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Crocodile lit a cigar and took a drag. His sand in front of him continued to walk along an imaginary desert in the shape of a camel. He made it speed up to a gallop before letting the sand fall back into him, tilting his head back with a sigh.

Ms. All-Sunday’s words from a few days ago kept repeating in his head and he didn’t know why.

You’re so ruthless, Sir Crocodile. She had said, probably with some sort of smirk. He hadn’t even given the comment the dignity of turning around to see what expression went with it as he dismissed it outwardly.

And yet, his brain wouldn’t let it go.

It had been a while since he had been called ruthless, hadn’t it? Given his current long-term image.

The last time had been… fuck. It had been with Iva, hadn’t it? The idiot had liked to blabber during treatments.

You and Drago-boy are both so ruthless!

He’d growled at Iva, affronted by the idea of similarities.

Dragon’s a bleeding heart.

Maybe so, but that blood is just as ruthless as yours. He’s just angrily ruthless where as you, Croco-boy, are just selfish, even when you get angry.

If you have a problem with one of the pirates hanging around being selfish then I dare say your little rebellion is more than doomed.

Now now, Croco-boy, do you really think vou should be lecturing me in this situation? Hm?

Crocodile had looked at the wiggling fingers slowly giving him a cocktail of hormones so that a year from now he wouldn’t need any outside help. The clinic at this new base was quickly becoming his least favorite spot.

He’d scoffed and looked away.

Whatever, just hurry it up.

If vou want this to go quickly then you two shouldn’t have fought like that! Vi’d say you’re just right for each other but look at you now, half torn apart because of a little spat! Like Vi said, ruthless, both of you. Mmfufufu!

Crocodile dragged himself out of the memory before he could get another headache like the one Ivankov’s lecture had given him back then.

Ivankov had been so annoying.

Crocodile put out his cigar, liking to imagine he was grounding it into that ridiculous purple mop instead of the cut crystal ashtray.

Although unfortunately, Ivankov was also somewhat right. Looking at what Dragon had managed to make with the Revolutionary Army now, the man was ruthless. And Crocodile was ruthless enough to use the convenient reputation as part of a smokescreen for what he was doing now.

He still won at ruthlessness though, definitely.

Robin came in and told him there was another group of pirates they’d let in to Nanohana.

Ruthlessness was definitely his trait, Crocodile reassured himself as he flew across the desert and up a spire to put on a show.

The pirates tried to skewer him, idiots. They hadn’t even done any research.

Crocodile could barely spare annoyance for these kinds of greenhorns. These pirates, those Straw Hats Mr. 3 had barely managed to defeat…

“I’m a different breed of pirate, you swine,” he commented as his sand took out the pirates, hiding the more graphic parts of his powers from the peons around him. It wouldn’t be good for his reputation if they started to fear him now, that part would come later.

They all looked so shocked. By just this little bit of drama. They were hardened criminals, sure, but that didn’t mean much at all in this kind of unforgiving world.

Mr. 1, at least, recovered fairly quickly, asking for confirmation neutrally while everyone else’s voices shrieked or trembled.

Miss Double Finger followed her partner’s lead a little too, face still not schooled but voice at least steady as she backtracked and prodded in equal measure, betraying an internal fear her partner didn’t have.

In this part of the Grand Line, that was good enough, though.

“Why would one of the pirate allies of the world government create an organization like this?” So many ways to answer that, truthfully, or with a lie. A good mix would do in the end though.

“I’m not interested in money or status. I want military might,” he said, lighting a cigar.

Between the candelabra closest to him and his golden ashtray, he could see everyone’s distorted reflections well enough to see he had their attention and interest now.

Over an hour later, he lit his fifth cigar and dismissed them. Or at least he tried to.

Mr. 3 was truly a disappointment. Crocodile had met a few geniuses, and dozens upon dozens of actually smart combatants between the New World and the Revolutionary Army. He wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t dumb, by any means, but there were people that could make their brain their primary weapon and be lethal with it. He’d met Mr. 3 once before, indirectly when he had been deciding to give the then-frontier agent a promotion to officer.

Crocodile had seen a lot of potential in Mr. 3 to become one of those lethally smart combatants. Listening to the man blabber now, it was clear he had squandered that potential. The man was sneaky, the man was tricky. But he apparently had no ambition in putting that to use to reach any goal.

