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As soon as Alex finished speaking, Smoker finally succumbed to his injuries and lost consciousness.
"Captain Smoker!"
The surrounding Marine soldiers cried out in shock upon seeing their superior defeated.
Yet, despite their concern, they dared not approach, too fearful of Alex and his crew's strength.
"You're not killing him?"
Sir Crocodile lifted his venomous hook and asked indifferently.
"What's the point of killing someone like him?" Alex responded casually. "If word gets out to the New World, people will think we enjoy picking on the weak."
In truth, Alex had no real desire to see Smoker dead.
Despite his stubborn nature and misguided sense of justice, Smoker was one of the few Marines who genuinely upheld righteousness. His only flaw was his inability to recognize his own limits—hence why he always ended up in situations like this.
Moreover, the East Blue's Marine forces were already pathetically weak. If he eliminated its top officer, the region would completely fall into the hands of pirates, something Alex had no intention of allowing.
Besides, he was on the verge of negotiations with the World Government and Marine Headquarters. Killing a Marine officer now would only worsen the situation, making them even less inclined to deal with him.
After careful thought, he decided to spare Smoker.
"Tch, so you're letting this guy live. What about the rest of these grunts?"
Crocodile sounded disappointed.
He had already lost all his former prestige. The once-feared Warlord of the Sea was now just another member of an up-and-coming pirate crew.
The other Warlords were probably laughing at him behind his back.
Taking down a Logia-type Marine officer—even if just a branch captain—would have made headlines. It could have salvaged a shred of his reputation.
"Leave them be," Alex warned coldly. "I still have use for them."
Then, he stepped toward the group of terrified Marines.
Seeing him approach, the soldiers stiffened in fear. Some of them trembled so violently that their teeth chattered.
"You're going to do something for me," Alex said slowly, his voice carrying weight.
"If you succeed, your precious Captain Smoker will be fine. But if you fail…"
He paused, letting the silence hang heavy in the air.
"Then the Marines of Loguetown will be buried here, just like Roger was."
The entire plaza fell into a deathly silence.
Not a single Marine doubted that he would carry out his threat.
Finally, a middle-aged officer, seemingly the leader of the remaining soldiers, gathered his courage and spoke up.
"What do you want us to do? If it's something illegal, we'd rather die than comply!"
Though fear gripped him, he refused to betray his duty as a Marine.
"Unbelievable," Crocodile sneered, stepping forward to teach the man a lesson.
But Alex raised a hand, stopping him.
"It's nothing too difficult," Alex said. "Frankly, you lot are too weak to be of much use anyway. I just need you to find someone for me."
"Find someone?" The Marine officer's tone eased slightly. "Who?"
"His name is Bartolomeo."
Alex described him in detail: spiky green hair, an eye tattoo under his right eye, a nose ring, and a face resembling a demon. He wore a purple coat with a skull design on the back, checkered pants, and a black semi-circle tattoo on his chest. He also carried a short blade at his waist.
"He speaks with a distinct dialect, adding 'beh' at the end of his sentences, and his laugh is 'Hehahaha!' If you see someone like that, it's him."
Crocodile and the others exchanged confused glances.
None of them had heard of this person.
Even Crocodile, once a Warlord, had no recollection of him—meaning this Bartolomeo was not someone of great renown.
So why was Alex going out of his way to find him?
"Do you want us to capture him and bring him here?" the officer asked cautiously.
Alex chuckled.
"Hah, you guys wouldn't stand a chance. Let's be real—your Captain Smoker wouldn't be able to lay a finger on him either."
His eyes narrowed slightly, a cold glint flashing in them.
"Just deliver a message. I'll be waiting at the tavern nearby for the rest of the day. If he doesn't come see me by midnight, he and his little gang can forget about seeing the sunrise tomorrow."
The Marine officer swallowed hard.
Then, without hesitation, he turned to his men and shouted, "Spread out! Search every inch of Loguetown! Find this man!"
"Yes, sir!"
The remaining Marines, still shaken but obedient, scattered in all directions.
The officer quickly rushed over to Smoker's unconscious form, lifting him up with the help of another soldier.
Alex didn't stop them. Instead, he led his crew toward a nearby tavern.
The bartender had witnessed the entire ordeal, and as Alex approached, his legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed in fear.
"What are you panicking for?" Alex snapped.
"Get us some good food and drink."
The bartender scrambled to his feet and rushed inside to prepare their meal, not daring to delay.