This camp had been built around a depression, its pit filled with all kinds of digging tools and mine carts for hauling away dirt and sand. Judging by how fiercely they had resisted just now, Baroque Works had relied entirely on its own people for the excavation—they had not even captured a single slave.
So the question was...
"What exactly are they digging for?"
Standing at the center of the pit, Traine used his scabbard to scoop up a handful of dirt and watched as the night wind scattered it.
"Who knows? We might as well ask that little girl. Or we could interrogate that guy once he wakes up?"
Ron answered casually, though he had already formed a guess.
What had initially been only a possibility was slowly becoming an established fact.
First, more than four hundred people had been digging together, supervised by Crocodile's most trusted man, Mr. 1.
Second, there were no mineral veins here, and what they were digging for was not ore. That was obvious from the fact that they had brought no equipment for transporting goods.
Lastly, although Crocodile lacked money, could they really smuggle treasure dug up from the Flower Capital all the way out from under Fred's nose? If they could manage that, Fred would have no face left to rebel.
So it had to be some important item that was easy to carry, buried here, and Crocodile wanted it!
The Marines' arrival had made Crocodile realize that this could not be done. He could either immediately give up and withdraw his men, or create distractions elsewhere so that the famed "Iron Fist" Garp could not intervene.
He chose the latter, having Mr. 2 Bon Clay impersonate Cobra and put on a fine performance before the Five Elders.
If nothing unexpected had