Primitive Man

After crossing hands with the creature known as Aiven Lindsey, Crocodile understood one thing.

Was Lindsey's most troublesome aspect his combat power?

No!

Ridiculous—just a few hours ago, he had only just learned to walk.

Even with the advantage of a Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit, how much could his combat strength really be elevated?

What truly made Lindsey troublesome—even terrifying—was his astonishing learning ability!

Or rather, as a "creature"...

Evolution Speed?

Crocodile couldn't quite describe the feeling.

It was as if there was always potential to be tapped, an inability to gauge the other's limits!

"Ahahaha!"

Lindsey's laughter rang out.

Crocodile showed slight impatience, then closed his eyes to rest, all the while mulling things over in his mind.

If they were on land, with neither of them at risk of falling into the sea, and they continued the fight from earlier, what would the outcome be?

Would he, relying on his fierce offensive, crush Lindsey in one go?

Or would Lindsey's "Evolution Speed" be faster, allowing him to break through his techniques?

Either seemed possible.

But Crocodile wasn't curious about the result—after all, he was no greenhorn fresh out to sea.

A few years ago, he had fought to a draw with Douglas Bullet, the Devil's Descendant, then lost to Whitebeard, and finally accepted the World Government's invitation to become one of the Shichibukai.

That experience had made Crocodile's style of conduct increasingly cautious, always preferring to plan before acting.

And at least for now, Aiven Lindsey bore no hostility. There was no need for him to risk letting Lindsey continue to "evolve" by fighting him to the death.

So he'd just let him be!

"..."

Crocodile flipped through the sea chart, confirmed the direction ahead, and picked up an oar to start rowing.

Lindsey watched this scene with great interest, eager to try it himself.

"Tch, there's only one oar, so don't cause trouble, you primitive man!"

Crocodile certainly wasn't happy about rowing for Lindsey.

But at the same time, he didn't want Lindsey to break the oar, leaving the two Devil Fruit Users to paddle with their hands.

"Anyway, I'm heading back to 'Paradise'—that is, the first half of the Grand Line."

Crocodile explained.

But then he thought again—this primitive man in front of him probably didn't know the structure of the current world—so he casually added more.

"The sea we're in now is called the Grand Line. Specifically, we're in the 'New World,' the second half, while the first half is called 'Paradise.'"

"Aside from the Grand Line, this world is divided into four seas by the Red Line..."

"..."

And so on.

Crocodile gave Lindsey a rough introduction to this world—things like the Great Pirate Era, the Grand Line, the Red Line, the Four Seas, the Calm Belt, and so on.

Lindsey naturally knew all this, but since it was rare to have someone to talk to, he didn't mind revisiting the information.

As for Crocodile, he certainly wasn't playing the good Samaritan for no reason. These words had another purpose.

While explaining the world to Lindsey, he focused on "world geography."

Rumors at sea said that the two stretches of the "Calm Belt" flanking the Grand Line were the handiwork of an Ancient Weapon!

If Aiven Lindsey really knew about the Ancient Weapons, then he would surely react to changes in the world's geography.

Crocodile carefully observed Lindsey's expression.

When he mentioned that "the Calm Belt is the nest of Giant Sea Kings," Lindsey's head suddenly twitched.

This is it?!

Crocodile's gaze sharpened, and he was about to press further, only to find Lindsey slumped over the gunwale, snoring loudly.

Crocodile: "..."

A few veins bulged on his forehead.

Truly an infuriating personality.

If not for the faint hope that this Primitive Man's intel might still hold something, he would have tossed Lindsey straight into the sea!

Crocodile rowed the boat all night long.

By dawn, he finally spotted the towering Red Line piercing the clouds in the distance!

Skirting the edge of the Red Line, after rowing a bit further, a massive port came into view.

This port was established by the World Government, serving as the official passage connecting the first and second halves of the Grand Line.

Thus, it was used solely for transit, not developed into a port town.

Crocodile gazed at the dock and let out a gloomy sigh.

"Finally here."

"Hard work."

"Not... at all..."

Realizing that Lindsey, who had slept through the night, was finally awake, Crocodile's eye twitched as he suppressed his irritation.

