Watching Crocodile stonewall yet again, Admiral Sengoku could only sigh.
Marines had taken turns trying to persuade her. Useless. The woman's head was harder than steel. Every time she refused on the spot.
Had she already decided that Ozz would pull her out sooner or later.
At this rate they would have to let her go anyway, Sengoku thought grimly. For the sake of his own record, he had no choice but to make the trip himself.
"The Warlords of the Sea are a pillar the World Government is building to stand alongside the Marines and the Emperors," he explained. "You only need to follow orders occasionally. With terms this generous, why refuse."
To Sengoku, this policy was already extraordinarily lenient toward pirates. Legalized predation. A ready-made reputation. For all but a very few, it was a good deal.
If she were the Crocodile of old, she might have agreed in order to chase some private objective.
Now she clearly did not see it that way.
Her time beside Ozz had given her a peek at heaven's foyer. She had watched the daily comings and goings of people at the very top of the world. It had made her bold, bold to the point that Conqueror's Haki was beginning to stir.
The World Government, that petty thing.
A pack of fools hamstrung by Ozz at every turn. On what grounds should Crocodile bend. Even in name she would not.
Even after Sakazuki had handed her a beating, Little Croc still had not taken a long look in the mirror. She kept using the Ozz comparison method.
"Has Ozz joined the Warlords of the Sea," she asked coolly.
Seeing the shadow in her eyes and hearing the refusal underneath, Sengoku felt another headache roll in.
"No. But"
"Then I am not joining either."
Sengoku fell silent.
He swallowed his temper and circled around.
"Ozz is a special case. You know that, Crocodile. Do not say things that are impossible to arrange. Someone else from Ozz's side has already agreed. Donquixote Doflamingo accepted a Warlord seat. There is no need to be so resistant."
He meant to use the Flamingo as a calming example. If that man could join, then surely there was no shame in it.
He could not have stabbed a more tender nerve.
A vein jumped in Crocodile's forehead. Her face went dark enough to drip.
"Are you kidding me, Sengoku."
"Do not lump me in with scum like Doflamingo. I will never acknowledge that bastard."
The disgust was bone-deep. Comparing her to that underworld thug only fanned the flame.
"What about Dracule Mihawk," Sengoku tried. "As Ozz's right hand, he has agreed to join the Warlords as well. With Ozz's blessing."
Even Sengoku disliked borrowing Ozz's name. The Marines stood in that awkward middle ground with him, half enemy, half ally, sometimes eager to fight yet forced to cooperate.
He had opened with practical benefits precisely to avoid shaking Ozz's banner. It was not working.
He had to admit it. Ozz's name opened doors most of the time.
Crocodile froze, then looked up sharply.
"You are saying Mihawk agreed, and Ozz supports it."
"Did he say anything about me."
Sengoku nodded, forced to be honest.
"Ozz did say he supports the plan. Otherwise why do you think he has not come for you yet. To be blunt, if Ozz wished to come, Impel Down would not hold him."
The hard steel came out of her spine. Her stare lost some of its edge.
The pitch had finally found purchase.
The Flamingo's example carried no weight. Hawk Eyes did.
And Ozz clearly had no intention of lifting a finger. He was probably waiting for her to say yes and walk out on her own.
Her head cooled. Crocodile measured the board at last.
Agree, and she would be siding with Ozz's wishes, out the door today.
Refuse, and she would sit here on iron and stone. Maybe Ozz would remember her and show up. Maybe he would not, and she would keep eating badly and sleeping worse.
With Hawk Eyes already committed, Little Croc unclenched.
"I do not know what Ozz is after. But if Mihawk is joining, then fine. I will play Warlord for a while."
The iron head relented.
"You really are stubborn, Moria."
Ozz glanced over the massed zombies and the stitched-together things that should never have been. He did not bother wasting time. He strolled through and everything he passed froze in place, as if time had been caught in a glass.
Inside the black castle, a tall silhouette stared through a window, eyes spiderwebbed with blood-red lines, teeth grinding. Thinner than he would be in later years, Gecko Moria's eyes went round with shock.
Why was that man here.
"I came all this way, and not even a hello," Ozz called lightly. "After all, we have met before."
"Hey, Moria."
He waved like a neighbor in a garden, the smile careless, bare of malice.
Perhaps it was that unbothered walk in a place built to frighten that pushed Moria over the lip. He clenched his jaw and turned to shadow, appearing at the castle gate in an instant.
"Hey. Black Emperor. Why are you on my turf. What do you want."
The fight had gone out of him by half. He still bared his teeth, but these were words first. The Moria of Loguetown would have swung before speaking and let the conversation pick over the wreckage later.
Facing the man who had once pressed Kaido back, his opening volley was only bluster.
"So you finally crawled out," Ozz said, hands in his pockets, smile easy. No sign of a man looking to pick a fight.
"You should have heard the news. The World Government is about to invite you to become a Warlord of the Sea."
"I am here to ask whether you want to join us. Or to put it another way."
"Do you want my name on your back when you go after Kaido."