"A mustache?"
The Marine officer on the wall paused, then quickly frowned.
Identifying someone by a mustache alone was practically impossible. Besides, far too many people had that feature.
The most famous of them was the former Pirate King Roger, but he had died twenty years ago.
"Perhaps he was just passing through!"
Muttering to himself, the officer watched the little boat sail away and finally vanish into the night, then turned his attention back to the task at hand.
For now, the Whitebeard Pirates were the ones who demanded their attention. They were their primary target.
Meanwhile, on Shallow Gora Island.
"It's time to move! If we leave now, we'll reach our destination tomorrow."
The cold-faced man in a black top hat spoke in a low voice, a white pigeon perched on his shoulder.
"What sort of mission made him send you out personally?"
Crocodile smiled faintly, a cigar between his lips.
"A rescue."
Rob Lucci spoke.
"A rescue?"
Crocodile paused, then laughed.
"Now that's interesting."
He glanced around and soon realized that the entire CP9 team was setting out. His eyes narrowed slightly again.
Not far away, Roronoa Zoro watched the scene with confusion in his eyes.
After Rob Lucci and the others boarded a small boat and sailed away from the island, he approached Crocodile.
"What are they going to do?"
Crocodile turned to glance at him. "That's none of your business."
"Tch!"
Zoro clicked his tongue.
"Get ready. It's time for us to leave, too!"
Crocodile spoke again.
"And where are you going?"
Zoro asked curiously.
The atmosphere on Shallow Gora Island had felt off these past few days, making him suspect that something major was about to happen.
"Where are we going? That's none of your business either."
"But I suppose there's no harm in