After all, this was World Government territory. Though his status as a Shichibukai was legitimate, keeping a low profile couldn't hurt.

At the dock.

The two disembarked from the small boat one after another.

Then, Crocodile directly activated his ability, turning the boat to sand and sinking it completely into the sea, leaving as few traces as possible.

"Learn from this!"

Seeing Lindsey's slightly puzzled look, Crocodile's annoyance was somewhat diluted.

Since they needed to switch boats anyway, leaving the old one behind only added unnecessary risk.

But Crocodile couldn't be bothered to explain to Lindsey, so he just brushed it off:

"Figure it out yourself."

"Alright, I get it!"

Lindsey nodded, looking thoughtful.

Crocodile's eye twitched again as he slowly said:

"To travel between the first and second halves of the Grand Line, there are generally only two ways."

"Either switch ships and take the official route over the Red Line, or risk the seafloor below."

Crocodile lit a cigar for himself.

"The official route on the Red Line doesn't just connect the Grand Line; it also leads to the other Four Seas."

"But if you're an illegal pirate, your options are few."

"So for pirates, once they set foot on the Grand Line, in a sense, it's hard to turn back with dignity."

"Either disguise yourself as a refugee, abandon your weapons and flee, or get captured by the Marines."

Pausing, Crocodile suddenly added:

"Of course, you could also choose suicide by crossing the Calm Belt."

He still hoped to glean something from Lindsey, but it was futile once again.

Information about the Ancient Weapon was indeed something that could only be encountered by chance, not sought. He could only make the best use of the intel he had now and take things one step at a time.

"..."

Watching Lindsey, who seemed intent on thoroughly exploring the port, Crocodile rubbed his brow.

"Hurry up. The World Government is strict here. Everyone's just passing through, and even the merchant convoys don't dare linger."

"If you want some fun, wait until we cross the Red Line and head to Sabaody Archipelago."

Sabaody Archipelago.

Hearing that familiar name, Lindsey's mood lifted considerably.

Punk Hazard and the Red Line port both felt lifeless and oppressive. It was places like Sabaody, a tourist island, that were truly worth looking forward to!

The two followed the crowd, advancing steadily.

The status of a Shichibukai was indeed special.

They were great pirates that even the World Government found troublesome, and no one wanted to provoke them, so they got a green light all the way, unimpeded.

Soon, the two had boarded the special passage on the Red Line, covering most of the distance.

Lindsey quietly observed the journey.

Many merchant convoys were waiting in line, undergoing routine inspections by World Government officials to prevent pirates or contraband from slipping through.

As they walked, a peculiar "caravan" caught Lindsey's attention.

It was a caravan, yes, but its wagons weren't loaded with "goods"—they carried a group of "humans" bound in chains and shackles!

Lindsey knew at once: those were slave traders—

"Legal" slave traders!

Crocodile noticed Lindsey's gaze and gave a faint smile as he took a drag on his cigar.

"Heh heh heh heh. Let me enlighten you, Primitive Man."

"In this day and age, 'people' can become 'slaves,' and 'slaves' are a type of 'legal goods.'"

"..."

Crocodile treated it as utterly ordinary.

He cared nothing for the so-called slave trade; that sort of business only generated profit in terms of money, but what Crocodile truly craved was "Military Strength"!

Lindsey gave a slight nod.

As the two drew closer, the noise from that slave caravan drifted over.

It seemed the slave traders had grown bored from waiting too long and had started taking out their frustrations on the cheapest slaves.

Crack! Crack!

The whip lashed repeatedly across a young slave's body, leaving bloody welts.

The young man knelt and begged the merchant for mercy, only to be met with the slave traders' jeers.

"..."

Lindsey watched the scene in silence, his gaze shifting to the others around him.

The remaining slaves looked on numbly, some even feeling relieved that they hadn't been singled out for venting.

As for the other ordinary travelers passing by—

Some treated it as commonplace, others watched with mild interest to kill the time.

Laughter and wailing mingled together, churned by numb gazes into a muddy slop.

"...Hey!"

Lindsey suddenly grinned.

"Little Crocodile, look at them."

He patted Crocodile on the shoulder, pointing at the slave traders nearby and the crowd around them, and laughed:

"And here I thought I was already primitive enough..."