"…It’s a tourist trap for pirates. Aside from some larger-name pirates… all familiar names… Not much in terms of bounties either."
His forefinger and thumb made a quick “swft” as they cut the cap clean off the cigar.
"I don’t expect us to have any trouble while we’re here. I’d hope that most of the people here—pirates and civilians alike—would know better than to try anything funny," he quipped, watching Daz work with the cigar a bit distractedly. Crocodile was lucky he had someone like the assassin around—where would he be otherwise?
As they continued down the street, the occasional passers-by scurrying out of the way, Daz solidly agreed but made no mention of it. With the cigar cleaned, he handed it to Crocodile distractedly. After flipping out his sunglasses and sliding them onto his face, he fished into his pocket and pulled out his own pack of matches.
"...Though, the Strawhats cause a mess wherever they are..." he mentioned, pausing on the street to wait for Crocodile to get comfortable before lighting the match. "...Anyone near is likely to get pulled in... Unless, of course..." He held up the match for his boss. "You're looking to get a headstart from here, while these rookies are resting..."
Coming from anyone else, that could have been a harmless comment. But the air had suddenly become more cautious, more sharp than the casual laze a few seconds before. This was Daz, after all. He didn't like the idea of idling around for nothing, no business, only procedure, after all that time. He doubted seriously, if only for a moment, that Crocodile sincerely had nothing to have with what was going on in the island.