Smoker sat in the cold metal cage, his back against the bars.
He could still feel the effects of the Seastone pressing down on him, stealing away all his strength.
It wasn't just physical. The cage made him feel powerless, like every moment inside it chipped away at his spirit.
Outside, the sounds of fighting filled the air.
He heard shouting. The roar of Mr. 1's blades. Someone yelling in pain. Another blast shook the ground nearby.
Smoker tightened his jaw and glared at the bars in front of him.
He had already tried everything he could think of. He had tried turning into smoke, but the Seastone stopped him from using his powers.
He had swung his jitte against the bars again and again, but they didn't even bend.
Now he was trying new ideas — creative ones.
He took the tip of his jitte and tried to hook a rock lying just outside the cage, hoping to pull it toward him. The rock moved a little, but not enough to grab.
He pushed his boot through the bottom of the cage and tried to dig into the sand, hoping to shake the bars loose. The sand shifted, but the cage didn't budge.
He grabbed the base of the bars and pulled as hard as he could. When that failed, he even bit one of the bars out of frustration.
Nothing worked.
He leaned back against the cage, breathing hard. His head tilted back.
"There has to be a way," he muttered.
All around him, the sounds of battle kept going. His team was still out there, still fighting without him. He had never felt so useless.
---
Then, he heard a new sound.
It was heavy. Like large footsteps in the sand.
Smoker opened his eyes and turned his head.
Walking slowly toward him was a big tortoise. It was large, calm, and old — and it had a tiny cowboy hat on its head.
The tortoise didn't stop until it was right in front of the cage.
Then it made a strange noise — like a forceful cough.
"Gnrk—!"
It jerked its head forward, as if trying to spit something out.
PFFTH!
A bunch of paper burst out of its mouth — glossy pages that scattered onto the sand.
Smoker blinked. He reached through the bars and picked one up.
It was a photo.
His eyebrows twitched. "Is this… Robin in a swimsuit? What the hell—?"
He flipped it over. Another one. This time, a shot of Robin, reading in a hammock, long legs stretched out, a book in one hand.
Another photo fluttered down — Robin again, this time standing before a mirror, one leg bent slightly as she tried out some poses.
Smoker stared, stunned.
The tortoise immediately panicked. With a wild swing of its head, it swallowed the photos back up, making soft embarrassed squeaks.
"Oi," Smoker said, deadpan. "You collecting these or printing them?"
The tortoise gave a full-body shake, clearly mortified.
Smoker narrowed his eyes. He looked again at the hat, then at the shape of its shell. Something about it felt familiar.
"…Wait a second. That hat. I've seen that before."
He squinted, then slowly raised his eyebrows. "No way. You're that tortoise… Banchi, right? Robin's old pet from her Baroque Works days."
The tortoise gave a proud little nod, as if pleased to be recognized.
Smoker snorted. "Figures. This must be why she'd ditch you in Alabasta."
Banchi looked briefly offended — then coughed again, this time with more force.
Clink.
A shiny metal key clattered onto the sand.
Smoker blinked.
"…You're kidding."
He reached through the bars and picked up the key. The tortoise looked up at him sheepishly.
Smoker sighed. "Robin sent you, didn't she?"
The tortoise nodded, still looking embarrassed.
Smoker smirked faintly as he slipped the key into the lock.
Click.
The cage door creaked open.
"She really is a strange woman," he said. "She's working with Crocodile, but she doesn't want him to get the 'treasure.'"
---
Not far away, the Baroque Works agents all turned in surprise.
Mr. 1's eyes narrowed. "That cage is open."
Mr. 2 spun dramatically, his jaw dropping. "How did he get out!? That was real Seastone!"
Miss Doublefinger's gaze sharpened. "This is a problem."
Across the battlefield, Smoker's team looked up and saw their captain standing once more. Some of them cheered weakly. Others simply gasped, too tired to speak.
---
Tashigi was covered in cuts. Her hands shook as she leaned on her sword to stay upright.
When she saw the smoke rising in the air, her eyes widened.
"Captain Smoker…?" she whispered.
Smoker stepped out into the open, walking calmly. His coat blew in the wind, and smoke rose from his body.
"Captain!" Tashigi called. "You're free — how did you—!?"
But someone else shouted over her voice.
"Captain Smoker!!"
It was Vivi, running toward him with tears in her eyes. Karoo limped behind her, feathers ruffled and bloody.
"My father is still in the palace!" she cried. "He's in the throne room — please save him!"
Smoker looked down at her.
"King Cobra is in the royal palace?" he asked.
"Yes," Vivi said, her voice shaking. "But Crocodile is going there now. He'll kill him — I know he will! Crocodile is after something in the palace. Some secret treasure."
Tashigi walked up beside her. She was bleeding from her thigh, but she stood shakily.
"Princess Vivi is right. You're the only one who can reach him in time," she said. "We can hold off Baroque Works a little longer. But if Crocodile gets what he wants…"
"…then it'll be too late," Vivi finished.
Smoker looked at them both. He saw the fear in Vivi's eyes, and the pain on Tashigi's face.
Then he looked at the battlefield behind them. His team was still standing, even though they were injured and outnumbered.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"…If Crocodile gets to King Cobra now, Alabasta is finished," he said.
He looked at them one last time.
"Don't die."
Then the heavy smoke gushed around him.
"I'll stop him. Then I'll come back."
With that, a thick cloud of smoke blasted from beneath his feet, and he launched into the air, disappearing into the sky like a rocket.
---
The desert flew by below him.
Smoker soared across the sand dunes, smoke trailing behind him like a tail. He passed broken towers. Empty villages. Long-dried rivers.
And in the distance, standing tall on the cliffside, was the royal palace.
Smoker narrowed his eyes.
He flew faster.
CRASH!
He flew straight through a tall window, landing hard on the marble floor of the palace.
He stood up quickly, looking around.
The hallway was quiet.
Very quiet.
He started walking forward.
A guard was lying against the wall nearby — his body was dried up, like something had sucked the moisture out of him. His mouth was open in a frozen scream.
Smoker kept walking.
He passed another guard. Then another.
All dead.
No sign of a fight. No blood. Just bodies drained of all water inside them.
He reached a large door and pushed it open.
It creaked loudly.
Inside was the throne room.
At the far end, on the royal throne, sat King Cobra.
He was slumped forward with his eyes closed. His robes were stained with blood.
And at his feet lay Pell and Chaka — Alabasta's strongest protectors.
They weren't moving either.
Their bodies were pale and dry, like mummies.
The wind blew through the broken windows.
Smoker stepped into the room.
He looked at the king. Then at the fallen guardians.
There was no sign of Crocodile.
Just silence.
He was too late — and Crocodile was already gone.
Smoker clenched his fists.
"…How many more have to die before I catch that bastard?" he said quietly.