In the square, another round of brutal training began.
Queen was in high spirits, snapping photos nonstop with his cara.
It wasn't that he was particularly interested in a few bare-bottod Gifters—he was just practicing his photography skills.
Ever since Caesar's words last night had jolted him awake, Queen felt as if he had suddenly awakened a new talent.
"I'm going to beco the man who conquers photography!"
Speaking of which, it was quite frustrating.
He had taken so many photos last night, thinking he was about to strike it rich.
But when he developed them this morning, Queen nearly choked on his anger.
Out of ten photos, eight were pitch black, capturing nothing at all.
The only clear ones left were of Beckman hugging Crocodile, and Isaac and Sunbell without their underwear.
As for the rest—completely black, utterly indecipherable.
Just as Queen was sulking, he noticed Crocodile among the crowd, watching Moria's training.
Instantly, Queen's eyes glead with mischief.
He stowed his cara, pulled out his treasured photo, and sidled over quietly.
"Ahem."
Standing behind Crocodile, Queen deliberately coughed.
Crocodile turned and, recognizing Queen, he didn't dare to be dismissive.
He nodded politely.
"Ah, Queen the Plague. What brings you here?"
Queen glanced around furtively, then flashed the photo in front of Crocodile before snatching it back just as quickly.
The movent was too fast—Crocodile barely caught a glimpse of it, his face was blank with confusion.
'What was this about?'
Queen, however, wore a smug grin as he crossed his arms.
"Crocodile, I'll sell this photo back to you for two billion berries. How about it? You wouldn't want it plastered on the front page of Morgans' news, would you?"
"What photo?" Crocodile frowned.
"Hah? You didn't see it? Don't play dumb. You just want a second look so you can destroy it, right? I'm not that stupid," Queen sneered.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Crocodile grew even more bewildered, completely lost as to what this fat man was up to.
Seeing his genuine confusion, Queen cautiously took out the photo again, holding it up in front of himself for Crocodile to see.
Crocodile squinted—then his expression froze, his entire body stiffening instantly.
In the photo, Beckman and he were embracing each other in an extrely ambiguous pose.
It wasn't just disgusting—it was downright eye-searing.
Watching Crocodile's utterly dumbfounded reaction, Queen's smugness soared.
He discreetly tucked the photo away and tilted his chin at Crocodile.
"Well? Crocodile, you wouldn't want this photo going public, would you?"
Crocodile's mouth fell open, the cigar between his lips dropping to the ground and bursting into sparks.
"You bastard! What did you do? This is fake!"
His face flushed a deep crimson, turning almost purple as he pointed at Queen and cursed.
The surrounding pirates, drawn by the commotion, turned their attention toward them.
Queen remained unruffled, putting on an exaggerated sigh.
"Tsk tsk, I risked a lot to capture this, Crocodile. If you don't want showing it to everyone right now, I suggest we find a bar and have a proper chat about this."
Crocodile glared fiercely at the surrounding pirates, his heart boiling with rage yet feeling sowhat powerless as he followed Queen toward a bar on the street.
...
Upon entering the bar, they found it already occupied by many pirates, though there were still higher-end private rooms available.
The mont Queen stepped inside, he greeted the bartender familiarly.
"Deba, the best private room you've got. Also, bring out your finest liquor and most expensive gourt set."
"Right away, Lord Queen! Will this be on the tab again?" The bartender responded cautiously.
Queen snorted coldly, displeased. "You think I'd skip out on the bill? I'm a high-ranking officer of the Beast God Pirates! Besides, isn't food and drink free these days?"
Deba gave an awkward chuckle. "My mistake. I'll have them send over a few extra barrels later. Lord Queen, the free als are for those outsider pirates. For us Beast God Pirates mbers, the usual charges still apply. The expenses for hosting all these people are enormous—billions of berries every day."
"Good, you know your place." Queen waddled his massive bulk toward the private room, then jerked a thumb at Crocodile and added.
"He's paying."
Behind him, Crocodile's face darkened as he roughly detached his golden hook and slamd it onto the counter.
Deba's eyes lit up greedily as he picked up the hook, which weighed over ten kilograms.
"My heavens, such extravagance—solid gold! This must be at least eighteen, no, nearly twenty kilos!"
Queen led the way into the private room.
Crocodile followed closely, his face twisted in resentnt like a wronged wife.
Bartender Deba watched the two with wide eyes, blinking rapidly.
Suddenly, as if realizing sothing, his throat bobbed and he instinctively clenched his backside.
'Guh... Could it be?'
A vivid scene flashed through Deba's mind.
...
Queen, his face twisted into a leer, oily sweat glistening on his flabby cheeks, stared hungrily at a struggling Crocodile.
With a single flick of his thick fingers, he tore open Crocodile's outer garnts.
"Ya.. yaro..." Crocodile flushed red with sha, resisting yet yielding.
"Go on, scream. No one's coming to save you, hahaha!"
...
Slap.
Deba slapped himself, cursing inwardly for letting his imagination run wild.
Just then, a waiter approached with fine liquor, heading toward the private room.
Deba quickly cleared his throat, snatched the tray, and said sternly.
"Lord Queen is a high-ranking officer—we can't afford any negligence. I'll deliver this myself."
With that, he scurried to the private room door but didn't enter imdiately, instead pricking up his ears to listen.
Soon, voices drifted out.
"How could a high-ranking officer of the Beast God Pirates stoop to sothing so disgusting?" Crocodile snarled in a low, trembling voice.
"Disgusting?" Deba's eyes widened.
"Hehehe, what's disgusting about it, Crocodile? It's your dirty little secret with Beckman. I just happened to snap a few choice photos, that's all. What, don't want them back?"
Queen's lewd voice rang out, dripping with unmistakable smugness.
"Crocodile and Beckman's scandal? Holy mother of jesus, that's so juicy stuff!"
The bar owner Deba's mouth gaped open to its limit like a hippopotamus in heat.
-----------------------------
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