Crocodile’s Bounty at 81 million Berries

This amount predates the title. A Warlord's bounty is frozen: it stops being revised the day the title is granted, and Crocodile received his in his early twenties. It was shortly afterwards, already a Warlord, that he went after Whitebeard in the New World and came away humiliated, a defeat that ended his dream of becoming Pirate King: it came too late to enter the figure. His wanted poster carries an unusual distinction as well: the word Sir is printed in front of his name, one of only six such titles the story has ever shown on a notice.

The Warlord seat brought him the only thing about it he wanted. Crocodile spent the following years assembling Baroque Works — over two thousand people, two hundred Billions and eighteen hundred Millions, all under codenames and forbidden to address their superiors. His own identity was the best-kept secret inside his own company; apart from his vice-president, nobody knew whom they worked for, and the curious ended up in the Bananawani lake beneath Rain Dinners.

The work itself was patient. Drought manufactured with Dance Powder, towns wrecked and the blame laid at King Nefertari Cobra's door, rumours seeded until Arabasta rose against itself. At the far end of it lay an ancient weapon, Pluton, buried under the country.

That is what the seat was worth to him, and it was worth more than any sum. The World Government believed it was buying a pirate's loyalty; what it granted was a guarantee of never being counted again. Eighty-one million is the price of a rookie in his early twenties, and Crocodile arranged for it to be the last price anyone put on him for a very long while. Oda put a number on what that silence saved him: had the World Government known who ran Baroque Works, the amount would have at least doubled, to one hundred and sixty-two million.