The Legendary Bad Guy

The police officers around them completely cleared the main road, giving the helicopter a temporary landing spot.

An armored aircraft painted with this country's military insignia descended rapidly amid a thunderous roar. The moment its cabin door opened, a burly man dressed in a strange orange-yellow outfit came into view first.

The prisoner's hands were still in handcuffs, and two soldiers flanked him from behind.

"Get down! Move it!" the soldiers shouted.

The prisoner looked around at the scenery, took a deep breath, and walked down under the soldiers' urging. There was already another man in prison clothes waiting ahead.

He knew that this man, who had arrived a step earlier, was called Moria. Like him, Moria had once been a senior member of the former Imperial Capital Command, but later struck out on his own and carved out territory in one district. However, he had been captured during the UPP crackdown several years ago.

"Haha, Crocodile, old friend! We meet again!"

Moria was the kind of person who loved to laugh. His lips were darker than most people's, an unhealthy blackish purple, and he had two dark circles under his eyes.

"So you haven't died yet." Crocodile raised an eyebrow, clearly showing none of the excitement of seeing an old friend.

Moria did not care much. He merely looked at Crocodile curiously—the moment this man had appeared, he had already had a cigar clenched between his teeth.

After all, they were old friends of many years. Crocodile shrugged and said, "I asked them for it. If they didn't give it to me, I wouldn't come. When they got rough, I bit my own tongue. They had no choice but to fulfill my request."

Moria instinctively glanced at the escorting soldiers behind Crocodile and, sure enough, saw the rage on