Babe and Drophy — one tall, one short — escorted Vivi into the royal palace of the Nefertari family, where she had lived since childhood.

They encountered fully armed guards, yet these soldiers saluted Babe and Drophy. That could only mean one thing — the people here had all been replaced by members of Baroque Works.

Drophy pulled Vivi along, quickly bringing her to the top floor of the palace. Amid the shattered ruins, they found the mastermind behind everything.

The two chief royal guards, Pell the Falcon and Chaka the Jackal, lay unconscious in pools of blood.

Standing over them were three figures: the braided, hat-wearing Miss Goldenweek (Marianne); the bespectacled Mr. 3 with hair shaped like the number three; and the heavily made-up Mr. 2 Bon Clay in his swan-themed ballet outfit.

Pell and Chaka had fallen to these three.

Mr. 3 and Miss Goldenweek were partners. Bon Clay had no female partner — being an okama, he worked alone.

In the center seat sat Crocodile, the “Desert Kingpin,” eyes closed as if napping, a stitched scar marking his face. Robin leaned against a nearby stone pillar.

To either side stood Mr. 1, a powerfully built, close-cropped man, and Miss Doublefinger (Zala), a slender blue-haired woman with a wild, frizzed style.

Vivi was still reeling from the shock of seeing Pell and Chaka’s fate when her eyes caught on a man against the far wall.

It was her father — King Cobra — arms outstretched, nailed to the wall, unable to move.

“Mmmph!” Even with her mouth taped shut, Vivi cried out toward him and tried to run to her father, but Dorothy yanked her back.

A swift kick to the back of her knee made her lose balance, forcing her to kneel before Crocodile.

“Vivi!” King Cobra’s voice was weak, ragged from torture, but still full of concern.

Her heart ached.

Crocodile opened his eyes and looked at her for a moment before turning his gaze to Cobra. He lit a cigar.

“Nefeltari Cobra,” he said, calling the king by name. “My people have brought your daughter here. This is your final chance. Tell me — where is the Poneglyph?”

Poneglyph?

It was the first time Vivi had ever heard the term. She glanced at her father in confusion, but he only frowned and lowered his head, jaw set, determined not to speak the secret.

“I don’t have time to waste on you,” Crocodile said, rising from his seat and walking toward her.

Cobra sensed his intent and shouted in fear, “Crocodile, what are you doing? Come at me if you must — don’t lay a hand on Vivi!”

The Shichibukai ignored him. His right arm turned into sand, extending to grip Vivi’s throat in his ringed hand, lifting her like a chick.

This was the power of the Sand-Sand Fruit.

Vivi’s hands clutched at his wrist as she struggled in pain, her airway crushed. In seconds she would suffocate.

“If anything happens to Vivi, I’d rather die than tell you where the Poneglyph is!” Cobra roared.

“Heh.” Crocodile released her, and she collapsed to the floor, coughing violently.

“It seems we’ve made some progress in our negotiations,” Crocodile said coldly. With the golden hook of his left arm, he lightly scratched her forearm. Blood spread in thin red lines along her skin.

“What have you done?” Cobra demanded, dread rising in him.

Crocodile smiled. “The tip of my hook is coated with poison. Only a trace has entered her body, but in ten minutes she’ll be dead — guaranteed.”

“You—!” Cobra’s eyes blazed with fury.

“Without the antidote, your daughter will die in agony,” Crocodile continued.

He walked to the palace rooftop’s edge and looked down at the vast plaza below.

“And while this happens, you’ll witness your people slaughter each other until I get what I want.”

The moment his words fell, a sound like the earth itself shaking roared up from below.

The rebels had breached the capital.

The royal army, unaware of Vivi and Cobra’s plight, was already drawn up in tight formation, ready to defend the palace to the last.

The next moment, the rebels surged into the plaza. After a tense standoff, shouts turned to violence, the two sides crashing together like colliding sea trains — bodies and steel smashed in chaos.

“Cough… cough…” Vivi struggled to her feet, listening to the thunderous battle cries below, her face bleak with despair.

By cruel twist of fate, her childhood friend Koza now led these rebels — fighting to overthrow what he believed was Cobra’s tyranny.

Many royal officers in the plaza had doted on her since she was small. Now, thanks to Crocodile’s scheme, they were killing each other, never knowing they were being used.

It was too late. Far too late.

Crocodile swept his hands wide. The desert beyond the capital surged in response, sand flooding the plaza like a yellow tide, obscuring the battlefield, deepening the rage between the two sides.

Baroque Works agents mingled in the chaos, fanning the flames, striking wherever they pleased.

The carnage was sickening.

The “Desert Kingpin” turned back to Cobra with a smile. “Make your choice. Will you watch your daughter and those fools below die, or will you tell me where the Poneglyph is?”

Cobra’s expression darkened. He was trapped.

He knew roughly what was inscribed on the Poneglyph — the location of the ancient weapon Pluton, said to have the power to destroy an island with ease.

Crocodile’s entire plan was aimed at finding it.

If Cobra revealed its location, perhaps his daughter and people might be spared Crocodile’s wrath. But if Pluton fell into his hands, the world’s future would be one of terror and destruction — and Cobra himself would be history’s greatest criminal.

What should he choose?

If only someone could give him the one reason he needed to make the right choice.

Gunfire cracked amidst the shouts below.

Cobra looked and saw Vivi collapsing weakly to the floor — her time almost up.

“I understand,” the king finally said, voice heavy with defeat. “Crocodile… it’s in the royal tomb, in the underground chamber.”

Robin’s eyes narrowed. She had studied the capital’s layout before arriving. A single glance at her memory confirmed the likely location.

Crocodile’s grin widened. “At last, the right choice. Robin, let him down — he’ll lead the way. The rest of you, stay here and keep order.”

“You won’t keep your word?” Cobra demanded.

“Relax. Your daughter will drink the antidote,” Crocodile said, signaling Robin. “Consider it a down payment. As for when this war ends… that depends on how quickly you bring me to the Poneglyph.”

Robin freed Cobra, who glared at Crocodile, swallowing his fury.

She then walked to the limp Vivi and poured the antidote into her mouth.

Vivi’s eyes fluttered open, strength returning. She saw Robin, then her freed father, and pieced together what had happened.

“Father…” she murmured in shame.

He tried to go to her, but was blocked by senior agents. From a distance, he gave her a firm nod. “You’ve already done enough, my child.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She looked up — only to see the once-blue sky hidden by Crocodile’s sandstorm, the weight of despair pressing down.

Plip.

Something fell on her cheek.

At first she thought it was her imagination — until more drops fell.

In moments, dark clouds rolled in like war chariots, lightning splitting the sky. A fierce wind blew the sand away.

Then came the downpour — sheets of rain crashing down over the capital, drenching the plaza.

The storm washed away the sand… and the hatred between the soldiers.

All stood frozen where they were, enemy and ally alike, looking up into the rain.

Three years — most of Arabasta had gone without a single drop.

Why now, and why here?

No one had time to answer before someone shouted: “Hey! Look! What’s that in the sky?!”

Hands shielded eyes from the rain.

What they saw made them go pale.

From the heavens descended a massive black ship — its prow aimed straight at the royal palace!

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep