As he walked leisurely down a deserted street, Crocodile raised an eyebrow in a fleeting moment of interest.
Ahead, he spotted a group he hadn't expected to see.
Miss All Sunday and Cobra, whom he had sent ahead, should have arrived at their destination by now. It seemed they had been delayed.
He found it bothersome, but he didn't judge it to be dangerous.
Crocodile didn't run or hide. Without even changing his walking pace, he approached them head-on.
Naturally, he stopped beside Miss All Sunday and Cobra. He had no choice, as the group standing ahead was deployed to block the road.
Wearing a thin smile, Crocodile addressed the man standing at the front.
"Oh, uninvited guests... What business do you have in a place like this? White Hunter Smoker-kun."
Standing at the head of a line of Marines with guns raised was Smoker, looking grim.
Smoke curled from the two cigars in his mouth as he glared at Crocodile with clear intent. He looked exactly like a wild dog—one preparing to bite without knowing its place.
Possessing ample composure, Crocodile easily brushed aside the anger radiating from the man. He could see the opponent was ready to fight at any moment, but he didn't view him as worthy. The difference in their strength was obvious.
He had heard the rumors. A wild dog with a promising future, exiled to the weakest sea because he lacked discipline. Looking at his eyes and the fact that he was here now, Crocodile found those rumors entirely convincing.
"I was looking for something, you see. stopped by to see if it was in this country... but it seems I've found something much bigger. What the hell is this situation?"
"I'll ask, just in case. 'What' do you mean?"
"It's not a situation that needs explaining step-by-step, is it? Right now, an unbelievable scene is unfolding before my eyes."
Smoker spoke with a quiet tone that barely concealed his irritation.
They both knew what he was trying to say. Explaining it was merely a prelude; a way to gauge the enemy's reaction while knowing full well what would happen next.
The ones on high alert were Smoker and his subordinates.
Before them stood a pirate of global renown and a wanted criminal who had been missing. And with them, bound and injured, was the King of Alabasta. It couldn't not be a crime.
Smoker could guess most of the circumstances, but the opponent was the worst possible match.
He knew he couldn't overlook this, but he also wondered if he could win a fight against him. Smoker wasn't foolish enough to ignore the odds, but as a Marine, retreating wasn't an option.
Shame at his own lack of power fueled his irritation.
Still, he faced Crocodile with a voice that feigned calm.
"The Hero of Alabasta, who should be protecting this country, has captured the injured King and is taking him somewhere alongside the 'Demon Child' who was supposed to be missing. Is this a dream, or just a sick joke?"
"I hate to retort, but surely you aren't stupid enough not to understand. If you want to play a boring game of Q&A, I could humor you... but I don't have the time right now. Sorry, but could we do this another time?"
"I can't let you do that."
Knowing it was reckless, Smoker finally drew his Jitte.
Standing beside him, Tashigi drew her sword, tense.
They were ready for battle. The Marines, too, nervously readied their weapons.
Seeing their tense posture, Miss All Sunday gave a small chuckle.
Cobra, forced to stand beside her, could only pray for them to run away.
"I never trusted the Shichibukai from the start... What are you plotting?"
"A scavenger hunt. And for that, I needed a collaborator."
"A collaborator you need to injure? Doesn't seem very friendly."
"And if so, what will you do? I doubt it, but do you intend to stop me?"
Crocodile provoked Smoker, whose fighting spirit was swelling.
Despite saying he had no time, the fact that Crocodile didn't try to flee was a clear declaration that this wouldn't take any time. Smoker must have realized that.
It was an overwhelmingly reckless challenge. But he couldn't abandon a captured King and run.
Understanding this was a death trap, his unit chose to fight.
"It seems I have to. As long as I am a Marine and you are a pirate."
"I'll sympathize with your cheap justice. Though it will shorten your lifespan."
Smoker's hand tightened around the handle of his Jitte.
Seeing that he was about to move, Crocodile deliberately looked away.
"Miss All Sunday. Take Cobra and go ahead."
"Oh, again? There are quite a lot of them, though."
"Surely you can handle brushing away some sparks."
With that, Crocodile began to walk forward. He was heading toward Smoker—or rather, toward the Marine unit deployed across the entire road—increasing the tension whether they liked it or not.
