Chapter 122: Galen’s Condition

"..."

Robin fell into a brief silence. This was quite possibly the most bizarre boss she had ever encountered. She suddenly felt an ominous foreboding regarding this mission. Yet, under Garen’s slightly impatient gaze, she decided to get straight to the point:

"Since you know my identity and Crocodile’s true goals, you must also realize the role I can play."

"The Poneglyphs? The Ancient Weapons?" Garen’s expression shifted slightly.

"Exactly." Robin nodded, her tone calm and sincere. "Crocodile has no chance of obtaining the Poneglyphs anymore. If I want to study history, I have to rely on you. So, please, do not doubt my loyalty."

"Stop right there!"

Garen abruptly donned the stern, righteous mask of a government lackey and slammed his hand on the table in front of Robin. "I am a law-abiding, model citizen! How could I possibly collude with a rebel like you to study such contraband?"

Robin was stunned. She hadn't expected such a blunt refusal, so she tried a different approach: "But it is the Ancient Weapon, Pluton..."

"Not interested!" Garen’s expression remained unchanged as he waved a hand impatiently. "Go back and tell Crocodile that trying to drag me into the mud with these tactics won't work! I won't let him get that kind of leverage over me!"

"Uh..." Robin was struggling to keep up. Neither she nor Crocodile had considered that if Garen accepted her, Crocodile could simply adopt Garen’s own tactics and report them to the authorities.

"You're overthinking it..." Realizing Garen’s line of reasoning, Robin tried to persuade him with a helpless sigh. "In the eyes of the World Government, a Warlord of the Sea like him is far more conspicuous than you. Even if he wanted to target you, he wouldn't risk his own life."

She tried to make her expression look as sincere as possible, expertly spinning a web of lies. "I truly want to cooperate with you. I am absolutely not acting under Crocodile’s orders."

"Truly?" Garen gave her a meaningful look, then hinted, "I have no interest in Poneglyphs; they are a minefield in themselves, so that hardly counts as sincerity. If you want me to trust you, you need to offer something I actually care about."

With that, Garen fixed a piercing stare on her.

"Something you actually care about?"

Robin’s face changed slightly. She was merely an archaeologist with a pretty face; aside from her research, her only capital was her beauty. Seeing Garen’s gaze, which seemed to bore into her, she felt an immediate sense of danger. This feeling made her want to pull up her collar, and she suddenly regretted locking the door.

Robin had drifted for years, using her wits to survive on the edge of life and death. She had seen countless men covet her beauty. But for her, even for the sake of survival or her dream of studying history, there was a bottom line she would never cross. If she allowed herself to become a plaything, life would have no meaning.

Garen’s aggressive gaze clearly violated that boundary. She began to assess her situation: alone in the enemy's stronghold, facing a powerhouse whom even Crocodile treated with caution—a man who had demonstrated the ability to completely ignore the powers of her Flower-Flower Fruit. This was an enemy she could not fight.

Unlike Crocodile, a cold-blooded schemer who only drooled over Ancient Weapons, Garen—who was constantly surrounded by beautiful girls and had used "underhanded tactics" to force Princess Vivi to marry him—was clearly not a conventional schemer.

"This is bad..." Robin tensed, a sense of despair rising within her. In her desperation, she decided to gamble everything.

"You..." Garen was about to state his terms, but before he could finish the word, he was interrupted. Two hands sprouted from his shoulder pauldrons and, with a sharp *crack*, twisted his neck. Robin knew this wouldn't cause lasting damage, but it might buy her a moment. She immediately sprouted arms near the window, threw it open, and extended seven or eight hands to form a "rope." As soon as the rope snagged her, it yanked her toward the window, intending to whisk her away.

"Decisive Strike!"

Garen grabbed a glowing greatsword and tapped the hands still gripping his neck. The "rope" of arms instantly went limp and collapsed, and Robin, who hadn't yet cleared the room, crashed heavily to the floor. Ignoring the pain, she looked up in horror: her Devil Fruit powers were gone!

"Good thing it only lasts two seconds..."

"This is just too bizarre..." Garen looked helplessly at the two hands still draped over his shoulders—because of the silence effect from his Decisive Strike, the hands Robin had manifested could neither be removed nor controlled; they just hung there limply. Garen felt a chill run down his spine.

Suppressing his discomfort, he walked over to the fallen Robin, planted his greatsword in front of her, and asked irritably, "I hadn't even finished stating my terms! Why did you suddenly attack me?!"

Robin bit her lip, her body trembling on the floor. As the two seconds of silence passed, she regained her power, but she merely dissipated the arms and sat there, frozen in despair.

She realized she could not escape.

At that moment, the locked door was suddenly kicked open. Nami and Vivi rushed in. They hadn't gone far, and upon hearing the commotion, they had immediately hurried back. When they entered, they saw Garen looming over Robin with his greatsword; Robin’s wide-brimmed hat had fallen, her long black hair was disheveled, and her shirt collar was torn in a way that looked quite suggestive.

Worse, after a brief moment of silence, Robin gritted her teeth and snapped at Garen: "Give up! I will never sell my body to you, no matter what!"

"What?!" Nami, who had been skeptical, immediately glared at Garen with pure fury, while Vivi shot him a look of utter disbelief and resentment.

"Uh?" Garen was flabbergasted. He waved his hands frantically at Nami. "I never said I wanted her to... don't listen to her nonsense!"

Nami lowered her guard slightly. As the recognized "official wife" of the Debon Company, she knew that while Garen had little resistance to pretty girls, he wasn't the type to do something so base.

Garen turned to Robin, exasperated. "What exactly is your game? Is Crocodile's revenge plot to make my home life miserable?"

"The Sand Crocodile was right, you really are a hypocrite!" Robin glared at him. "You don't even want the Poneglyphs—what else could you possibly want from me?"

"I..." Garen said helplessly, "I want the Baroque Works, of course!"

"Huh?" Robin blinked. "But the Baroque Works isn't..." She suddenly realized something, and her expression changed.

"Exactly," Garen explained. "To keep up his act as a hero, Crocodile never reveals his identity to the agents. Everything is issued by 'Miss All Sunday.' The agents don't know who their boss is; they only know to take orders from you, the secretary."

Garen looked at her and smiled. "In other words, the real boss of the organization is you!"