Oliver's face was grim as he delivered the news, trapped in the middle of the chaotic scene.
"He likely fled toward the desert beyond," added Arlan, equally tense.
Aeridar's brow furrowed in frustration. If Iman's betrayal was real, it wasn't just a matter of losing a crew member, far worse was the potential exposure of their secret plan involving the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
"That bastard... he actually dared to betray me!"
Crocodile's fury erupted. Having confirmed Iman's betrayal, the Warlord roared and swept his right arm. A massive wave of sand lashed out from his hand.
A massive sand blade slashed through dozens of meters of air in an instant, cleaving a four-story building in two at an angle. The upper half crashed down with a thunderous boom, sending dust and debris flying in all directions.
"I'll hunt him down myself. He'll wish he were dead."
Crocodile turned to storm out, but Aeridar stepped in his path.
"What?" Crocodile's gaze turned murderous, as though he might tear Aeridar apart if he didn't offer a perfect reason.
But Aeridar held his ground, unfazed by the deadly aura.
"You're the leader. You shouldn't personally chase down every traitor. Besides, this isn't just your matter anymore."
Crocodile scowled. "Then what do you suggest?"
"Leave it to my people. Those two are already itching to move." Aeridar gestured toward Arlan and Oliver, still surrounded by Baroque Works agents.
Crocodile's eyes narrowed. He looked back and forth between Aeridar and the two men. Then, in a booming voice, he shouted:
"Everyone, listen up! Zidani Iman has betrayed me. If anyone sees him, kill on sight. If not, I'll feed you to the Bananawanis!"
Even if they found it hard to believe that one of the top officers, Iman, had turned traitor, no one dared question Crocodile's word. The agents who had mistakenly surrounded Oliver and Arlan quickly dispersed.
Aeridar stepped up to the two men. "He's yours."
Simple words, but they carried the weight of command.
"Understood. Leave him to us," came the equally curt reply from Arlan and Oliver, both of them grim-faced.
In the next instant, they vanished into the night like twin shadows.
That night, Rainbase was anything but calm. Crocodile personally took charge, ordering arrests of Iman's known associates. Many were captured. Many more were killed. Terrified civilians stayed locked indoors, not daring to step outside.
By dawn, the sun rose over a desert chilled by a night that could freeze a man to death. As the temperature began to rise, the cold slowly gave way to searing heat.
A sudden explosion lit the horizon. Black smoke billowed as a sand dune erupted in a fiery blast, scattering clouds of yellow dust in every direction.
A flash of steel followed—a brilliant slash ripped through the ground, carving a gash dozens of meters long into the desert floor.
In a shallow basin between dunes, three figures now stood locked in a deadly standoff.
"Well, well. When did you two become Crocodile's lapdogs?"
The speaker wore a black eyepatch over his left eye, a massive sword slung casually in one hand. It was none other than the "One-Eyed Ogre," Zidani Iman.
"We're just following our captain's orders." The one answering was a sharp-eyed young man with short, blue hair—Gilbert Arlan.
"Crocodile himself wanted to handle you," Oliver added coldly. In his hands were Nagamitsu and Yubashiri. "But I wanted to test your swordsmanship myself, and personally take your head."
"Heh. And here I thought Crocodile was on the same level as your captain. You speak of him so casually."
Oliver sneered. "He's not my boss."
"Well, I'm flattered. The two top officers of the Chris Pirates, your first mate and head of combat, coming after me? What an honor."
Iman gave a half-mocking bow, wincing as his hand pressed a bloody wound on his shoulder. Smoke and scorch marks covered his ragged figure, proof of the desperate battle that had unfolded.
He wasn't foolish. After days of working alongside them, Iman had seen firsthand how terrifyingly strong the Chris Pirates' officers truly were. Each one was monstrous, and their captain? He had once landed a hit on Crocodile himself, a Logia-type Devil Fruit user.
"No choice. When we caught wind you leaked intel to the Marines, we had to act fast. Luckily, we intercepted the agents before the information got out." Arlan's voice grew colder as he stared Iman down.
Iman knew the desert well, and he had used that knowledge to escape deep into the night. It had taken Arlan and Oliver half the night to track him this far. And even now, Iman refused to stand his ground, he was still trying to flee, dodging every engagement.
"Never thought you'd betray Crocodile and side with the Marines. Or were you always a spy planted by them?" Oliver spun his swords and narrowed his eyes.
"You nearly blew our captain's entire plan... unforgivable." Arlan's gaze sharpened. The very thought made his blood run cold. Had they not stumbled upon Iman last night, the betrayal might never have been discovered. The Marines, and worse, the World Government, would've uncovered the entire scheme. Their captain, Aeridar, would've lost his only chance of becoming a Warlord.
Because to the World Government, pawns were pawns. And if a pawn tried to become a player? They wouldn't hesitate to erase it, him, or all of them.
"Spy? Please." Iman bared his teeth in a grin, white against the blood on his face. "It was just a deal. I stumbled across a Marine intel post here in Rainbase. Sold them a few scraps. They paid me. Canceled my bounty. That's it."
He shrugged. "If Crocodile had let slip even a bit more about his true plan, his little infiltration of Alabasta, I could've sold that for a fortune. Might've even scored a desk job with the Navy."
Oliver spat. "So it wasn't just the money. You wanted to be a Marine too? A mutt for the World Government?"
Iman shook his head, the grin never leaving his face.
"No, no. I don't want to serve anyone. Not Crocodile. Not the Marines. Not the World Government."
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