Operation Utopia was unfolding exactly as planned.
Or at least, that's what Crocodile tried to tell himself as he stared at the reports piling up on his desk.
What he didn't know was that most of his subordinates had already abandoned ship. Of his once-mighty organization, only three officer agent teams remained even marginally loyal.
And one of those was about to disappear.
Bon Kurei quietly slipped away from Rain Dinners. Nobody knew where he went. Nobody even noticed he was gone until hours later.
With his departure, the plan to impersonate King Cobra and issue inflammatory orders evaporated like water in the desert sun. But even without Bon Kurei's involvement, the war was already on the verge of breaking out.
Three million people. Just that number alone was enough to make the nobility of Arabasta tremble in their beds at night.
The royal army numbered only three hundred thousand troops, and that figure was from three days ago. Since then, as the rebel movement had grown in size and legitimacy, even families of royal soldiers had begun joining the cause. Some estimates suggested the king's forces might not even reach three hundred thousand anymore, with desertion rates climbing by the hour.
Even if they somehow maintained their full strength, the ten-to-one numerical advantage was crushing. Sure, the rebels were mostly untrained civilians and farmers who'd never held a weapon before. But when you had ten people mobbing every trained soldier, professional training only went so far.
Quantity had a quality all its own.
---
Inside the royal palace, the atmosphere was tense.
Cobra sat upon his throne, looking down at the assembled nobility. These were the same men who had given him endless headaches over the years, the ones who'd been unruly and obstructive, who'd set obstacles before every reform he'd tried to implement.
But now? Their arrogance was gone.
They stood before him with worried faces, some sporting dark circles under their eyes. A few looked so haggard and worn down they seemed ready to collapse where they stood.
"Your Majesty, please bring Princess Vivi back," one noble pleaded.
"Yes, Your Majesty," another chimed in desperately. "The princess has made her point. This... this display has gone far enough."
"It's not too late to reverse course," a third added, wringing his hands. "We can still salvage this situation if we act now."
"Princess Vivi has already proven her strength and capability," said an older nobleman. "We're prepared to cooperate with her proposals going forward. Even the conditions we previously refused, we'll accept them now. All of them."
The nobles continued their pleading, each one trying to outdo the others in demonstrating their flexibility and willingness to compromise.
Cobra simply watched them in silence.
Finally, one of them cracked under the pressure of that judging gaze.
"Cobra!" The shout came from Poisson, whose face had turned red. Compared to the others, he seemed to have more confidence. "What exactly do you mean by this silence?! Or do you think that because Vivi is destined to be queen in the future, you can just sit back and relax?!"
Cobra's eyes shifted to focus on Poisson. "No. She will not be queen."
"Huh?!"
The assembled nobility stood there stunned, trying to process what they'd just heard.
Then their expressions began to shift in different directions. Those who looked conflicted were clearly assuming that Cobra had lost control of Vivi, that he couldn't call her back even if he wanted to.
But another group's faces changed in a much sharper way.
"That's impossible! That's IMPOSSIBLE!" one noble protested. "Then why are you so calm? Your daughter is overthrowing your country!"
"You're lying! You're deceiving us!" another shouted.
"Cobra! You're not fit to be king!"
"He's right, you're unworthy!"
"Announce your abdication now! Step down before you drag us all into the abyss with you!"
The calls for abdication grew louder, more insistent, as the nobles who'd been planning this exact scenario sensed their moment had arrived.
Looking at the crowd before him, and at Poisson's smug expression, Cobra sighed.
Did they really not understand? As long as he remained king, the rebel army would hold off for at least another day out of respect for the throne itself, if not for him personally. But if he abdicated, what then? Did they think his stepping down would magically dissolve a three-million-strong movement that had tasted hope for the first time in years?
"Very well," he said quietly. "I accept."
Behind him, Igaram and the royal guard showed no reaction. Clearly, they'd seen this coming.
The ease with which he agreed left the nobles stunned. They'd expected rage, maybe even a violent crackdown. They'd prepared speeches for that scenario. But this calm acceptance threw all their plans into disarray.
