In the old era, overthrowing a tyrant meant getting enough to eat.
But in the current Alabasta, overthrowing a ruler who had governed the nation into something like paradise carried an extremely high chance of getting beaten to death—and even if they really succeeded, life would not necessarily become better than it was now.
Since life would not get better, risking their heads to rebel had not the slightest meaning.
Of course, in a big forest, every kind of bird could be found.
Alabasta had a population of tens of millions, so there would always be a group of opportunists.
Like flies drawn by the smell of blood, these people chose to follow Crocodile, arrogantly raising the banner of rebellion that symbolized reclaiming legitimacy.
What felt extremely strange was the government's response.
Logically speaking, when facing rebels who openly questioned royal authority like this, Vivi absolutely had both the right and even the ability to send the royal guards to crush them into paste on the very first day they showed themselves.
However, the Alabasta of this moment truly was just as it had long advertised and proclaimed to the outside world: it supported legal principles and freedom of speech.
And Crocodile truly exploited this loophole. From beginning to end, they never took any substantive violent actions such as smashing, looting, or burning. They merely kept submitting documents to city halls in various places, applying to hold legal marches.
Since it was a civil struggle, naturally there were no legal grounds for armed suppression.
Even more unexpected was that the city hall of Nanohana Port, as well as the local governments stationed in several other major cities, did not reject Crocodile's applications to march at all.
Every time they applied, city hall stamped its approval.
Not only did they approve