Things Went Smoothly

As early as when they'd left Punk Hazard, Crocodile had casually tossed a few pieces of clothing to Lindsey aboard the ship.

Crocodile had pretty good taste in clothes.

A long coat, lined with a casual suit.

Lindsey's body was already close to "perfect."

That didn't just refer to his face. The proportions of his body and the definition of his muscles were both the most perfect works of the ancients.

Even a modern sculptor would probably need years, perhaps even decades, to recreate Lindsey perfectly.

A physique like that was naturally eye-catching and popular.

It was simply the yearning of life for "beauty," and there was nothing wrong with that.

That was also why the dancing girls were especially enthusiastic toward Lindsey.

They welcomed the tall, perfectly built young man, eager to drink with him. That was much better than serving those stinking pirates.

But just as everyone was about to enter the tavern, a mustachioed man with two burly bodyguards called out to Lindsey.

"Nice build, young man!"

"Looks like you work out. Interested in making a fortune?"

"..."

Those two short lines practically had the words "up to no good" written all over them.

But Lindsey had such an innocent look that Mustache mistook him for a greenhorn who'd only just gone to sea—and an especially easy one to fool, at that.

So Mustache immediately added:

"Young man, you've come all the way to Sabaody Archipelago. Don't you want to make a name for yourself and earn a fortune here before entering the New World?"

"I've got a great opportunity for you!"

Mustache abruptly raised a hand. The two bodyguards behind him promptly produced a pair of briefcases.

Click!

The cases opened, revealing piles of Berries.

"I'm the owner of an Arena. I specialize in organizing all kinds of matches."

"You look like you can really fight, young man. How about giving it a try?"

Mustache waved his hand broadly and grinned. "You'll get a million Berries just for showing up, five million if you make it through the match, and a grand prize of ten million if you win!"

"And that's just for one match!"

His pitch was incredibly smooth. He'd clearly repeated it countless times.

"..."

Lindsey sized Mustache up, then looked in the direction he'd come from.

Sure enough, Mustache had come from the Illegal Zone.

Lindsey knew exactly what the Arenas in the Illegal Zone were like.

Those so-called matches and huge prizes were most likely just a way to trick people into going to their deaths.

As he considered this, a hand suddenly grabbed Lindsey.

It belonged to a brown-haired dancing girl. She tugged on his hand and frantically signaled with her eyes, hoping he wouldn't go with Mustache.

Having worked on the edge of the Illegal Zone for a long time, the dancing girls knew exactly what kind of man Mustache was.

They'd rarely met a young man as easy on the eyes as Lindsey, and they didn't want to watch him get tricked into dying.

"Wait..."

The brown-haired dancer started to speak.

But before she could get a word out, one of the burly bodyguards behind Mustache stepped forward and grabbed her by the head.

"Hey."

The bodyguard's face darkened as he threatened her. "Girl, you know what'll happen if you get in our way, right?"

His grip tightened around the dancer's head. He was about to crush the meddlesome woman to death.

At the same time, however, a far larger figure suddenly appeared behind him.

A massive hand with red skin seized the bodyguard's head, almost exactly mirroring his grip on the dancer.

The difference was that this hand squeezed much harder.

"Hurts, hurts, hurts..."

The bodyguard felt as if his skull were about to be crushed. He struggled instinctively, releasing the dancer.

With his head held fast, he couldn't see what was behind him. He only felt a terrible dread, as if something had awakened the primal fear buried in his body.

He glanced to the side and saw Mustache and the other bodyguard staring wide-eyed, trembling at the sight of something.

"What... is it?"

That was the last thing the bodyguard said.

Then he felt the soil beneath his feet begin to churn like a thick, soupy whirlpool, locking his body in place.

Next, he felt himself sinking. Agonizing pain surged up from below and spread through his whole body.

Thud!

Earth Demon Form.

