"I've already been punished, you know?"
Robin pointed at the explosive collar on her neck and gently tugged open her shirt collar, revealing her soft, ample curves beneath.
The meaning was clear.
Of course, that was only the surface excuse.
There was no better justification than being the boss's woman.
Whether anyone believed it or not—well, that depended on whether they wanted to test Ren's fists.
"Hmph!"
Mikita turned away in disgust, crossing her arms.
"All right, that's enough."
Ren waved impatiently, motioning for Robin to hand out a stack of documents to everyone present.
Dense names and profiles filled the pages.
"This time, we're going after Crocodile. Our company's informants have discovered that this so-called desert king isn't as glorious as he appears.
Behind the scenes, he's been involved in a number of shady dealings and underground operations. These files detail his network of influence.
Your mission is to eliminate these contacts—clip Crocodile's wings.
After destroying their operations, don't forget to bring the money back.
Once that's done, we'll begin preparations to deal with Crocodile himself.
That man is now the biggest obstacle on Baroque Works' path to success!"
Ren spoke smoothly, eyes calm—spinning lies with practiced ease.
In truth, every one of those listed organizations already belonged to Baroque Works.
Its intelligence, infiltration, and propaganda networks were all carefully built and maintained.
And thanks to Robin's handiwork, most operatives didn't even realize they were working for Baroque Works.
They thought they served various different groups.
Some were even double agents, reporting to two "factions"—both of which ultimately traced back to the same source: Baroque Works itself.
Conveniently, only Robin knew this intricate web's true structure.
So Ren decided to use the senior agents as knives—turning them against their own network.
After all, business was about integrity.
Since Ren had agreed to Alabasta's terms, he wouldn't just take out Crocodile alone.
Some personnel the agents weren't suited to handle would instead be turned over to the Alabasta royal family through Pell.
But that was for later.
As for having these senior agents confront Crocodile directly—Ren never thought they'd be of any real use.
They were, in the purest sense, cannon fodder. And not even plentiful cannon fodder.
Might as well make use of the trash.
Pages rustled softly as Robin explained the details.
A vast purge plan gradually unfolded, making everyone understand their assignments.
"Do it cleanly, like before. Don't disappoint me."
"Dismissed."
With a curt wave, Ren ended the meeting. The agents bowed and exited one by one—leaving only Zoro, Nojiko, and Nami behind.
"This time, you three won't be involved. Just handle what's within your capability. The documents in your hands are your tasks."
Ren's tone left no room for argument.
"That Crocodile guy… is he really that strong?"
Zoro frowned, sitting upright as he glanced through his file.
It was a list of high-risk assassination and cleanup targets.
But their true enemy was Crocodile himself.
"I'm strong now too! And so is my sister!" Nami protested.
"Yeah," Nojiko added in support.
"There's no need. The main force for this battle isn't us. It's not worth the risk."
Ren shook his head firmly.
At this point, Zoro, Nami, and Nojiko still weren't strong enough.
Even after enhancements, one hundred million Beli was about their ceiling.
Crocodile, however, was a different story entirely—his power fluctuated too widely to predict.
Ren even suspected Crocodile might have awakened his Logia powers.
He hadn't confirmed it only because Luffy had managed to beat him in canon.
But judging from the Marineford War, Crocodile's strength was monstrous.
Not just anyone could clash with Akainu or Mihawk and walk away alive.
Ren wasn't about to test Crocodile's depth with his comrades' lives.
He couldn't afford such a loss.
It was better to wait for that Revolutionary Army commander—the Crow—to arrive.
"I understand."
Zoro rose and left without another word.
A captain's order was absolute.
Even if he didn't understand Ren's caution or thought his strength was underestimated, Zoro wouldn't question him.
He'd simply train harder—until Ren would never need to make that choice again.
Seeing that, Nami and Nojiko followed quietly to prepare.
Baroque Works was a massive organization; even dismantling its mid-tiers would take enormous effort.
Let's begin. Operation: Crocodile.
Ren picked up the Den Den Mushi on his desk, ready to call the Revolutionary Army for updates.
Just then—
Outside the room, Nami murmured to Nojiko as they walked away, her tone casual.
"For some reason, there's a lot less moisture in the air than expected.
Maybe it's the desert climate, but I double-checked the values this time. Something's off.
Sis, come with me outside later, okay? I want to check it out again.
I can't believe the readings are wrong—I ran all the pre-calculations perfectly."
"We're supposed to be on mission, you know."
"There are plenty of targets. It can wait."
Their voices faded down the corridor.
Inside the meeting hall, Ren froze mid-dial, frowning as he looked out the window.
He trusted Nami's instincts—"the Weather Witch" wasn't a title given lightly.
And he knew how seriously she took her experiments.
Last night, she'd fallen asleep face-down on his bed, insisting she'd perfected her pre-value predictions.
She'd promised no more mistakes.
Which meant—
If her forecast didn't match reality, something truly abnormal was happening.
Ren's frown deepened.
—In a shadowed alley—
One… two… three… four. Why are all my senior agents gathering together?
Crocodile's cold eyes followed the departing agents from afar, counting them one by one as they exited the tower.
Nearly every senior agent was present.
That shouldn't be possible.
According to Robin's reports, Mr. 1 was still recovering, and the rest were busy elsewhere.
Crocodile had delegated authority, yes—but he wasn't blind.
Instantly, he realized something was wrong within Baroque Works.
