Nefertari Cobra knew this man all too well.
He was one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, a figure who constantly put him on edge, the infamous Sand Crocodile, Crocodile.
To the people, he was the current hero of Alabasta.
Since arriving in the kingdom, Crocodile had built an organization known as Baroque Works.
Even Cobra only knew fragments about it.
Using its strength, Crocodile constantly suppressed pirate activity within Alabasta, earning praise from both the World Government and the Marines.
Among the Warlords, he was seen as the one most aligned with authority.
At the same time, the citizens trusted him deeply.
So deeply that even his unannounced entry into the royal palace would not spark outrage.
In some cases, their admiration for him even rivaled that of their own king.
“Cobra, it has been a while.”
Crocodile took a slow drag from his cigar, then exhaled, the smoke curling lazily into the air.
“It has,” Cobra replied, his tone measured.
He subtly moved Nefertari Vivi behind him and signaled to Igaram.
Igaram hesitated briefly, then nodded and led Vivi away, despite her reluctance.
Neither of them showed panic.
Crocodile would not act recklessly here.
Not under the eyes of the Marines, especially with Vice Admiral Momonga still stationed in Alabasta.
As expected, Crocodile had no intention of causing trouble.
He simply introduced a new subordinate.
The man stepped forward with an exaggerated flourish.
He wore a flamboyant ballet outfit, complete with dramatic makeup.
Despite the feminine style, he was unmistakably male.
“Your Majesty, my name is Bon Clay.”
Bentham smiled brightly and extended his hand.
Cobra suppressed his discomfort and accepted the handshake.
Crocodile watched with a faint, knowing smile.
“I have other matters to attend to,” Cobra said shortly after.
“If you wish to tour the palace, arrangements can be made.”
He remained wary, but there had never been open conflict between them.
Crocodile had contributed greatly to Alabasta, and he had even been granted the privilege of entering the palace freely after receiving the National Hero Medal the previous year.
As Cobra left, Crocodile inhaled deeply, savoring the air.
A low chuckle escaped him.
At that moment, the doors opened again.
Crocodile turned his head.
A tall figure stood there, cloaked and concealed.
Behind him was Pell, one of Alabasta’s strongest warriors.
“Pell,” Crocodile said with interest, “have you ever considered working for me?”
Before entering, Nair had already sensed Crocodile’s presence.
That was why he had disguised himself, using the power of the Hie Hie no Mi to replicate the physique of Kuzan.
His goal was simple.
A cold glint flashed in his eyes.
“Crocodile, do you really think your schemes are still hidden?
His Highness has already exposed everything!”
Pell drew his sword instantly, stepping in front of Nair.
Beside Crocodile, Daz Bonez transformed his arm into a blade, preparing for combat.
Nair said nothing.
This was his first time facing this man, the mastermind of early Grand Line events.
A few hours ago, he would have hesitated.
Now, there was no reason to retreat.
“That brat?” Crocodile’s eyes sharpened slightly.
“So even a child could see through them.
Useless fools.”
His gaze shifted.
“You did not tell Cobra anything, did you?”
He had come not only to introduce Bon Clay, but to confirm whether Nair had revealed anything while the Marines were present.
Even without evidence, any loose words could become troublesome.
Before Pell could respond, Crocodile moved.
A sandstorm erupted instantly, aimed to strike without warning.
A low hum spread through the air.
A sudden, biting cold burst outward from Nair.
His cloak fluttered violently.
Crocodile’s pupils contracted.
Without hesitation, he leaped back, his instincts warning him of danger.
An intense chill surged from Nair’s body.
The ground froze instantly.
In a single moment, the palace floor was encased in ice.
Members of Baroque Works were trapped where they stood, frozen solid into ice sculptures.
Daz Bonez resisted slightly longer.
He raised his blade arm, shock flashing across his face, but it made no difference.
The ice consumed him completely.
Silence fell over the hall, now locked in frost.