The impact of the punch echoed through the large stone chamber, a sharp thwack that sounded promising. Luffy's fist, traveling at the speed of a rocket, collided squarely with Sir Crocodile's face. The Warlord's head snapped back violently.
But there was no crunch of bone. There was no spray of blood.
Instead, Crocodile's head simply exploded into a dry, swirling cloud of sand. The grains scattered into the air, drifting lazily before swirling back together. Luffy's fist had passed clean through the space where the Warlord's brain should have been, stretching out behind him, vibrating from the force of the missed connection.
Luffy retracted his arm, the rubber snapping back with a zwing. He blinked, tilting his head.
"Huh? I hit him. Why didn't he go flying?"
"YOU IDIOT!"
Two voices screamed in unison from behind him. Nami and Usopp were clutching their heads, their faces twisted in a mix of terror and frustration.
"He's a Logia!" Usopp shrieked, pointing at the reforming sand-man. "We talked about this on the ship! Sabo talked about this! Ben talked about this! Physical attacks don't work unless you use Haki or his weakness! Did you listen to anything?!"
"Oh, right," Luffy punched his palm, his face lighting up with realization. "He's the sand-guy. I forgot."
"HOW DO YOU FORGET THE MAIN VILLAIN'S POWER FIVE SECONDS INTO THE FIGHT?!" Nami yelled, her voice reaching a pitch that could shatter glass.
Crocodile's face finished reforming. He looked utterly unimpressed. He dusted off his fur collar, his golden hook glinting in the dim light of the aquarium room.
"I expected a challenge," Crocodile sighed, the smoke from his cigar swirling around his scarred face. "But it seems I overestimated. You are just a monkey flailing in the desert."
He snapped his fingers. The sound was sharp and commanding.
"I have no time to play with vermin personally. Kill them."
From the shadows of the room, doors hidden in the stone walls slid open. The clicking of heels, the heavy thud of boots, and the frantic digging of claws filled the air.
The Officer Agents of Baroque Works had arrived. They had been waiting in the wings, the elite guard of Rain Dinners, ready to dispose of any VIPs who got too lucky.
First came Mr. 2 Bon Clay, pirouetting into the room with swans mounted on his back. "Un-Deux-Trois! The Okama Way never stops! Oh look! It's the Straw Boys!"
Next was a massive, slow-moving giant of a man, Mr. 4, dragging a four-ton baseball bat. Beside him, his gun-dog Lassou sneezed, launching an explosive baseball that cratered the floor.
Then, bursting from the ground itself, came the frantic, mole-woman Miss Merry Christmas, adjusting her thick glasses. "Hurry up! Hurry up! The Boss is waiting! Kill them quick!"
And finally, walking with a swaying, hypnotic rhythm, came Miss Doublefinger. The partner of Mr. 1. She wore a revealing blue outfit, smoking a pipe, her blue hair styled in fierce spikes. She looked at the Straw Hats as if they were dirt on her shoe.
"Where is Mr. 1?" Crocodile asked, annoyed.
"He is securing the perimeter outside," Miss Doublefinger replied, her voice smooth and dangerous. "He said if the Swordsman is worthy, he will find him. Until then, we are enough."
"Fine," Crocodile waved his hand dismissively. "Slaughter them."
The Straw Hat crew didn't flinch. They naturally fell into a formation, a line of defense forged through battles in the East Blue and the Grand Line.
Sanji stepped forward, his eyes locking onto the spinning ballerina. "A twisted ballet dancer? I suppose I can teach you some footwork."
"Oh! A handsome blonde!" Bon Clay squealed, striking a pose. "Come dance with me!"
Usopp gulped, looking at the massive Mr. 4. "I... I get the big guy? Why do I always get the big guy?" He pulled out his slingshot, his knees shaking but his feet planted. "Alright, you tub of lard! Prepare to face the wrath of Captain Usopp!"
Ben stepped calmly toward the center, his wand tapping against his leg. He looked at the frantic mole-woman and the dozens of "Millions" agents pouring in through the back.
"I'll handle crowd control," Ben said calmly. "And the mole. I hate pests in the garden."
That left Nami standing opposite Miss Doublefinger. The Baroque Works agent looked at the orange-haired girl and smirked.
"The Navigator," Doublefinger chuckled. "The weak link. This will take three seconds."
Nami didn't tremble. She didn't hide behind Luffy. She simply adjusted her grip on the staff in her hand.
"Three seconds?" Nami smiled, a confident, predatory smile that looked suspiciously like Ben's. "You might want to budget a little more time than that, lady."
Luffy stepped forward to face Crocodile. He reached for water nearby, the weakness Ben had told him about.
"Luffy. Stop."
Ben's voice cut through the noise. It wasn't a shout, but it carried an absolute weight.
Luffy froze.
"Don't use the water," Ben said.
"Huh?" Luffy blinked. "But you said water makes him hitable. If I don't use it, my punches go whoosh."
"Exactly," Ben said, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, his tone serious. "Luffy, you want to be the Pirate King, right? In the New World, there are monsters far scarier than a sandman. You can't always rely on finding a convenient weakness. You need to overpower them."
Ben pointed a finger at Luffy's chest.
"Armament Haki. You've sparked it a few times. But it's weak. It's inconsistent. Haki blooms in the heat of extreme danger. If you use the water, you win a tactical victory, but you learn nothing. If you fight him without it... If you force your will to bypass his logic... You will evolve."
Ben lowered his hand.
"Throw away the crutch, Captain. Fight him with your spirit."
