When Hachi glanced back, Alvida had already taken down nearly a third of the more than one hundred Baroque Works members on the scene.

The rest froze when they saw their leaders lying on the ground. After exchanging uneasy glances, they all turned tail and fled.

Baroque Works had no tradition of dying for their leaders’ honor. Their bonds were nothing more than mutual interests — once the balance tipped, loyalty evaporated.

“What a bunch of spineless men,” Alvida muttered under her breath.

Seeing them scatter, she stooped to pick up the briefcase she’d tossed aside earlier and checked the belly inside.

Thankfully, no one had managed to snatch it in the chaos.

“Should we chase them down and get Vivi back?” Hachi sheathed his six swords, his long mouth opening and closing as he spoke. “They’re the ones without honor — ambushing us like that!”

“No chance we’ll catch up.” Alvida rolled her eyes at him. “And since when do pirates have honor? Forget it. The money’s ours now. Let’s head back to the Terror Ghost— the captain’s probably already finished off his opponents.”

“Ohhh… fine,” Hachi agreed without protest.

When they returned to the port, they found the residents of Nanohana watching from a safe distance.

The docks had been reduced to a mess of splintered wood and rubble from the earlier battle, and no one dared to approach.

A trail of unconscious and groaning Marines lay across the pier. Stepping around them, the pair spotted the Terror Ghost— completely unharmed.

“See?” Alvida flashed Hachi a grin. “Told you the only ones in trouble would be the Navy.”

Buggy, sharp-eyed as ever, spotted them from the deck and had the gangplank lowered. As soon as they came aboard, his face lit up with greedy joy. He took the briefcase from Alvida, set it on the deck, and counted the ten million belli inside.

“Perfect! Not a single berri missing!” He was finished in moments, his excitement barely contained.

This was the happiest he’d been since joining Davy Jones’s crew.

Nearby, Kuro wiped the blood from his clawed gauntlets with a clean towel.

Mikita crouched in a corner, trying to make herself invisible under her little parasol, shielding herself from the fierce Arabastan sun.

From behind the massive mainmast, Davy Jones stepped into view. “It seems our transaction with Crocodile didn’t go as smoothly as expected.”

“Captain, we recovered the ten million belli,” Alvida reported briskly, “but we were ambushed by Baroque Works. They’ve taken Vivi.”

Buggy snapped the briefcase shut with a loud clack, grinning from ear to ear. “Doesn’t matter! Even if that Crocodile called in the Navy and his whole crew to surround us — as long as we got the ten million belli back, we’ve won.”

He turned toward Davy Jones, hefting the case. “Captain, let’s set sail immediately for the next island! This country’s a mess — we shouldn’t linger.”

Neither Alvida nor Kuro spoke. They simply looked at the captain, because from the moment the ambush happened, they’d sensed he wasn’t the least bit surprised.

Could it be… he had anticipated this outcome from the start?

If he knew Crocodile would break the deal, then surely he had already decided how to respond.

Sure enough, a slow smile spread across the writhing tendrils of Davy Jones’s chin.

“The deal was ten million belli and an alliance,” he said. “But Crocodile not only refused to pay, he set a trap for us. Breaking a contract unilaterally… makes me think he deserves a small lesson.”

“A… small lesson?” the crew echoed, startled.

Davy Jones gave his first order. “Hachi — have Sea Cow MoMoo stay in the nearby waters. It won’t need to do anything, just wait until we return.”

“Uh… alright,” Hachi said, still baffled.

The crew exchanged questioning looks, uncertain what the captain was planning.

“In a few hours, we’ll set sail and pay that ‘Desert Crocodile’ a visit.” Davy Jones turned and strode into his cabin. “Prepare yourselves to go to war with Baroque Works.”

War… against Crocodile, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea?

No one objected — the captain had already shut his door, his decision clearly final.

It was both unexpected and perfectly in character. This was exactly his way of doing things.

Alvida, however, recalled what he had once told her: if she ever dared break a deal, he would hunt her to the ends of the earth.

It seemed those words had never been an empty threat.

Vivi had been drugged and slipped into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she had no idea how many hours had passed. She was no longer in Nanohana’s alleys — but once again in a small, dark room.

For a moment, she almost thought she’d been brought back aboard the black ship. Her hands and feet were still tightly bound. She struggled, but the ropes wouldn’t give.

A fresh strip of tape sealed her mouth, allowing her only muffled hums — and no one came to answer.

She was alone. No sharp object in sight. Nothing to cut herself free.

Just as despair began to settle in, she heard voices from the hallway outside.

“The rebel army gathered outside the city yesterday,” a man’s slow, drawling voice reported. “They rested for a day… probably in another hour or two, they’ll start attacking the royal capital.”

“Mr. 4, are you a pig?!” a middle-aged woman’s impatient voice snapped back. “Do I have eyes? Can’t I see that? Oh, right — I am a pig?!” She barreled over his words without waiting for an answer. “They’ll be breaking in soon! The royal army’s ready to fight! I know all this already!”

“…Mm,” the man grunted.

Vivi’s eyes widened in recognition. From their words and voices, she guessed these must be the Mr. 4 and Miss Merry Christmas pair.

From those few sentences, she also realized she must already be in Alubarna — the royal capital. But where exactly she was being held, she couldn’t tell.

Far more worrying was the news that the rebel army had reached the city gates and a battle with the royal army was about to erupt.

And she was trapped here, unable to do anything.

Was there truly no way to stop this disaster?

The man’s sluggish voice came again: “Mr. 2 has already taken King Cobra’s form. He’s in the palace, giving orders. Mr. 0’s instructions — we’ve carried them out perfectly.”

“Mm-hm!” the impatient woman replied, then shoved open the small room’s door.

Miss Merry Christmas — Drophy — stood there, short and plump with frizzy red hair, glasses perched on her nose, her expression sour as she stared down at Vivi sitting on the floor.

“Now we’ll take her to Mr. 0,” she said with a smirk. “Let her reunite with the real Cobra.”

Mr. 1 through Mr. 4 had recently learned Mr. 0’s true identity was Crocodile himself. Far from being afraid, they were thrilled — serving a man with the prestige of a Warlord was a rare honor.

With him leading the “Utopia Operation,” success was practically assured.

Still, they continued to call him “Mr. 0” — partly from habit, partly to avoid using the boss’s name outright.

Vivi’s eyes went wide.

Her father was in their hands too? And Mr. 2 — Bon Clay — was impersonating him to command the kingdom’s forces?

Heavens… just how chaotic had things become outside? Could Pell and Chaka see through the disguise?

Pell and Chaka — the vice-captains of the Royal Guard, famed as the two “Guardian Spirits” of Arabasta.

If even they failed to expose the deception, who knew what Mr. 2 might do while wearing her father’s face?

A storm of questions surged through her mind, but there was no one to answer them.

She tried to speak, but the tape silenced her completely.

Dorofy’s grin deepened. “Heh-heh… just be a good girl and come with us.”

Mr. 4 — Babe — loomed behind her, tall enough that he had to stoop to enter the room. At his side padded a large dog.

He said nothing, but his sheer presence made the air feel heavier.

Drophy hauled Vivi to her feet, untying the rope around her legs, then marched her toward the door.

Babe and the dog stepped aside to let them through.

Vivi stayed silent, offering no resistance, letting herself be pulled along toward the palace like a kite in someone else’s hands.

The irony wasn’t lost on her — ever since her cover had been blown on Cactus Island, she’d been a prisoner. The only thing that had changed was whose hands she was in: Davy Jones’s crew before, Baroque Works now.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep