Chapter 28: More Than a "Side"
Crocodile sensed something was off long before Vergil began to gather his power.
He'd spent enough time with the ancient being to understand his nature.
One could call him reckless, or infuriatingly simple.
But the most critical point was this:
Unpredictable.
In his long career of manipulation, Crocodile had found that Alvin Vergil was the only person he couldn't reliably predict or control.
Why?
Because Vergil never overthought his actions. He operated on pure, unfiltered instinct and desire. Such a person wasn't "crazy"—they were alarmingly sincere. And when someone like that got serious, they stopped caring about consequences. They simply acted.
Like right now.
Vergil was facing Garp, his body shifting, power coiling in his throat. Not on the shore, but right here on the deck of Crocodile's ship. If he unleashed a full-power attack here, the recoil alone could shatter the vessel into driftwood.
"Tch. Too lazy to even finish your fight on land, you primitive?" Crocodile muttered. He didn't waste time arguing. His body dissolved into swirling sand that raced up the mast, engulfing the already unfurled sails.
He'd prepared to depart quickly, so the sails were full. Now, he needed to negate them. In his urgency, he didn't furl them neatly—he simply shredded the canvas with whirling grit to minimize wind resistance.
A split-second later, the roar erupted.
ROOOOAAAAARRR!
Crocodile felt his feet leave the deck as the entire ship was hurled backwards by the colossal force. He grabbed the railing, anchoring himself, and drove streams of solid sand deep into the ship's timbers, fusing himself to the deck.
Thus secured, he could finally observe their insane exit.
The sky was blue. The clouds were white.
It was rather picturesque.
…Wait.
Why could he see clouds beside the ship?
Crocodile looked over the rail and understood. Vergil's roar had acted like a titanic cannon, blasting the entire vessel clear of the Sabaody docks. They weren't sailing away; they were flying, arcing through the air away from the archipelago.
As the smoking ruins of Grove 13 shrank into the distance, Crocodile let out a tense breath. Good. Whatever else happened, they were putting distance between themselves and the Marines, the CP, and the enraged Celestial Dragons.
The fact that "Vergil escaped with Crocodile" would be witnessed by many was a problem, but one Crocodile could manage later with lies and misdirection.
His gaze then turned to Vergil. The ancient being was shaking off the after-effects of his transformation, a faint trickle of something dark—Armament Haki?—dribbling from the corner of his mouth. His monstrous Oni form receded, melting back into his preferred, sculpturally perfect human shape.
"Whew!"
Vergil took a deep, satisfied breath, wiped his mouth, and turned to Crocodile with a brilliant, exhilarated grin.
He threw his arms wide. "So? How was that?!"
How was that? Was he serious? Did this relic have any concept of the monumental trouble he'd just ignited?
Crocodile felt a vein throb in his temple. He chose silence, turning his back to focus on the imminent splashdown. They just had to survive the landing, set a course, and make for Alabasta.
...
Soon, the ship hit the sea with a tremendous splash and shudder, but held together. It was built for the Grand Line's wrath; a single high-altitude launch wasn't enough to break it.
Crocodile pulled out an Eternal Pose, checked their position against the log, and quickly plotted a bearing.
A sudden thump and scraping noise from the port side made him tense.
"Hm?"
Wary of a Marine pursuit, he reformed his right hand into a blade of solidified sand and crept to the rail.
"Identify yourself," he growled.
Looking down, he saw a tall, crimson-skinned fish-man hauling himself hand-over-hand up a trailing rope. With a final heave, Fisher Tiger landed on the deck, water streaming from his powerful frame.
Even Crocodile's cynicism was momentarily punctured by the fish-man's swift arrival. "I'd heard fish-men were fast in the sea, but this is impressive," he remarked coolly.
Tiger glanced at Crocodile. He didn't like the man's aura—it smelled of calculation and dry rot—but this was his ship, and he seemed to be Vergil's… associate. Tiger gave a curt, respectful nod.
Then, he walked over to Vergil. The ancient man was still replaying the fight in his head, muttering to himself about theory and application, about that new, fascinating sensation of Armament Haki.
Could he learn to wield it fully?
Seeing Tiger approach, Vergil nodded, his grin returning. "You came along! Good!"
"..."
"Thank you," Tiger said, his voice a deep rumble. He bowed his head formally. "I am in your debt for my freedom. But… I cannot go with you."
He straightened, his expression resolute yet conflicted. "There are things I must do. I must return to Fish-Man Island first, and then…"
He trailed off. The plan was already forming in his heart—a plan to storm the holy land of Mary Geoise itself, to tear down the ugliness he'd witnessed, to shatter the auction blocks and free every slave he could find. It was what he had to do.
But he wouldn't drag Vergil into that suicide mission. He kept the plan to himself.
Vergil just shrugged. Once a fish-man of Tiger's skill hit the open ocean, only an Admiral with very specific powers could hope to catch him. Tiger was free. The fact that he'd chased after them just to say goodbye spoke of a profound and honest gratitude.
"No matter what you want to do, just do it!" Vergil said, his eyes bright.
Tiger actually chuckled, a low, rough sound. "Lindsay… that was going to be your next line, wasn't it?"
Vergil blinked, then laughed. It was exactly what he'd been about to say.
Seeing this, Tiger slowly sat cross-legged on the damp deck, gesturing for Vergil to join him. Crocodile watched from near the helm, silently puffing on his cigar.
"I have a question," Tiger said, his brow furrowed with a deep unease.
Vergil sat opposite him, attentive.
Tiger gathered his thoughts, speaking slowly. "In Mary Geoise, I saw humans inflict unspeakable cruelty upon my people. I could not bear it. I swore that no matter the risk, I would fight. I would save them. I… hated humans."
He clenched his massive fists, then slowly relaxed them.
"But…"
He recalled Sabaody. The Marines prioritizing civilian evacuation over chasing slaves. The terrified families, the sailors helping each other. He couldn't muster that same hatred for them.
"I am confused," Tiger confessed, his voice a troubled murmur. "Should I hold to my original conviction—to have no dealings with humans? Or… should I try to believe in Princess Otohime's dream, and seek a path of peace?"
Vergil understood immediately. The chaos on Sabaody, caused by his own actions, had forced Tiger to see a more complex picture of humanity far earlier than fate might have intended. It had created a rift in his purpose.
Which side should I be on? My own righteous fury? Or the Princess's hopeful dream?
"..."
Vergil thought for a moment, then tilted his head. "Actually, I have a question, too."
"Oh?"
Vergil pointed to his own head, then to Tiger's, and even gave a nod toward the watching Crocodile.
"Me, you, him… we all think differently," Vergil said. "Even brothers aren't the same person. Where there's life, there are differences. Different thoughts. Different… positions."
He paused, his playful tone giving way to something simpler, more profound.
"We're all our own people. We have our own lives."
He looked directly into Tiger's conflicted eyes.
"So why should anyone's 'path' be decided by something as small as picking a 'side'?"
This, perhaps, was a story not about sides, but about finding one's own way.
(End of Chapter)
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