It was a fatal flaw that Crocodile wouldn’t tolerate.

He ignored the way the man begged and dropped him into the bananawani enclosure below without bothering to register a word beyond “water.”

Mr. 3 wasn’t important anymore.

Straw Hat, on the other hand.

“I underestimated that kid. Killing him once won’t be enough,” he grumbled as he walked back to his seat.

He quickly reorganized plans and priorities. He sent his employees off again, successfully this time.

They better get rid of Straw Hat quickly. He wasn’t dumb, or overconfident. Straw Hat, the princess, and their merry band of greenhorn fools were the variables with the most potential to ruin his plans.

Military might could take many forms, and it did not need previous proof to exist. Crocodile wanted survival above all else. The real path to that was fighting power. Riches and status could be enjoyed after survival was secured. They were things that were earned, and not to be mistaken for real power. That was a mistake he had seen and taken advantage of dozens upon dozens of times.

Straw Hat was too inexperienced for a pirate from East Blue to be that strong of a combatant yet. Perhaps he had a lot of potential. He was not, unfortunately, entirely ignorable, but there was no reason why he wouldn’t be able eliminate the young pirate before any more chaos could come into his plan.

Sometimes, I think you should have been named Dragon instead, Croco-boy.

Crocodile had just paused and glared at the okama while cleaning his arm for that week’s round of injections. He wasn’t sure if it was better to tell Ivankov off or ignore the nonsense he knew he wouldn’t like an expansion of.

Ivankov, as usual, didn’t give him much choice.

You’re the selfish, greedy one who guards his hoard, after all, between the two of you. Mmfufufu!

This is about the Slip-Buttress Plan, isn’t it? He’d asked with a sigh.

Would you prefer Vi call you cautious? Don’t give me that glare, of course you don’t! Mmfufu! I thought you two were going to break bones over another ‘polite disagreement’ yesterday.

He already lost Vegapunk a month before I came along because of lack of resources. If he seriously won’t consider grabbing the ammo that will be right there on the mission then he’s a fool.

How did you know about Vega- no, never mind. Drago-boy is playing the long game though. He doesn’t want the extra attention.

So he doesn’t want it enough, in others words.

On the contrary, Drago-boy wants to build up our firepower more than anyone.

Crocodile had scoffed.

You’re impatient, Croco-boy. Vou need to learn to look at the big picture, get the determination to do things over a slow, long time. Dragon is a very determined man, as Vi think you’ve noticed.

Are you seriously telling a pirate to plan long-term? Are you sure you haven’t caused memory problems with all those hormone experiments you’ve done on yourself?

Now now, Croco-boy, that’s not the case at all. I’d never do anything that risks my beloved candies or revolutionaries. And since Vi’m both, that means Vi’m double-exempt! Yee-Haw! No, those experiments are reserved for outsiders.

Crocodile had scoffed again, but didn’t comment further. In that situation, he hadn’t been able to out-threaten Ivankov.

How is your body though? Inside or outside of expectations?

It’s fine. He had tried to shrug it off as none of Ivankov’s business like an idiot.

Come now, Croco-boy, Vi’ve got your hormones in my hands. Aren’t I owed a little more info on the delicious sweet secrets of your body? At least while you’re in my clinic? Feel free to leave out what secrets you and Drago-boy have been getting up to behind closed doors, though. Mmfufu!

It’s been going fine. Everything’s been within ‘normal expectations’ on those documents. Except my period. That’s already stopped, thank goodness.

Vhat?!

Crocodile almost winced as he remembered the okama’s scream that preceded a barrage of tests revealing one of the biggest gaffes of his life.

He’d learned since that time. He’d learned how to plan long-term. He’d learned just what kind of havoc chaotic variables could wreck on one’s life. He’d figured out how to be both greedy and cautious.

So the Straw Hat brat would be ordered to die again.

That would solve any potential problems. He’d make sure of it.

Impulsive, Crocodile thought as he laughed. Pirates are so impulsive by nature.

“Go greet those fools,” he ordered Miss All-Sunday.

