"At the very least, we can't entrust the lives of millions to luck," Darren said evenly, "or—worse—to the whims of those deranged Celestial Dragons."
"And what choice do we have?" Cobra's voice went hoarse. He drew a slow breath, forcing his face into a calm mask as he looked straight at Darren. "Alabasta is a member state of the World Government. If we can't rely on the Government's protection, who do we turn to?"
"The Marines? They're bound to the Government as well."
"Pirates, then? The Shichibukai? Those great pirate crews in the New World?" He let out a low, bitter laugh. "That would be even more ridiculous, wouldn't it?"
Then his eyes narrowed.
"Or…" he said slowly, "are you planning to bring Alabasta under the protection of the North Blue Fleet?"
Darren shrugged, spreading his hands with an easy smile. "I won't deny I've thought about it. But I also know it's impossible—because you'd never agree. Am I wrong?"
Cobra didn't answer.
He didn't have to. The answer was obvious.
The Nefertari had been among the twenty royal families who founded the World Government. Alabasta's allegiance to that system was, whatever its rot, still the "proper" path.
And more than that—Cobra had serious doubts about whether the North Blue Fleet could truly shelter Alabasta from what would follow.
If Alabasta openly broke with the World Government and sought Darren's protection, retaliation wouldn't be a possibility. It would be a certainty.
Alabasta couldn't survive that kind of storm.
"Since you understand," Cobra said, voice heavy with fatigue, "then don't force this old man, Darren."
"No, Your Majesty," Darren said, smiling. "I'm not here to force you into choosing sides. As everyone knows, Rogers Darren may be a disgrace… but when it comes to business, I keep my word."
"What I'm proposing is a deal."
Cobra frowned. "A deal?" His voice dropped by instinct.
Outside the carriage, the noise had thinned. Hooves and wheels sounded more distant, softened by the hush of shaded streets and filtered sunlight.
They'd left the bustling inner city behind. They were passing through the Land of the Gods—the domain where most Celestial Dragons lived.
Beyond this district lay the heart of the World Government itself: Pangaea Castle, perched at the top of the Stairway to Heaven.
"Yes," Darren said. "A deal."
"There's a saying in business: don't put all your eggs in one basket." His tone deepened, turning intent. "What I'm offering you is a second basket."
He paused.
"A basket completely independent of the World Government."
Cobra's eyes tightened. Beside him, Igaram's face went pale.
"You're saying…?"
"Exactly." Darren gave Cobra a quick wink.
"Alabasta doesn't need to publicly withdraw from the World Government, and you don't need to pledge allegiance to me. You remain a core member state. You keep your standing. You keep your voice at the Reverie."
"And on that basis—if Alabasta ever faces true disaster, or if the Government turns its teeth on you—the Nefertari family can come to me for shelter."
"Or rather," he corrected lightly, "to the North Blue Fleet."
Darren's gaze slid to Igaram. "Captain of the Guard—do you happen to have a coin on you?"
Igaram froze. After a beat, he fumbled in his pocket and produced a silver coin, handing it over with a trembling hand.
Darren flipped it into the air. Electricity crackled across his fingertips.
Under Igaram's stunned stare, the coin softened, melted, and flowed like liquid metal—then tightened again, cooling as it reshaped itself in midair.
When Darren caught it, it was no longer the same coin.
Deep, severe engravings cut into its face. Two letters stood out, bold and unmistakable:
NF.
Cobra accepted it from Darren, his voice barely above a whisper as he read aloud. "NF… North Blue Fleet?"
"Exactly." Darren's smile was faint, but there was steel beneath it. "Consider it a token. A pledge."
"With this, the Nefertari family can use the World Economic News Paper's channels to reach the North Blue Fleet's liaison."
"Within reason," he added, unhurried, "they'll do everything they can to fulfill your requests."
"That's what I'm offering."
Cobra stared down at the coin in his palm.
It still carried a trace of warmth. He barely felt it.
"A second basket…" he murmured. "In other words… insurance for Alabasta."
"Precisely." Darren's chuckle was soft, pleased. "If Alabasta ever faces an enemy you can't stop—whether it's a Shichibukai or a legend out of the New World—I believe they'll think twice when you show them that coin."
"And if the World Government itself turns on you…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Then the North Blue Fleet can intervene."
"At the very least," he said, voice calm as stone, "we can ensure millions of your citizens live."
As he spoke, the small coin in Cobra's hand suddenly felt impossibly heavy—like a mountain pressed into his palm.
If anyone else had offered him terms like this, Cobra would have dismissed it on the spot as arrogance bordering on insanity.
But this wasn't anyone else.
It was Rogers Darren.
The "King of the North Blue," the man even the World Government and the Gorosei couldn't move.
If showing this coin truly guaranteed assistance from the North Blue Fleet…
Then Alabasta had just obtained a staggeringly valuable safeguard.
Any Shichibukai—or any New World titan—would have to weigh the North Blue Fleet's firepower and Darren's thunderous retaliation before daring to lay a finger on Alabasta.
After all, it was common knowledge: Rogers Darren was vindictive, ruthlessly rational… and completely unhinged.
Cobra's heartbeat quickened.
He didn't want to admit how quickly his mind had settled—but it had.
This was an absurdly favorable deal.
No public betrayal. No oath. No visible price.
"All you want…" Cobra asked, lips barely moving, "…is information?"
"Yes," Darren said, grinning. "Just a little information."
To be continued...