Smoker twisted his face, refusing to stay silent.
Against this man, numbers were useless. Furthermore, they had very little equipment effective against a Devil Fruit user.
I have to stop him myself. Smoker made his move.
Turning his lower body into smoke, he used the propulsion to blast toward Crocodile.
The tip of his Jitte was tipped with Seastone. Even against a Logia, it was an effective weapon.
He didn't expect it to hit easily, but if he could just draw his attention... Betraying Smoker's hope, the moment he arrived in front of him, Crocodile turned into sand and vanished. Because his entire body transformed into sand, the Jitte swung through empty air, and Smoker lost sight of him.
This was a desert country; sand was everywhere. It was an environment that drew out Crocodile's power to its fullest.
When he looked back with a bad feeling, his intuition proved correct.
A scream suddenly erupted from his unit. Several Marines had been slashed by a hook.
Smoker went pale and frantically reversed course, turning into smoke to fly through the air.
"Gyaah, aah...!!?"
"It hurts...!"
"Tch, my men—!"
He found the location. Crocodile was standing amidst the fleeing Marines. Blood dripped from the hook on his left arm, and five Marines lay on the ground.
Smoker nose-dived, closing in on Crocodile.
Looking up at the approaching figure with composure, the pirate grinned.
"Everyone get back! You can't fight him!"
"Smoker-san!"
"Do you think you can fight me?"
Watching Smoker assault him from the sky, Crocodile turned his right palm upward. A small sandstorm generated there, then explosively grew in size.
Smoker knew he was a Sand Human who ate the Suna Suna no Mi, but this was unexpected.
Intercepted by the blast, Smoker in his smoke form was blown away, and the surrounding Marines were knocked to the ground one after another.
Forced to the ground against his will, Smoker calmly performed a breakfall.
Before his eyes was a sandstorm that had grown massive in an instant. Bodies of Marines were being tossed into the air.
Beyond it, he saw Crocodile glance at him, smile meaningfully, and deliberately turn his back. The reason for turning his back was simple.
One was to provoke Smoker.
The other was to attack the Marines and lure him out again.
Another man was cut by the left hook. Even over the roar of the moving sandstorm, the screams were audible.
He couldn't ignore it.
Running without turning into smoke, Smoker shouted to his subordinate, Tashigi.
"Tashigi! Save the King! Rescue is the top priority!"
"Y-Yes!"
Hearing her reply to his shout, his thoughts steadied.
Even if there was a huge gap in strength, there were ways to fight. With the Seastone Jitte, it shouldn't be a situation where he couldn't win at all. What he needed was the desperate resolve to bridge the gap in power.
Thinking nothing of death, Smoker dove into the sandstorm to save his men, sprinting through the grit.
He closed the distance to Crocodile's back in no time. Sensing danger in the fact that the pirate wasn't turning around, he attacked.
He thrust the Jitte forward to stab with the tip.
Targeting the back, the easiest target. It had a larger surface area than the head, so it should be easier to hit.
The approach itself was easy, but the moment the Jitte was about to make contact, the body of sand shifted. A hole opened in that specific spot, allowing the Jitte to pass through without touching him.
A spectacle impossible unless he knew exactly where the attack would land beforehand.
Eyes widening, Smoker instantly retracted the Jitte.
As he braced himself, trying to hide his agitation and regain his stance, Crocodile turned around without haste, placing Smoker directly in front of him.
There was absolutely no sign that he felt threatened. He was even sneering at Smoker's actions.
Crocodile stopped moving and looked at him.
He knew an attack was coming. But Smoker couldn't move from that spot.
It didn't seem like he was thinking, 'I'm smoke, so I won't get hit.'
The reason he couldn't move was likely to draw attention. And simultaneously, because his body had stiffened from the overwhelming intimidation pricking his skin.
"White Hunter Smoker... I've heard rumors of you. You stood a head above the rest as a recruit, but I hear you were demoted to the East Blue. You really should listen to your superiors."
"What's your point?"
"I'm saying it's a waste. If you'd been trained at Headquarters, you might have been able to touch me without using that toy. The cause of your defeat is the few years you wasted in the weakest sea."
The sandstorm showed no sign of disappearing. In fact, it felt like it was growing in scale.
When Crocodile glanced at the tornado-like sandstorm, Smoker furrowed his brow.
