the receiver over the sound of distant artillery.
"Lord Igaram! The Heavenly Tribute convoy was attacked near Broken Neck Gorge! Rebel troops are blocking the route, and Baroque Works agents are mixed among them! The royal guards are surrounded!"
"What?!" Vivi and Igaram cried out together.
"What about the tribute?!" Igaram roared.
"It's trapped in the canyon! If that money is lost, the World Governnt's sanctions will arrive tomorrow! Alabasta is finished!"
The call cut off and the ruined outpost sank back into silence.
Ahead was Crocodile, behind them was the Heavenly Tribute.
Every direction led to ruin.
"It's over..." Igaram whispered.
Then Zaraki laughed.
The low, humorless sound made Carina quietly shift half a step away.
"Interesting." Zaraki stood, brushing the sand from his coat. "If we can't cut him because there's no evidence, let's deliver him a present he can't refuse."
Vivi slowly raised her head as Zaraki looked down at them. "Since you can't protect the Heavenly Tribute anyway... why not give it to Crocodile?"
For a mont, neither understood.
Then Igaram's face contorted in horror. "Give a fortune large enough to buy half a country to the man trying to steal it?!"
Carina laughed softly. "When our boss does sothing like this, it usually ans he wants a clean reason to cut soone. Think about it. If Crocodile's people take the Heavenly Tribute with their own hands, and we catch him red-handed..."
"Then he becos the criminal," Vivi whispered, her eyes trembling.
"And the princess who accused him becos the witness who exposed him," Carina nodded.
Vivi stared at Zaraki's outstretched hand.
Calloused, rough, and steady, it belonged to a man who had already decided that if the gamble failed, he would carve a new path with his blade.
"Well?" Zaraki grinned. "Dare to bet? The stake is your country. Winner takes all."
Vivi's palm was slick with cold sweat, but her grip was iron-firm when she clasped his hand.
The hesitation in her eyes vanished entirely. "Igaram. Contact Father."
...
A few minutes later, the Den Den Mushi connected.
Vivi relayed the plan with a trembling voice. Silence stretched across the line, leaving only the crackle of static.
Zaraki didn't rush him.
He lit a cigar, watching the smoke twist in the desert wind.
He knew Cobra would agree. To a king who truly loved his people, gold could never weigh more than lives.
"Do as he says," King Cobra's exhausted, pained voice echoed. "Send the order to the front-line commander. If they cannot protect the tribute, abandon it to the desert. Withdraw every guard. Not one more life will be thrown away for gold."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Igaram bowed deeply to the Den Den Mushi, tears falling into the sand.
With that order, the trap for the sand crocodile was officially set.
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