Poisson, however, wasn't thrown off balance. He'd anticipated this possibility.
"Since Cobra has abdicated, then it's time to select a new king!" he announced loudly, sweeping his gaze around the chamber. Each person who caught his gaze quickly looked away, unwilling to challenge him.
His lips curled into a satisfied smile. Everyone present was either his ally or someone whose power base was too weak to oppose him. Under these circumstances, resistance was impossible.
Watching this farce unfold, Cobra sighed and shook his head slightly. He turned to leave, having no interest in watching the coronation of his successor. But before he could take more than a few steps, Poisson's men moved to block his path.
"Cobra," Poisson called out. "You are no longer king. According to tradition, you must hand over all royal secrets and hidden knowledge before you leave."
Cobra turned back to face Poisson. "Are you certain you want that?"
For a moment, Poisson felt the weight of true royal authority bearing down on him. Years of ruling a kingdom had given Cobra a presence that didn't simply disappear with a title. Poisson found himself wanting to take a step back.
But then he remembered, he was king now. Or would be, once the ceremony was complete. That realization steadied his nerve.
"This is tradition. Whether you wish to or not, you must speak."
"Guards!" he barked, trying to command the Royal Guard through his new supposed authority.
His words fell into silence. The guards standing at attention along the palace pillars didn't move. They didn't even acknowledge he'd spoken.
Veins began to bulge on his forehead as his face reddened.
"I am the king now!"
Igaram responded, "Lord Poisson, while you have received recognition from the nobility, the official succession ceremony has not been completed. At present, you cannot command the Royal Guard."
Poisson glared at Igaram, then turned back to Cobra. "Even without the ceremony, tradition dictates you should tell me the royal secrets!"
"Complete the succession ceremony, and you'll naturally learn what you need to know." With that, Cobra strode away.
The palace chamber was left with only the new "king" and his followers. As for the Royal Guard, they turned in perfect unison and followed Cobra out.
Poisson stood there, watching them go. He began shouting and cursing, hurling threats at the departed guards, smashing decorative vases against the walls.
But it was all meaningless noise. Fury without power behind it.
The news that King Cobra had abdicated in favor of Poisson spread through Arabasta's nobility, reaching every corner of the kingdom within hours.
Some suggested they should simply arrest Cobra and force him to cooperate. But with Arabasta's most elite fighting force having departed at his side, what could anyone actually do? The Royal Guard was legendary for a reason, and none of the nobles had private forces that could match them.
They were powerless.
---
Igaram walked beside the former king. He felt conflicted as he watched Cobra stride forward with an almost carefree air.
"Your Majesty..."
"Just call me by name, Igaram," Cobra interrupted gently. "I'm no longer king."
Igaram fell silent, then forced himself to try. "Cobra... Your Majesty..."
He shook his head. "I've called you that for so many years. I can't change it overnight."
"Haha, you'll get used to it eventually."
"Are you really not planning to do anything?" Igaram asked. "To just let them have the throne?"
Cobra stopped walking and turned to look at the Royal Guards following behind them.
"Vivi has found a new path. One that may be better than the system we have now. For you and the others, it will bring unimaginable change. But I trust her, and I trust all of you. In the future, you'll still serve Arabasta, not the throne, but the country itself."
The guards listened in silence, as though they were hearing a man's final words.
"Your Majesty..."
"Igaram, walk with me. As a friend, not a subordinate," Cobra said more softly,
The other guards understood the dismissal. One by one, they fell back, giving their king, former king, the privacy he'd requested.
What was said between them during that walk, no one knew. They traveled far from the palace, deep into the city where ordinary citizens lived their daily lives.
When Igaram finally returned hours later, his steps were heavy, his shoulders bowed.
"Where is His Majesty?" Pell and Chaka, the two vice-captains of the guard, immediately approached.
"His Majesty has left."
"Left? Where to? He's in danger now! If Poisson and his faction find out—"
"Which is exactly why you must keep this secret. No one can know where he's gone," Igaram interrupted firmly.
Both vice-captains stared at him in shock, slowly understanding what this means.