"The sand is nice and dry. I'll give you credit for ignoring the skirmish in the plaza to try and take me down. But if you can't defeat me, that's just wasted effort."
"So you became a Shichibukai for this from the start? What the hell are you after?"
"Investigating that is your job, isn't it? Assuming you can, that is."
His right arm dissolved into sand—sara sara. Reflexively, Smoker tensed his entire body.
"I have no interest in your life. Whether you live or die, the events to follow will not change."
Watching Crocodile take a stance, Smoker met his gaze and felt sweat burst from his pores.
As expected of someone whose name was listed among the Shichibukai.
Facing him again, he was overwhelmed by a presence that was simply too massive. Smoker had taken down numerous bounties since coming to the Grand Line, but this was a different dimension.
Almost unconsciously, he was forced to wonder if his choice had been a mistake. The threat was that great.
The sandstorm was beginning to move gradually with the wind. But even if he noticed, there was virtually no way to stop it, and Smoker had no margin for error.
After the Marines had scattered from the area, Crocodile swung his right arm down.
A blade of sand raced forward in a straight line, without wavering. Released from Crocodile's arm, it ran along the ground, slicing through the very earth it touched, closing in on Smoker at high speed.
He took evasive action before he could think.
Exploding his lower body into smoke, he used the propulsion to escape quickly into the sky.
He saw with his own eyes how deeply the earth had been gouged. He understood it had considerable power.
Even if it was to analyze the enemy's strength, that split second of observation was fatal.
Before he knew it, Crocodile was right in front of him. Having turned his lower body to sand just like Smoker had turned to smoke, the pirate was flying, his hook raised. By the time Smoker gasped in surprise, the attack was upon him.
Normally, a direct physical blow or slash shouldn't hit a body of smoke.
Yet somehow, just as his bad premonition had warned, his skin was torn.
"Guh...!!?"
"S-Smoker-san!?"
Seeing Smoker bleeding in mid-air with his stance broken, a Marine screamed.
Hearing that voice, Tashigi almost turned around, stopping her neck movement at the last second. Ahead of her gaze stood Miss All Sunday, smiling gently.
Since Smoker had entrusted this to her, her job was to save Cobra. She had to focus.
With firm resolve, Tashigi held her sword in a middle stance.
"You can look back if you want. Are you sure?"
"My top priority is the rescue of civilians. Now, release that man."
"Unfortunately, I can't do that. I have reasons for doing this."
Miss All Sunday kept her composed expression, not letting go of Cobra's arm. Cobra was gagged and couldn't speak. It was impossible to stop these women.
Burning with a sense of duty, Tashigi's expression grew fierce.
She had the intel on this woman in her head, but letting her go wasn't an option.
"We cannot use guns. Please prioritize the safety of the hostage."
The Marines lowered their guns and stepped back, while the swordsmen formed a line.
Following behind Tashigi, they finished their preparations to fight at any moment.
Looking not at all troubled, Miss All Sunday sighed.
"Now! Release him!"
"I suppose I have no choice..."
Miss All Sunday crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"Treinta Fleur (Thirty Flower)."
As she extended her slender fingers, it felt as if flower petals were dancing in the air.
Behind the wary Tashigi, thirty Marines saw something inexplicable. Slender female arms sprouted from their own shoulders, moving with a will of their own.
All of them were horrified by the arms that weren't theirs, and many cried out.
By the time Tashigi sensed the anomaly and turned around, the arms growing from their shoulders had wrapped around the Marines' necks.
"Strangle!"
Thirty arms choked thirty necks simultaneously. Strange cracks popped, and muffled groans overlapped.
The Marines dropped their swords and fell; thirty men lost consciousness at once.
Tashigi watched the moment vividly, losing her words.
Miss All Sunday was a user of the Hana Hana no Mi.
She could sprout parts of her body anywhere within range. Even another person's body was no exception; if they were within range, attacking from a blind spot was easy.
Visible places, invisible places—escaping her was never simple.
Miss All Sunday smiled serenely.
Though flustered by her subordinates' defeat, Tashigi instinctively gritted her teeth, suppressing any sound, determined to focus on her mission. She pointed her sword at Miss All Sunday again.
Smoker was buying time. If she didn't save the King in the meantime, his effort would be wasted.