Short-sighted and foolish. And it was that sort of foolishness that made pirates like these potentially dangerous variables. They were unpredictable.

Still, that unpredictability had worked in his favor, this time. They were already here at his front door instead of going after the rebellion, which would have done the most damage to his plan.

He made his way to the bananawani pen chamber leisurely, getting the call that not only the four Straw Hat pirates, but the infamous Captain Smoker too, had been captured when he was a third of the way there.

They were threatening and arguing with each other by the time he made it down. Which wasn’t terribly surprising, given the marine added to the mix. Although he would have expected some infighting amongst the pirates at this point.

When he shifted from sand to human form and revealed himself, there was a bit of startling, some fear from the two cowardly pirates, but not shock. Crocodile made a note of it, quickly and derisively compared the reaction of a bunch of rookie pirates to his hardened criminal employees, and moved on.

The captain revealed himself to be hot-headed and impulsive, to an idiotic degree. Crocodile let himself smile as the brat grabbed onto the bars he knew would weaken him in his pointless passion.

He didn’t respond to the pirate that seemed more child than man.

Not three minutes later, he had to wonder if that was a mistake as the pirates did impressions and napped, like they were bored children waiting for parents to finish shopping.

The orange-haired girl, at least, had some sense of gravitas and a temper, leading to her striking verbally and physically at her crew’s misbehavior. Although it still wasn’t the sort of fighting that counted as actual in-fighting.

It was at least amusing when the impressions had definitely not been so.

“You’re a spirited young lady,” he praised her, not entirely mockingly.

She responded to his grace with puffed up threats that relied on her child-captain, though, showing her own juvenile naivety.

“She has a great deal of trust in you, Straw Hat. But trust is the most overrated thing in the world,” he taunted.

That kind of line usually began sowing a seed of doubt, becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. Sometimes in the leader, sometimes in the ones he implied would be failed. Often both.

Looking across the room at the pirates, he saw neither.

The young lady was affronted and yelling, the cowardly boy scolding her out of concern with clearly the same bickering-not-fighting dynamic as before.

Roronoa Zoro still only had half an eye on him, the other half of his attention on Captain Smoker, glaring at the marine as a guardian for the other pirates despite his faux-relaxed posture.

The captain… Straw Hat was looking at him blankly. His gaze was both flat and piercing, like a navigator watching the whole ocean and seeing the best and worst paths to take. He’d been watched like that before.

It made something in Crocodile stand up and urge him to do… something.

But there was no reason to do anything. They were trapped, he was in control, he had nothing to fear or be concerned about from the man-child who had idiotically tried to play pirate.

He was saved from battling with himself further by Miss All-Sunday’s competency, bringing the princess in at just the right time.

This was a show he definitely knew how to put on.

A bit of pizazz, a bit of panache, a bit of cruelty, overwhelming by just explaining the situation and choices, some extra taunts to stir up even more anger, leaving the princess and her companions in a multi-layered trap more likely to lead to death by infighting. If not, they would die from decision paralysis and either way die in a manner that would make it difficult to blame him for despite dying on his property.

It took far more experience than the rookie pirates, or even a princess used to politics in her meager age, could hope to have to navigate this sort of situation. They would-

“Vivi! Do Something! Get us out of here!” the young captain ordered, voice clear even as it conveyed a useless order.

Crocodile laughed and taunted the brat without stopping or turning. There was a decent amount of will to the young captain, it appeared, but that wouldn’t be enough.

Then the brat had the audacity to ignore him.

“If we die here, who’s gonna kick his butt?!” Straw Hat continued. His voice annoyingly even more clear than before, despite the water rushing even louder.

Crocodile stopped to glare over his shoulder.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, gator chum,” he chided, letting his glare communicate his anger more than his voice.

Straw Hat insulted him back, technically, not a degree of elegance to his words. His expression clearly showing how angry he was. His eyes even getting down to small pinpricks in the idiot’s pointless rage.

Did vou know your eyes get small when vou get angry?

The question immediately irritated him, so Crocodile made sure to keep his eyes wide open as he glared at Ivanov. Ivanov wiggled his fingers as he put on a fresh pair of gloves, making Crocodile stew and wait.

Vi said small, not narrow. Vi’ve never seen vou angry instead of annoyed before. Vhen the guards got onto the ship and vou killed them all, your eyes got smaller, the ring a little and the pupil much smaller. Vi didn’t know your eyes were grey, mmfufufu!

Why. Why was this idiot talking about this.

Vou might be crabby, but you don’t get angry often, do you?

I assure you, your continued existence makes me quite angry when it’s not useful.

Now now, Croco-boy! That’s no way to treat your doctor! Especially the doctor who knows your new weakness.

Uh?! Crocodile grunted, irritated and confused. There was little that could refer to, but neither quite made sense.

Not the pregnancy or hormones, the anger. Vou got quite angry at the intruders delaying us once you realized Drago-boy needed medical care. Enough for your eyes to change

A growl tore out of his throat.

I knew the risks of staying there any longer, and if Dragon was that injured then it meant I actually had to step in to get us to leave in time. I’m only here to smuggle, with a willingness to sometimes humiliate the Marines. It’s annoying to have to do more of your job for you.

Vou were angry. Vou don’t get angry often. I wasn’t sure vou got fully angry before that.

Anger just shuts down your brain and makes you an idiot, makes you make mistakes.

Vi don’t know about that. Drago-boy is always angry and he makes very few mistakes.

Crocodile snorted.

Even if that’s anger somehow, he’s a bleeding heart revolutionary that can’t handle the world. He’s throwing a years long tantrum.

And yet, he’s gotten quite a bit done and he’s just getting started, mmfufu!

See? Doesn’t sound like anger to me.

Vou can think that, but those speeches don’t come without a background in rage. And his response to vou and Hack getting in trouble last week vasn’t what Vi would call happy.

Crocodile ignored the memories of that incident, then barely considered those passionate speeches before realizing Ivankov was right. And that he would not be admitting it out loud under threat of death.

Just finish up with this month’s round already.

Crocodile suspected from the slight change in mouth angle that Ivankov knew he had won the verbal joust anyways.

As vou wish, mmfufufu!

By the way, are vou sure you want to continue the pregnancy with this treatment. Vi-

If the treatment continues it could mess with the pregnancy, you told me. And if I take the abortion treatment, I have to wait two months to do this again. If the kid comes out stillborn, or an idiot, or with messed up genes so they’re more like a grandparent than parent, it’s not my problem.

Vhat a selfish man vou are! And here I actually admired the cold silver glint Vi finally got to see in your eyes!

It wasn’t worth responding to the lacking power or insult, so he threw one last taunt at the princess to delay his leave until the first banandile – Marsha – attacked, meaning it was game over for the group.

… Even if that “Mr. Prince” nonsense character of a pirate meant he had to knock the princess down and out. This group was way too resilient and adaptable. Given their lack of experience, they were unpredictable.

He was killing the ones down here already. He’d go up and get rid of Mr. Prince permanently as well. And then his plan would be unthreatened once more. He’d make sure of it.

He took in deep breaths. He needed to stay calm. He needed to plan, give orders, and intimidate those orders into being followed. Most of his subordinates were too stupidly prideful to understand how little things failing like this ruined everything.

This should be impossible though. No prisoners in their jail, a dead man alive (and floating. How? He was a devil fruit user.), dead bananadiles in their own pen with signs of fighting each other.

He knew Captain Smoker’s capabilities. He’d watched those Straw Hat idiots interact, they shouldn’t have had any way to make this work in their favor.

He should be reevaluating them as much more competent and therefore dangerous but they’d proven themselves to him that they weren’t. So that made this situation impossible.

Too many variables. Too many contradictions. Too much risk.

And this is why vou should think long-term, Croco-boy. Mmfufufu!

Crocodile debated stabbing his leg so he wouldn’t stab Ivanov for a moment. Why did he have to be stitched up by this jerk? There were five other medics. He was perfectly willing to wait for them to be done with current patients if it meant getting away from the irritating okama.

Fuck off. Predicting that they’d have that many people in reserve is an insane endeavor.

Drago-boy did.

Crocodile did not strangle Ivankov. Despite the waggling eyebrows.

Dragon refuses to deny that he’s blessed by gods because he can’t prove a lack of blessing. He’s ridiculous.

So is this world we live in, that’s why we’re going to match it, yee-haw! If you let yourself go, you could be ridiculous too, mmfufufu!

I don’t need to be ridiculous to plan long term.

And yet you are doing neither. Instead you get stabbed and give up on priorities like subtly, mmfufu.

He’d go after them himself. The important one was the princess. Without her, the pirates had no credibility. If he could, he’d get rid of the annoying captain too. He wasn’t letting this become an even bigger mess.

He grabbed the princess. He made sure of it. He saw it.

And yet, instead, it was the Straw Hat greenhorn sprawled in the sand in front of him.

The brat had even had time to yell out orders to his crew. Surprisingly competent ones, given his earlier foolishness. But he’d also let Crocodile hear them, so it was still foolish.

Crocodile supposed he could prioritize but not strategize. If the brat had lived a longer life, then perhaps the crew would learn to accommodate such characteristics, figure out a way to make it work in their favor. But since Crocodile was going to kill the boy right here, the Straw Hat crew would never reach that point.

Miss All-Sunday laughed. “looks like Princess Vivi got away.”

“No matter…” Crocodile trailed off, considering. But the brat was an idiot who wouldn’t figure out vague information even if he wasn’t about to die, “our agents are gathering in Alubarna. Send word to them immediately.”

He turned back to Straw Hat, still head over heels in the sand. “And now, your time has come, Straw Hat.”

“Vivi’s strength isn’t in her muscles, it’s in her heart. She’s always trying to help others,” the brat said, not ignoring him this time, but ignoring his words.

“Huh?!” he huffed, cutting enough to inform anyone with two braincells that their death had just been written even further in sandstone.

“She feels compassion for everybody so she never stops fighting. She doesn’t want a single person to be killed in this rebellion.”

It wasn’t the first time Crocodile had run into an ideological fighter, but he didn’t think he’d run into one as dumb as Straw Hat before. It was quite the juxtaposition.

“No casualties?” he scoffed, “This world is full of peace-loving fools like her. Easy for someone who’s never been in a battle. Don’t you agree?”

“That’s right,” the boy said, gaze even and clear.

Huh. He hadn’t expected that. That last bit was supposed to be a taunt to goad the fool into saying something foolish like the princess.

Straw Hat was dumb, and far too green, to have this level of philosophy. He’d also already escaped situations he shouldn’t have been able to. He was in some way an impossibility.

The boy continued to look at him with a clear gaze as he stood, not letting his guard down or target wander.

Despite the youth and inexperience, the boy was not naive, it seemed. That was where at least some of the impossibility laid.

“But as long as you’re still around, she’ll kill herself trying to stop you. So I’m gonna finish you here,” the brat continued.

Not naive, but still an idealistic fool.

Reality would crush that.

He laughed. “How noble of you,” not really, funnily enough, the boy’s motives were selfish, like a proper pirate, not noble like princesses or revolutionaries who fought for grand ideals, “but you’re an incorrigible fool, boy. You’d give your life to help some stranger you befriended. I’ve deserted dozens of fools like you!”

His crew, after he lost so badly he had two mutiny attempts. The Revolutionary army deals. The dozens of half-formed crews as he kept active enough to get the warlord posting. Scores of Baroque Works agents he couldn’t bother to count.

None had mattered in the end though, or kept on his conscience.

The boy had the gall to look away as he spoke, patting sand out of his shorts.

You’re really done then.

A statement, not a question. He’d been surprised, unaware of the man’s approach.

I don’t have to stay here while there’s no shipments to handle.

A lie.

You do not intend to come back.

Another statement. With no judgement. Just an even stare he could barely meet with a barely enough mix of pride and embarrassment.

Dragon looked away first, up towards the sea. The storm lightened within moments to a drizzle on a wobbly path out of the bay, the rest of the water still thunderously turbulent.

It was a goodbye. A dismissal.

Crocodile sailed and didn’t look back.

“In that case, you’re the fool,” Straw Hat taunted him, rising back up with a smile and still clear gaze, now with the hard glint of adrenaline in his eyes.

Crocodile felt his face freeze at the imbecile’s gall, veins throbbing as outrage rushed through him.

Miss All-Sunday laughed, and he dismissed her with the threat of her name.

He rifled through his pocket as she left, throwing a hourglass down once they were alone.

If the brat was going to taunt him, then it was only fair that he make the death a taunting one in return.

The goading setup didn’t seem to work on Straw Hat – he hadn’t shown much pride before, so perhaps he was one of those rare pirates without much – but it didn’t matter since the boy was more than willing to fight him anyways.

The punch was strong, stronger than most would expect from a fruit like the Gomu-Gomu Fruit. But it was still just a punch in the end. He supposed the brat hadn’t really fought his fruit before, so even if he’d seen the princess fail to decapitate him, the idiot probably didn’t understand.

He attacked next, going for the throat.

He’d expected some level of avoidance, but the flexibility and balance to dodge completely was far better than he had expected.

The way the boy actually lifted his standing leg off the ground and flipped, kicking perfectly through and down to where his shoulder met neck, was actually surprising. The kick had been strong enough that most non-logias would have fallen.

The boy actually had some combat ability. And potential.

But that was far from enough for the Grand Line.

“Throw everything you’ve got at me, Straw Hat,” he taunted, “but you’ll never-”

punches throughout his head and body took out his face and a quarter of his lungs, fruit turning it all to sand.

“Listen, Straw Hat,” he started again, “your mosquito-like attacks can never-”

Another barrage of attacks. He deformed fully into sand and shifted a few meters away. Close quarter combat was usually good for battle taunts, but apparently not for this idiot.

He reformed behind Straw Hat.

“No matter how much you try, rubber man, you’ll never wi-”

This time, there was a single punch, clearly aimed for his mouth.

“What’s that? You trying to say something, Croc?!” the boy asked, panting.

Taunting him.

He had planned to wait two minutes to pull out any proper techniques. Alas.

He threw a Desert Spada, cleaving the sand they were on like dough.

Straw Hat dodged.

Crocodile grinned. The brat’s abilities would be enough to make this beatdown satisfying.

Straw Hat seemed to have a good sense of physics, at least, and quick creativity to use it in live combat. But no matter how he bounced out of the desert girasol or could manipulate his body into more creative shapes like nets, the boy still couldn’t beat the sand itself.

And yet he wouldn’t stay down.

Worse, the boy had the gall to try to eat him.

Fucking Ds.

Crocodile tore himself out of Straw Hat’s mouth, yelling. He spotted the hourglass. The three minutes were up.

“Die, along with Yuba too.” the idiot had brought up the thorn in his side town, might as well send another storm.

He reveled in the sandstorm for a few moments, a delightful mix of his own power and nature itself, a perfect harmony of placing himself in his own element.

Then he opened his eyes, and played with his food just a little bit more. It was well worth it, he finally got to see Straw Hat begging.

The fool ran at him and grabbed his coat, making pointless demands, he even tried to run after the sandstorm itself. The fool would not stop.

Perhaps, if he retreated, he might have lived.

Instead, Straw Hat ran back at him, jumping on him and ordering him to stop – desperate, foolish anger coloring his words, leaving him wide open.

It was far too easy a thing, to slide his hook into the rubbery skin. It felt weird, like puncturing a ridiculously thick water balloon, making him push harder through the tension but then sliding through far too easily once he finally pushed apart the skin.

“Who do you think you’re ordering around?” The boy sank onto his hook. “You’re just a two-bit greenhorn. Straw Hat Luffy, upstarts like you are dime-a-dozen in the Grand Line. Yuba will die. That sandstorm will destroy it. Then the rebels will grow even more enraged and their misguided passion will rip this kingdom apart-” they weren’t like the real revolutionary army, their leader was no Dragon. Too short-sighted and narrow-minded to see the big pictures, making him predictable and more than controllable enough for Crocodile’s purposes. “Same goes for you, Straw Hat-” the boy was certainly no Dragon either “-you might have lived longer if not for your foolish compassion. You’ll no longer feel any gratitude for this wat-”

Pain gripped his wrist. Literally.

There was water on his forearm. Which Straw Hat was now grabbing. It hurt like he was losing his hand all over again. He’d known from the attacks earlier that the boy was strong but this was ridiculous.

Crocodile threw Straw Hat down into the girasol. He watched for a moment to confirm that, despite the barely conscious death-grip, Straw Hat was too far gone to move himself out of it.

