Chapter 11 Baroque Studio

Alabasta, a renowned large country in the first stretch of the Grand Line, lies within a vast desert.

The kingdom comprises several major cities surrounding oases: the capital Arupana, the dream city Rainland, the oasis city Airuma, the port city Nahana, and more.

Among these cities, the most prosperous isn't Yoba, the trading hub, or Alubarna, the capital, but Rainland—a famed hub of gold in Alabasta, housing the largest casinos, colosseums, and theaters.

Despite the relentless desert sun outside, the circular conference room atop the pyramid-like Rainbase building—the largest casino in Rainland—was unnaturally cold.

In the dim room, three Baroque Works agents sat, hardly daring to breathe.

There was MR.1, Daz Bonis, with the quick-cutting fruit ability; MR.2, Bentham, the Clone-Clone Fruit user; and MR.3, the candle fruit user, Mr. 3.

Standing nearby were two imposing figures—a vulture and a mole, both clad in sunglasses, serving as enforcers and messengers for Baroque Works.

Only these three were privileged to know the true identity of Baroque Works' boss.

Just as the tension in the conference room was about to solidify, footsteps shattered the silence.

Under the watchful eyes of all present, who dared not meet the boss's gaze directly, Crocodile, the shadowy mastermind, draped in a black fur coat with a cigarette dangling from his lips, strolled in. He settled into the stone chair that signified the boss's seat.

Exhaling a puff of smoke, he spoke.

"Report. What's the situation with MR.5 and Miss Doublefinger?"

At the boss's prompt, the agents sprang into action.

The vulture, as enforcer, produced several photos captured by a camera strapped to its chest.

Crocodile picked them up and examined them.

Upon seeing the gruesome corpses in the photos, he frowned.

MR.1, Darz Bones, Crocodile's trusted investigator, added grimly,

"Boss, I personally inspected Whiskey Peak. Not a soul left alive. They've all been drained of blood, just like this."

At MR.1's report, Bentham, MR.2, paled visibly and stammered,

"S-sucking... like a vampire?"

Crocodile's brow furrowed deeper.

He'd killed many, but never so many in one night.

Yet, as a Logia Devil Fruit user, he trusted in his power, especially in the paradise of the Grand Line's first half.

"So, MR.5 and Miss Doublefinger weren't traitors—they were killed?"

MR.1 nodded and calmly affirmed,

"I highly doubt MR.5 and Miss Doublefinger had the nerve to betray you, Boss."

Though speculative, the agents all believed MR.1's judgment. In the hearts of Baroque Works' agents, Crocodile was a demon, and none dared cross him.

MR.3 added,

"Boss, I tried contacting MR.5 and the others, but the transponder snail remains silent. It's likely MR.5 and Miss Doublefinger are..."

Crocodile showed no remorse for his agents' deaths, merely asking,

"Have you identified the perpetrator?"

MR.1 nodded, and with a nod to the mole, a wanted poster was produced.

"Fresh from the Marines today. According to our analysis, it's the man beside Nico Robin—the Devil's son."

Crocodile examined it, then sneered.

"Zoan Bat form? A fool granted Devil Fruit power who doesn't know his place?"

"Yes, Boss. Current intel suggests as much."

Crocodile's gaze sharpened, and he queried,

"Anything else, MR.1?"

MR.1 shook his head, fixating on the tragic images before him.

"No, Boss. It's just... MR.5 may have been reckless, but his Devil Fruit ability was formidable. As for Miss Doublefinger, though less powerful, her caution and use of her Demon Fruit power, amidst the numerous pirate hunters of Whiskey Peak, makes their stealthy elimination in a single night quite remarkable. Killing them all swiftly, under such circumstances, isn't an easy feat—not even for a thousand pigs."

MR.1's words caught everyone's attention. Crocodile's eyes gleamed with a hint of surprise, then curled into a smile.

"Fascinating... could it be..."

His words, edged with mockery, seized everyone's focus.

"Seems like another tedious Marine ploy. MR.1, track this man's movements and keep me informed."

MR.1, sensing Crocodile's intentions, asked cautiously,

"Boss, are you considering personal intervention?"

"Nico Robin is pivotal to my plans! Hahahaha!!!"

Crocodile's laughter reverberated through the dark conference room.

Unbeknownst to Crocodile, the one he sought was already in route to Alabasta...

Night fell on the sea, waves softly lapping against two moored ships—a large vessel and Gnar's smaller fishing boat.

Under moonlight and deck lights, a barbecue unfolded on Gnar's boat.

Despite the small company—just three people—the atmosphere was warm. Unlike rowdy pirate revelry, tranquility and harmony pervaded.

Zala, the newest member, observed Gnar tending the grill with surprise.

She struggled to reconcile the gentle man before her with the vampire demon who'd razed Whiskey Peak ten days prior, and the relentless hunter who'd haunted her nights.

Robin lounged nearby in a beach chair, savoring sake, admiring the moonlight, and relishing Gnar's culinary delights.

"Gnar-kun, why the rush to leave Little Garden? I thought you'd stay until mastering Haki?" Robin queried casually.

"No need. Dorry and Brogy made it clear. My current strength won't master Haki through passive training. Combat's the key."

Robin, having known Gnar's intentions, teased gently,

"Then, I'll freshen up and turn in. Captain Gnar, Miss Zala, pleasant night to you both..."

Zala, sensing Robin's playful gaze, froze—recalling nights tormented by Nar.

But realization dawned, as Gnar followed Robin below deck.

Soon, sounds ensued that reddened Zala's cheeks...

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