Retreat was not allowed. There was only one path to choose.
"Surprisingly calm. I suppose you have some experience."
"Don't mock me...! I won't let you have your way!"
"Impossible. You cannot beat me."
"Even so!"
Tashigi sprinted furiously toward Miss All Sunday.
She charged forward with single-minded focus, intending to thrust her sword. Killing the fear of not knowing when an attack would come, she stomped firmly on the ground.
Betting her life. Knowing the opponent's strength, it was a charge that didn't fear death.
Miss All Sunday crossed her arms in front of her chest again.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she quietly used her ability.
"Seis Fleur (Six Flower)."
"Eh!?"
Two arms sprouted from the ground and grabbed her legs. Simultaneously, hands sprouted from her waist to grab both her wrists, and hands from her back grabbed her neck.
The sword she had been gripping firmly was slapped away and fell to the ground.
Shocked, Tashigi was immobilized without a chance to resist, rendered speechless.
Miss All Sunday began to walk briskly.
She didn't rush; her figure looked almost elegant. There were still many Marines left, but seeing thirty of their comrades fall instantly terrified them. Furthermore, the fact that Tashigi, who was stronger than them, had been restrained left them paralyzed.
Arriving in front of Tashigi, Miss All Sunday slowly reached out.
Her left hand touched Tashigi's head.
"Power, speed, and numbers. None of them mean anything to me."
"Ugh...!!?"
The act itself had no meaning, but the hand tapped her head lightly.
"Clutch!"
"Ah-guh!?"
Snap—a dangerous sound rang from her body as she was arched backward, her spine locked into submission.
Tashigi screamed. When she was released, she collapsed to the ground, limp and motionless. She likely wasn't dead, but the damage was severe.
The watching Marines gasped, frozen in place.
Tashigi being defeated right before their eyes was something that had never happened before. The impact on morale was massive.
Severely shaken, the Marines lost their chain of command and couldn't move.
In that time, Miss All Sunday returned to Cobra and began walking him away.
"If you don't intend to do anything, could you let us through?"
"Ugh... H-Hey..."
"Idiots! Save the hostage! Don't let them get away!"
"Help Sergeant Major Tashigi! First aid for the fallen! And—"
"H-Hey, look at that..."
In the unit so shaken they couldn't even keep formation, someone spoke in a small voice. Strangely, it reached the ears of those around him, and gazes gathered in one spot.
They looked toward the top of a building.
A sight difficult for them to believe was there.
On the roof, Smoker lay collapsed, covered in blood.
Right beside him stood Crocodile.
Smoker's body, which should have been smoke, had been slashed repeatedly by the hook. His breathing was ragged, evident from his heaving chest, and he closed his eyes in frustration—a sight they had never seen.
That figure was too shocking; it pierced the hearts of the Marines even deeper than Tashigi's defeat.
They had believed that he, at least, could absolutely never lose.
Dripping blood ran down the wall.
To the Marines' eyes, that burned more vividly than anything else, imparting a deep despair.
Crocodile spoke quietly.
The eyes looking down at the fallen Smoker held no emotion. They were cold, as if this outcome was only natural. Because of that, to the Marines, he appeared as a terrifyingly massive existence.
"Your judgment wasn't wrong. Including your lack of strength."
He swung the bloodied hook, and drops of blood splattered onto Smoker's body. He couldn't even react.
"Killing you is easy, but I'll let you live a little longer... You might as well watch. Watch what is about to happen to this country."
Lifting his head, Crocodile looked at the sandstorm.
Carried by the wind, it was moving gradually, seemingly aiming for a destination. The only one who knew where it was going, he smiled thinly, imagining the scenery to come.
"That will reach the plaza very soon. When it does, the Royal Army will undoubtedly be annihilated. Everything is proceeding according to plan. Your appearance here was no obstacle at all."
Though his consciousness was fading, Smoker heard those words.
Desperately lifting his heavy eyelids, what he saw was the triumphant smile of the enemy.
"If you can't beat me, why not try saving them? Well, the result will likely be the same."
Kuhahaha—looking up at the man whose distinctive laughter rang out, Smoker could do nothing but grit his teeth.
Had he ever lamented his own powerlessness this much?
Clenching his fists so tight it hurt, he remained unable to stand.
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