The demonized Lindsey grabbed the bodyguard's head with one hand and slammed his whole body into the ground, leaving only his rolled-back eyes and head above the surface. It was impossible to tell if he was still alive.

Under Lindsey's control, the Earth and Stone twisted into a whirlpool, trapping the bodyguard underground!

"Eek!"

The bizarre, terrifying sight made the dancing girls scream and left Mustache and the other bodyguard frozen with shock.

The two men realized all too clearly that they'd picked a fight with someone they shouldn't have.

Mustache had spent years in the underworld and knew how to adapt. He immediately bowed in apology.

"Sorry to bother you, sir!"

"Please, keep enjoying your drink. I'll get out of your way right now!"

With that, Mustache took advantage of the moment before Lindsey could respond and turned to run.

But halfway there, Lindsey grabbed him by the head too. Mustache broke into a cold sweat.

"Sir..."

"Don't rush off!"

With two dark green horns jutting from his head, Lindsey's crimson gaze roamed back and forth.

He looked at the enthusiastic dancing girls, then at Mustache and the burly bodyguard, who were dressed to look vicious.

He grinned.

"I think you guys might be more interesting..."

Crocodile felt that things were finally going smoothly.

He'd successfully settled Aiven Lindsey in, and he'd successfully found the underworld black-market merchant he was supposed to meet.

As one of the Shichibukai, with the "legal right to plunder," Crocodile certainly had no shortage of sources of funding.

The problem was that he needed to use the money in Alabasta.

The king of that superpower, Nefertari Cobra, was a very upright and meticulous man.

With so many ministers assisting him, any attempt to funnel a large amount of plundered money into Alabasta would inevitably be noticed.

So the first thing Crocodile had to do was make his money "legitimate."

He'd already had someone in the Illegal Zone of Sabaody Archipelago arrange it.

Sabaody Archipelago, Island 13.

No-Rules Arena.

This was a place where nobles and the upper class went to enjoy themselves.

Slaves and beasts were locked up together, then thrown into the Colosseum to fight each other to the death.

The nobles used the outcome of these fights to gamble and amuse themselves.

At that moment, Crocodile had already met with the Arena Boss in the Arena's broadcast booth.

Crocodile planned to use the Arena's "gambling" system to launder all the money he'd plundered through the nobles' transactions.

After that, he'd buy some goods and quietly funnel the vast sum into Alabasta!

"Gambling...?"

Crocodile smiled darkly.

He was very good at handling this sort of thing.

In fact, in the not-too-distant future, he'd even build an enormous casino in Alabasta!

But for now, the first thing Crocodile had to make sure of was that this gambling operation went smoothly.

"Hey."

Crocodile turned to look at the Arena Boss and asked in a low voice, "Have you got your people in place? The result of this match is certain, right?"

"Hehehehe, don't worry, Sand Crocodile."

The Arena Boss was a short, skinny man who looked like a monkey. He let out a shrill laugh. "Nobody can beat our Final Fighter. Our deal is sure to go smoothly!"

"And now, hehehehe..."

"Sand Crocodile, let's enjoy the opening act together!"

"..."

Crocodile said nothing. He only looked at the broadcast screen, seeming barely interested.

The so-called opening act was just bringing in a ferocious beast, then finding a few unlucky slaves or greenhorns and letting the beast tear them to pieces.

Crocodile didn't care about that kind of thing. He just found it tedious.

I'll wait for the match to end, then take Aiven Lindsey back to Alabasta.

Speaking of which, what's that Primitive Man doing now?

Heh. Maybe he's already dead drunk!

With a cigar between his teeth, Crocodile casually glanced at the screen.

Then, among the unlucky slave contestants, he spotted a familiar face—

Smiling brightly, sunny, and pure.

It was Aiven Lindsey!

Crocodile's expression instantly turned strange. He rubbed his temples hard, baring his teeth in a grimace.

"I knew it. Nothing ever goes smoothly!"