The next day.
As the World Economic News Agency's newspapers were released, along with Big News Morgan's News Birds, a report titled "Hell Claws Suppress Red Count" swiftly spread across the world.
Grand Line—Paradise.
Whiskey Peak. Crocodile, who had just been driven back from the Grand Line, was regrouping here. Baroque Works had also just been established.
On the top floor of a bar, Crocodile stared at the newspaper still smelling of fresh ink in his hand, and a hint of wariness flashed through his eyes.
Red Count had been captured again, and by previously unknown Impel Down guards, no less.
Crocodile clenched his cigar between his teeth, puffing out smoke as his expression shifted while he pondered.
Then he pulled open a drawer and took out an ancient ship's log. On page thirty-seven was a description of an ancient legend.
He had found this log last year on a Winter Island while returning to Paradise after defeating a great pirate.
At first, Crocodile had not believed such an ancient legend. It was only after he discovered some clues near Alabasta that he realized the so-called ancient legend was actually real.
For the sake of his ambitions and dream of ruling the world, Crocodile grew ever more covetous of the legendary Nation-Destroying Battleship—Pluton.
On another street in Whiskey Town, two people wearing strange masks were likewise browsing through today's newspapers in a hotel room.
"Red Count was actually captured?" The person wearing a One-Eye Mask sounded somewhat surprised.
The other person, wearing a half mask, Picked Up an espresso and took a sip. "Do you think that Crocodile has taken the bait?"
"Fifty-fifty."
"Uncertain matters like this are such a pain." The half mask spoke helplessly.
The One-Eye Mask, however, appeared entirely calm. "Don't worry. The Seven Warlords Plan beginning