Location: Rainbase, Alabasta Year: 1522
Rainbase was a mockery of the surrounding desert. While Yuba withered and died, Rainbase flourished with lush palm trees, overflowing fountains, and the smell of expensive tobacco. It was a city built on the suffering of the rest of the kingdom, a gilded cage run by a crocodile in a fur coat.
Hiroki walked through the streets. He didn't hide. His vest of crystal wolf hide drew stares, but his eyes—cold, analytical, and tired—kept people at a distance.
He stopped in front of the pyramid: Rain Dinners.
The casino was massive, topped with a golden crocodile statue.
[Tactical Insight: Active]
Structure: Reinforced concrete and gold plating.Security: Baroque Works Millions disguised as staff.Target Location: Basement VIP Room.
"A pyramid," Hiroki scoffed. "Subtle."
He walked up the stairs. The doormen, two burly men in suits, stepped forward.
"Membership card?" one asked.
Hiroki didn't stop walking. He didn't draw his sword. He simply projected his Observation Haki. A wave of heavy, oppressive intent washed over the guards. They felt—viscerally—that stopping him would result in immediate dismemberment.
They stepped aside, sweating profusely.
Inside, the casino was a cacophony of slot machines and cheering. Hiroki walked past the roulette tables, ignoring the frantic energy of gambling. He approached the central reception desk.
"I'm here to see the manager," Hiroki said to the receptionist.
"Mr. 0 is busy," she replied automatically.
"Tell him the 'Calculator' is here. And tell him I know about the Utopia Plan."
The receptionist froze. Her hand went under the desk—likely a silent alarm.
"Go ahead," Hiroki encouraged. "Ring it."
She pressed the button.
A moment later, a hidden door behind the bar slid open. A woman with glasses and strange hair—Miss Father's Day—stepped out.
"This way, sir," she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Hiroki followed her. They descended a long, spiral staircase. The air grew cooler, smelling of damp stone and reptiles.
They emerged into a lavish underwater room. Massive glass windows looked out into a pool where giant Bananawani—crocodiles with bananas on their heads—swam lazily.
Sitting at a long table at the far end of the room was a man. He wore a heavy fur coat despite the heat, a gold hook on his left hand, and a cigar clamped between his teeth.
Sir Crocodile. One of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
"So," Crocodile rumbled, his voice deep and scratching like sandpaper. "You're the rat scurrying around my sandbox."
Hiroki stopped ten paces away. He didn't bow.
"I prefer 'auditor'," Hiroki said. "Your operation is messy, Crocodile. Millions running wild. Officer Agents getting beaten by rookies. And a plan that relies on a bomb in a clock tower?"
Crocodile's eyes narrowed. "You know a lot for a dead man."
"I know enough."
"Why are you here?" Crocodile asked, tapping ash onto the floor. "Blackmail? Joining up?"
Hiroki rested his hand on Umitsubame.
"Experience," Hiroki said honestly. "I want to know where the ceiling is."
Crocodile laughed. It was a cruel, dry sound.
"The ceiling?" Crocodile stood up. Sand swirled around his boots. "Boy, in the Grand Line, there is no ceiling. There is only the sky. And you are just a flightless bird."
"Let's see if I can fly," Hiroki whispered.
[Combat Mode Initiated][Opponent: Sir Crocodile (Logia)][Win Probability: <1%]
The interface was brutal. Less than one percent.
Hiroki didn't care. He needed to push his Haki. He needed to face a Logia.
He drew his sword.
Click.
The sound echoed in the underwater room. The Bananawani stopped swimming, sensing the bloodlust.
"Sables," Crocodile muttered lazily.
A small tornado of sand formed in his palm. He tossed it forward. It grew instantly, becoming a massive sandstorm that filled the room.
Hiroki didn't run. He charged into the storm.
[Chapter 16 End]