No need for calls or words—only the whispering swirl of sand in the wind.
"One, two, step! One, two, step!"
Bon Clay twirled happily down an alley, humming—when a sudden gust of sand blinded him.
He waved his hands to clear it, but before he could react, the grains gathered into a humanoid shape.
A massive hand shot out and seized him by the throat.
A man in a dark fur coat with a scarred face emerged from the storm, eyes glinting coldly—
Crocodile.
"Y-You—!"
Bon Clay gasped, terror twisting his features as wrinkles rapidly formed across his once-beautiful face.
His body shriveled, shrinking as every drop of moisture was stolen away.
The strength drained from him faster than he could fight back.
"Bon Clay, isn't it?" Crocodile's voice was calm and deadly. "My Desert Prison can drain you dry in an instant—turning you into a husk.
So think carefully before you speak. Then tell me—what happened in that tower?"
His grip tightened, expression indifferent—as if strangling a chicken.
And truth be told, that wasn't far from reality.
When he loosened his hold slightly, Bon Clay gasped for breath and burst into manic laughter.
"So you noticed after all! Heh-heh-heh! The boss was right—you really are the greatest obstacle to Baroque Works' success!"
"...What?"
Crocodile froze, scarred face twisting in disbelief.
I, Crocodile—Robin's superior, the mastermind of Baroque Works—
Now the biggest obstacle to Baroque Works' success?
What kind of joke was this!?
"Damn it... what the hell happened!?"
In the next instant, Bon Clay wrenched his arms free and shouted:
"You think you can break my spirit that easily? Human-Monster Fist—Swan That Never Bows!"
He twisted, kicked off the ground—
"Human-Monster Fist—Memoirs of That Summer!"
His heel smashed into Crocodile's chest—
And sank straight through him.
The "body" exploded into swirling sand.
Not flesh. Not human.
A shell of dust.
"Pathetic. But I've learned what I needed."
Crocodile's face was stone cold as the sand engulfed Bon Clay.
When it dispersed, only a shriveled corpse remained.
He brushed the remains aside and strode toward the tower, fury boiling beneath his skin.
Rage. Humiliation.
He had never expected Nico Robin to betray him—though he'd always known betrayal was her way of survival.
Still, he'd believed he could keep her leashed.
After all, he had saved her from the World Government's pursuit. She should have been grateful.
But betrayal—using his own organization to do it?
He'd built Baroque Works with his own hands, and now it had a new boss.
A boss who wasn't him!
"What the hell, Nico Robin! How dare you!"
Grinding his teeth, Crocodile glared up at the tower.
Robin was a clever woman—that was why he'd tolerated her.
But now that she'd made her move, he wouldn't remain naive.
She was an expert in betrayal, which meant she must've found someone—or something—strong enough to stand against him.
Perhaps… the strange rain in Nanohana days ago had been caused by supernatural power!
Robin's caution was legendary—she'd vanish the moment she sensed danger.
But Crocodile couldn't give her that chance.
She was the only one alive who could read the ancient text.
He couldn't afford to lose her.
The best move now was to strike before she realized he'd caught on—to storm that tower and end this treachery once and for all.
The senior agents wouldn't gather for no reason. The "boss" must be there.
And if the boss was present, Nico Robin would be too.
Then I'll show you, Robin—who the real predator is!
Sand rose around Crocodile, sweeping through the streets.
"Crocodile!?"
"The Desert King!"
"Is there a pirate here!?"
The citizens of Nanohana pointed and cheered, thrilled by the sight of their supposed hero cloaked in storm.
"Lord Crocodile! Please destroy those vile pirates!"
"Long live the Desert King!"
"Crush the scum!"
Crocodile's expression twisted in disgust. "Fools. I fight only for myself."
Suppressing the urge to annihilate them, he raised his hand—and unleashed a long-gathered Sandstorm.
The whirling desert winds devoured the air, swelling from a breeze into a cyclone that bridged earth and sky.
Moisture fled the air.
The colossal storm roared down the main street, carving a straight path that enveloped the entire tower.
Countless grains of sand spun like blades, shredding anything that dared enter or leave.
Only one stream of living sand glided freely through the vortex—Crocodile himself.
Inside the tower, he found Robin standing there, collar still around her neck. For a moment, even he hesitated.
At that exact instant—
Ren completed his transformation inside the hall: First Calabash Brother + Fire Calabash Template!
[Strength: C+] [Agility: C] [Endurance: C]
The Mana Crystal in his hand crumbled into dust.
In the blink of an eye, he activated Thunderstorm, Armor of Glory, Thunder's Protection, and finally—Electrocution!
A glowing sigil burst beneath his feet; a lightning emblem appeared above Crocodile's head.
And then—
From darkness was born radiant light.
Qi and magic intertwined.
The four-winged angel appeared once more—his crystalline armor expanding, muscles fused with glimmering facets of light until he stood as a 3.8-meter-tall armored titan.
"Was it luck," Ren's thunderous voice boomed, "or something else?"
He stared at the scowling Crocodile, whose eyes never left Robin.
"If you return now," Crocodile said coldly, "I'll still forgive you."
"…"
Robin said nothing. She simply stepped back toward Ren—her decision made.
It was like a scene from a lover's confrontation.
The betrayed man demanded a choice—and the woman stepped toward her new one.
An imperfect comparison, perhaps.
But the result was the same.
(End of Chapter)