"No—honestly, I think you're right, King Cobra."
Faced with Cobra's radiant smile, Darren shook his head, all solemnity. "We can't take chances with something like this. We're in Mary Geoise—the Holy Land. And for an inauguration ceremony, the World Government's security is going to be tighter than usual. Even I can't guarantee we won't be noticed."
"So we should prepare in advance," he continued, as if explaining a sensible logistical plan. "If we're discovered, we'll need it to look convincing. Believable."
His gaze swept Cobra from head to toe, thoughtful. "Forget the leg. Hard to walk afterward. I'll just break one of your arms."
Why is he so obsessed with breaking people's limbs?!
Cobra nearly teared up.
A king's pride, a royal's dignity—those were real things. But even those depended on the opponent.
If it were anyone else, Cobra would have rather died than bend. He could have sat tall, cold-eyed, and said: If you've got the guts, kill me.
But this was Darren.
And with Darren's brand of lunacy, it wouldn't be posturing. He would actually do it.
Before Cobra could get a word in—
"How dare you threaten His Majesty Cobra?!" Igaram bellowed, voice trembling with fury. "Do you think His Majesty can be intimidated? He is the King of Alabasta! A member of the glorious Nefertari royal line! Even if both his arms and legs were broken— even if he died here—he would never yield!"
Cobra: "..."
He turned his head slowly, expression dead-flat, and stared at his captain.
"Igaram," he said softly, "haven't I treated you well all these years?"
Igaram nodded fiercely, righteous fire blazing. "Your Majesty, rest assured! Even if something happens to you today, I will continue serving the Nefertari family. I will support Princess Titi as she ascends the throne and ensure Alabasta's glory shines across the seas!"
Cobra's lips twitched.
He turned back to Darren, his face breaking into the warmest, most harmless smile he could manage. "Don't listen to him," he said brightly. "He's got screws loose."
"Your Majesty!" Igaram stared, aghast, at the sight of his king smiling so agreeably at their intruder. Something inside him cracked.
Was this really the King of Alabasta?
Where was a monarch's dignity? The pride of a founder's bloodline? The unyielding spirit of the Nefertari family?
Igaram's mind short-circuited. He almost wanted to ask if Darren had swapped the real Cobra out for a lookalike.
"Damn it!" Igaram snarled, glaring at Darren. "Don't you dare do anything reckless! His Majesty's position is not ordinary. If you lay a finger on him, the consequences will be catastrophic!"
Darren considered that, then nodded earnestly. "You're right. Fair point."
His eyes shifted to Igaram. He looked him over with quiet appraisal.
"Then choose a hand."
Igaram: "?"
He froze. Absolutely frozen.
A heartbeat later, he spun to Cobra, snapped into a formal bow, and declared with grave sincerity, "Your Majesty—please sacrifice yourself for Alabasta!"
Cobra: "..."
Forcing a smile that looked suspiciously like pain, he said stiffly, "Darren… don't joke with an old man."
Then his expression sharpened, just a fraction. "What do you really want? Say it. If it's within my power, I'll do everything I can to help you."
As he spoke, he flicked a pointed look at Igaram.
Igaram understood instantly. He produced a lighter, clicked it, and lifted the flame toward Darren's cigar, shielding it with his palm.
Darren glanced between the two men, then chuckled. He leaned in and lit the cigar. Smoke curled through the carriage, softening the tension without relieving it.
After a slow drag, Darren exhaled and said mildly, "It's nothing complicated. I'm not here to harm King Cobra."
He looked straight at Cobra. Calm, almost conversational.
"I just want to know something. What trump cards does the World Government actually have?"
Cobra and Igaram's expressions shifted.
The carriage fell silent—so silent the drifting smoke felt loud.
Several seconds passed before Cobra finally spoke, voice rough. "I'm merely the king of a member nation. If the World Government has hidden weapons… what makes you think I'd be privy to them?"
Darren shook his head, smiling faintly. "No, King Cobra. As far as I know, you're not just any king."
"Alabasta is different from the other member nations."
"And the most important reason is this: the Nefertari family—Alabasta's royal line—was one of the twenty families that founded the World Government eight hundred years ago."
"In other words," Darren said, eyes steady, "Nefertari Cobra—the twelfth king of Alabasta—was born with the right to be a Celestial Dragon. A World Noble of the highest rank."
Cobra's pupils tightened, shock snapping through him.
He knows.
He knows the Nefertari family's secret.
"Don't bother denying it," Darren added evenly. "I didn't come here without doing my homework."
"What I find interesting," he continued, "is that despite being founders, the Nefertari chose not to move to the Holy Land with the other nineteen families. You stayed in Alabasta instead."
He watched Cobra with quiet amusement, the corner of his mouth lifting. "I'd like to know why."
Cobra's expression wavered. Under Darren's gaze, he seemed to wrestle with himself for an eternity. Cold sweat gathered at his temples. Ten long seconds later, he let out a slow, defeated breath.
"Since you've done your homework… there's no point hiding it."
"The Nefertari family stayed in Alabasta for a reason," he said, voice tight. "A secret duty."
Darren's smile deepened slightly. "Go on."
Cobra clenched his jaw. Helplessness flickered across his eyes—then hardened into something fierce.
"Because of the Ancient Weapon…"
He swallowed.
"…Pluton."
"Your Majesty!" Igaram stared at Cobra, disbelief written across his face, as if he couldn't accept that the king had actually said it out loud.
To be continued...