You're MR.0? Then who am I?

Alabasta, Elma.

This city, which had still been filled with cries of misery due to the drought more than half a month ago, had now taken on an entirely new look.

The land that had once cracked beneath the drought had now healed its wounds.

Along both sides of the streets, the vendors had set up their stalls once more.

Although the City of Oasis was still far from recovering its former prosperity, it had clearly begun to fill with hope.

And the reason needed no explanation—every citizen of Elma knew it.

It was all thanks to the rain brought by that "Rain Summoner" that Elma had managed to pull through.

On the outskirts west of Elma stood a cafe.

Its simple wooden sign read "Spider Cafe," and it was located in a deserted area on the western outskirts of Elma.

It looked completely ordinary.

But at that moment.

A figure was walking toward the cafe.

He wore a sand-colored travel robe and had just lowered his hood.

Beneath the hood, the man had slicked-back hair, a long scar across his face, and a cigar clenched between his teeth.

But what shocked people most was his left hand.

His left hand was not made of flesh and blood. It was a massive golden hook that gleamed with a cold metallic luster.

At that moment, his eyes were fixed on the hopeful atmosphere within the city, his expression indifferent.

He did not like the atmosphere of this city.

It was not that he bore any ill will toward the citizens. It was simply that the hopeful atmosphere here represented an obstacle to his plans.

And the Shichibukai, the "Sand Crocodile" Crocodile, thoroughly hated any obstacle that stood in his way.

Still, it did not matter.

"Whoosh."

He removed the cigar from his mouth and exhaled a puff of smoke.

According to the information he had received, that "obstacle" had already been eliminated.

He muttered under his breath.

"I only hope the clue Nico Robin found is truly valuable enough."

That was precisely why he had appeared here.

Not long ago, he had ordered the officers of Baroque Works to kill the "Rain Summoner" hiding in the royal palace, the one capable of bringing rain.

Then, the day before yesterday, he had received Nico Robin's report.

"The target has been successfully killed."

The news did not surprise Crocodile.

The officers of Baroque Works were all battle-hardened Ability Users. It was hardly unusual for them to attack one person together and kill him.

Besides, the other party's ability seemed to be "controlling rainfall"—not a combat-oriented ability.

What surprised Crocodile was the additional piece of information Nico Robin had included with her letter.

"Within the royal palace, I happened to discover an important clue concerning Pluton."

That news was what had prompted Crocodile to return to Alabasta ahead of schedule.

And now, Crocodile walked into the cafe.

"Jingle!"

The wind chime hanging from the doorframe rang out with a crisp "jingle."

Then Crocodile's footsteps halted.

Because right in front of him.

Two figures were sitting at the counter inside the cafe.

One of them was very familiar to him—a beautiful woman with a graceful figure and lovely features. It was none other than Nico Robin.

But the other one.

"The Rain Summoner."

Looking at the Dragon Head Mask recorded in the intelligence reports, Crocodile exhaled another puff of smoke.

A man as shrewd as him realized the situation almost instantly.

The "Rain Summoner," who should have been dead according to Nico Robin's report, had appeared here, while Nico Robin was clearly standing on his side.

The other officers were nowhere to be seen.

The meaning was self-evident.

"You betrayed Baroque Works and lured me here?"

He exhaled a puff of smoke and looked at Nico Robin, his tone utterly calm.

"No wonder you're a woman who survived by constantly betraying others—Nico Robin."

Faced with his words, Nico Robin looked somewhat tense.

But before she could speak, Crocodile heard the voice of the person beside her.

"It's rude to speak to a lady that way, Mr. Sand Crocodile."

Dragon of the Dawn chuckled. "Besides. Betrayed Baroque Works? Where does that come from?"

He stood up and looked at the famous great pirate before him, then pointed at himself.

Then, word by word, he quietly stated the "truth."

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm 'Dragon of the Dawn,' this lady's partner, the president and leader of Baroque Works. Or you can call me—MR.0."

Even Crocodile was stunned for a moment by what he said.

He found it absurd.

You're MR.0? Then who am I?

"I see."

But in the blink of an eye, he understood.

As the man who had founded Baroque Works from the ground up, he naturally knew the organization's characteristics.

Within Baroque Works, every member used a codename.

From MR.1 to MR.12, and even the lower-ranking members, the "Millionaires" and "Billionaires," it was all the same.

And the most mysterious of them all was MR.0—himself.

No one in all of Baroque Works had ever seen his true face.

Almost all of his orders were conveyed by his partner, "Miss All Sunday," Nico Robin.

The reason was simple.

He was a Shichibukai chosen by the World Government, so he could not openly lead a criminal organization.

In other words.

To every member of Baroque Works, as long as Nico Robin acknowledged someone as MR.0.

Then that person was unquestionably MR.0.

Just as was happening now.

"Dragon of the Dawn."

Crocodile spoke thoughtfully.

"And you, Nico Robin. Not only did you betray me, you even intend to join forces with someone else to seize the foundation that belongs to me?"

After figuring out the purpose of Dragon of the Dawn and Nico Robin, Crocodile suddenly laughed.

"Not a bad plan."

He did not hold back his praise.

But there was no amusement in that smile. Instead.

"However, it seems you've misunderstood one thing."

There was only icy coldness.

"Buzz!"

As his anger rose, the floor beneath his feet silently shattered and transformed into fine sand.

Countless grains of sand swirled around him like the most loyal of guards.

He raised his left hand, the massive golden hook gleaming with a cold light.

"What do you think Baroque Works was founded on? Why do you think it was able to establish itself on this sea and develop to its current state?"

He raised his right hand, took the spent cigar from his mouth, and casually tossed it onto the floor.

"It is because of me that it is Baroque Works!"

"It is because of... my power!"

The cigar was instantly swallowed by the sand, vanishing without a trace as if it had fallen into an abyss.

Then.

"Boom!"

The abyss-like sand began erupting outward in a vast, overwhelming wave.

Everything began to be devoured by the yellow sand.

Crocodile's figure melted into the sand as well.

Only his voice echoed repeatedly through the grains.

"On this sea, the only thing that truly decides everything is power!"

A note here about the location of Spider Cafe.

I found out through DS that it was in Rainbase, but I remembered it being in Elma, and Baidu Baike also lists it as being in Elma.

Of course, I might have remembered incorrectly. But this does not affect the plot itself; I'm only explaining it specifically to prevent readers from getting hung up on it.

Finally, a word about Sky Island. Since so many readers have brought it up, I'll give you all a bit of a spoiler in advance.

We will definitely be going to Sky Island, and it will happen after roughly the next two plot arcs.

But as you can imagine, since the author arranged for such a cheat-like ability, he naturally already has a way to deal with Sky Island's gold.

I can't reveal the specifics, but I can tell everyone that the Sky Island arc should be different from what you expect, and it will be directly connected to the final ending of this book. (Yes, the broad outline of this book has actually already been planned through to the ending, so I don't think I'll write myself into a corner.)

Actually, as an author, I shouldn't reveal these things in advance. But since you gentlemen kept asking, I decided to give you a small spoiler.

Finally, please support the book with follows and monthly votes. And go a little easier on the author—the poor kid has been suffering terribly from writer's block lately.