A joke had been making the rounds throughout the Underworld lately.
Crocodile, the Shichibukai from Alabasta, the infamous Sand Crocodile who had crushed the skull of a pirate worth over a hundred million with one hand, was buying saplings in bulk through underground networks.
The first order was for ten thousand.
The middleman thought he had misheard and checked three times.
Crocodile's subordinate repeated each word into the Den Den Mushi: "Sand willows, saxaul, desert poplars, tamarisk, sea buckthorn. We'll take everything you have." The second order was for fifty thousand saplings. The third was for a hundred thousand.
When word got out, the underground ports of the New World erupted in laughter.
The King of Loan Sharks, Du Feld, used it as drinking entertainment at the card table. Shipping King Umit added a line to the end of his shipping briefing: "Mr. Sand Crocodile has changed careers and become a gardener."
It was certainly funny, but who had anything against Beli?
Merchant ships flying all sorts of skull flags began making frequent calls at Alabasta's ports. Pirate flags fluttered from their masts, and their holds were packed with saplings.
While unloading, the pirates squatted beside the docks, smoking as they watched bundles of saplings being loaded onto desert transport carts. Their expressions were those of people watching a crocodile eat vegetables.
"Mr. Sand Crocodile, the third shipment of saplings has been warehoused. The fourth is expected in port next week." His subordinate's report came through the Den Den Mushi, his tone cautious, as though afraid of becoming a target for his anger.
Crocodile sat in his office on the top floor of Rain Dinners, his right hand resting on the arm of the sofa. He took the cigar from his mouth and tapped it against the edge of the