The room went silent. Even Crocodile looked intrigued by the audacity of the suggestion.
Luffy stared at Ben. Then, he looked at his hands. He clenched them into fists. The rubber skin stretched tight.
He grinned. A wide, reckless grin.
"Shishishi! You're right, Ben!"
"Hey, Crocodile!" Luffy shouted, cracking his knuckles. "I'm gonna beat you up! And I don't need water to do it!"
Crocodile stared at the barrel rolling away. His eye twitched. A vein pulsed in his forehead.
"Arrogance," Crocodile hissed, the sand around him turning into jagged spikes. "Sheer, unadulterated arrogance. You think you can touch a Logia with nothing but 'spirit'? You are spitting in the face of a god."
"I'm not spitting," Luffy crouched low, steam rising from his skin as he pumped his blood, activating Gear Second unconsciously in flashes. "I'm fighting!"
"Kill them all!" Crocodile roared, launching a massive sand blade at Luffy. "I will grind your bones to dust!"
The room exploded into chaos.
Sanji clashed with Bon Clay, legs meeting in a flurry of kicks. Usopp fired an exploding star at Mr. 4. Ben began turning the floor into quicksand to trap the Millions.
And in the center of the storm, Nami walked toward Miss Doublefinger.
Miss Doublefinger watched Nami approach, amused by the girl's lack of fear.
"You have a lot of confidence for a girl with a toy stick," Doublefinger said, taking a drag from her pipe. "I am a user of the Toge Toge no Mi. I can turn any part of my body into spikes that can pierce stone. You are just flesh and blood."
"I'm a little more than that," Nami said, spinning the Tempest Tact in her fingers. The metal hummed with a low, electrical buzz.
"Die."
Doublefinger moved. She was fast—an assassin trained to kill.
"Stinger Hedgehog!"
She lunged, her hair turning into a thousand needle-sharp spikes, aiming to impale Nami like a pincushion.
In the old timeline, Nami would have run. She would have screamed and looked for a place to hide.
But this Nami had drunk the Super Soldier Serum. Her biology had been rewritten. Her perception of time slowed. She saw the spikes coming. She saw the shift in Doublefinger's weight.
Nami didn't run. She stepped in.
With a burst of speed that cracked the stone floor beneath her sandals, Nami sidestepped the lunge. The movement was a blur, faster than the eye could track.
She appeared beside Doublefinger.
"Too slow," Nami whispered.
Before Doublefinger could react, Nami swung the Tact. It wasn't a magical attack yet—it was a blunt force strike. The weighted metal staff slammed into Doublefinger's ribs.
CRACK.
The sound of a rib fracturing echoed. Doublefinger gasped, her eyes bulging, and was sent skidding ten meters across the floor.
Doublefinger recovered, clutching her side, coughing. She looked at Nami with genuine shock.
"What... what are you?" she wheezed. "That strength... you're barely a hundred pounds!"
"I've been working out," Nami winked. She pressed a button on the Tact. "Now, let's try the fun stuff."
The Tempest Tact extended. The tip glowed with a violent, crackling blue light.
Nami flicked her wrist. Unlike the old Clima-Tact which required bubbles to float slowly, this weapon fired compressed rounds of thermal energy.
Bang! Bang!
Two orbs of energy collided instantly above Doublefinger's head.
The atmospheric pressure dropped in a millisecond. A localized storm front formed inside the room.
"Double Stinger!" Doublefinger screamed, turning both her arms into massive lances and charging. "I don't care about your magic tricks! I'll skewer you!"
She thrust her spike-arms forward.
Nami stood her ground. She held the Tact horizontally.
"Wind Barrier."
A sudden, violent gust of wind erupted from the staff, forming a solid wall of air. Doublefinger's spikes hit the wind and were deflected upward, her momentum leaving her chest exposed.
Nami grabbed Doublefinger's spiked arm with her bare hand.
Normally, the spikes would tear flesh. But Nami's skin was denser, tougher. She gripped the spike, ignoring the stinging pain, and pulled the assassin close.
"You said I was the weak link," Nami said, her eyes glowing with a faint blue hue as the serum reacted to her adrenaline.
She jammed the tip of the Sorcery Tact directly into Doublefinger's stomach.
"Thunderbolt Tempo: Railgun."
She didn't summon a cloud. She discharged the stored electricity directly through the staff.
KAAAA-BOOOOOM!
A beam of pure blue lightning erupted point-blank.
The force of the blast blew out the windows of the VIP room.
Miss Doublefinger didn't even scream. Her eyes rolled back into her head, her body convulsing as thousands of volts surged through her system. She was launched backward like a ragdoll, smashing through a stone pillar and embedding herself into the far wall.
Smoke rose from her unconscious body. Her hair, once spiked and styled, was now a frizzy, charred mess.
Nami stood amidst the crackling electricity, twirling her staff before holstering it on her hip. She brushed a speck of dust off her shoulder.
"Three seconds," Nami checked her imaginary watch. "Actually, that took four. I need to work on my efficiency."
She looked over at the rest of the battlefield.
"Alright boys!" Nami shouted, her voice brimming with command. "I'm done! Don't slack off!"
Ben, who was currently holding Miss Merry Christmas upside down by her ankles with a levitation charm, smirked.
"Attagirl," he muttered.
He looked toward the center of the room.
The real test was just beginning.
Luffy stood before Crocodile, his fists blackening slightly, then fading, then blackening again. He was struggling, failing, and trying again.
The rubber man launched himself into the sandstorm, no water, no tricks, just raw will.