“What a waste of time,” he grumbled as he finally walked away. A rookie pirate really shouldn’t have been as much trouble as he had been. At least it was done now.

Crocodile massaged his forearm. The brat had managed to annoy him into monologuing, of all things. Taunts were fine, pretending to monologue for other deceptions in battle were fine, but real monologuing led to stupid mistakes and he was better than that.

And here Vi thought vou were done with these things.

Shut up, I haven’t done it in months. I just…

Had a relapse? Mmfufufu. And paid dearly for it, as happens for relapses all the time. I dare say you won’t be monologuing again for quite some time.

You’re one to talk.

Ah-ah-ah, exposition is different. So is putting on a show, Croco-boy.

Is that what your illustrious leader was doing? Putting on a show?

Iva stared at him for a few moments, mind clearly working on how to respond to the too-biting sarcastic tone he hadn’t meant to let out.

They both knew Dragon had meant every word he said, but that the man had also been buying a little time for Crocodile to get evacuated. And that at the end Dragon had laid down what the king had done to Crocodile as the last straw in the ideology that condemned the man in Dragon’s eyes.

Crocodile hated that idealistic snobbery. But couldn’t turn away the care and hated that even more. Iva could read that, unfortunately.

Drago-boy isn’t a man who can be stopped, or at least his will can’t.

Crocodile snorted, more reflexively against Ivankov than anything.

Wanna bet?

No, you’d lose. You’ve never beat him in a spar, as far as Vi can hear. All though Vi can’t say Vi listened too closely to how you fight behind closed doors, mmfufufu!

Ivankov, you just might be the most annoying pervert I know. And he’s lost arguments.

He’s taken your words into consideration, sure. But you two only actually argue about your philosophies and dreams, and you haven’t beaten him at that yet. He’s far too determined at his goals for you to beat.

You calling me weak-willed, you big-headed idiot?

Between vou and Drago-boy? Any day, yee-haw! He can out-stubborn ten of you, and hold a grudge three times as long.

Crocodile waited for Ivankov to finish stitching him up before tripping the jerk using that annoying cape.

Crocodile shook his head and chased away the memory as he headed back into Rain Dinners to grab his last few supplies for Alubarna. Ivankov had really been one of the most annoying acquaintances he ever had. He was getting annoyed by how much he seemed to be remembering the okama lately.

He ignored how much more than annoyed he was at how his mind kept getting drawn back to Dragon. There was even less reason to dwell on that man.

His determination was more than enough to take over one of the oldest kingdoms in the world. Ivankov could shove it.

So much trust.

They had so much trust in each other, it was plain to see. Too plain, too easy to account for, to use. And trust in other people was so easy to undermine, especially in the Grand Line.

Even the most intense trust was useless.

(Princess Vivi refused to believe Straw Hat was dead, even though her mind clearly comprehended the likelihood. Her trust, it seemed, bordered on faith. Crocodile ignored the pinprick at the back of his neck. Just because he’d met a few that could inspire faith while defying death didn’t mean Straw Hat was one of those people. He’d made sure of it.)

The rebel had so much trust in the royal family, who had so much trust in him, the boy instantly believed the truth despite all Crocodile had done to erode that trust. It wouldn’t be the same for the others out there, even before his millions messed things up.

Still, there was enough trust for the boy to yell his question across the courtyard, clearly addressing the princess.

“Who was it that stole the rain from this kingdom?!” the rebel asked, clearly knowing the answer, putting on a show for himself, so he could rally in a way that put him back on the side of those he had trusted.

“It was all-” the princess began. Crocodile cut her off. He had no reason to indulge their little script.

“My doing, Kohza,” Crocodile interrupted. “all the crimes you blamed on the king were a trap set by my organization. And for the last two years, you’ve danced very prettily for us while the royal family and army tried desperately to stop us.”

Instead of rallying, the rebel’s face continued to fall as Crocodile continued.

“You’d have died a happier man if you hadn’t discovered the truth,” Crocodile finished with a laugh.

The delicious look of paralyzing shock was wiped off the rebels face by just three sentences from the King. It was annoying. Cobra really was a good, competent king. Crocodile had wished many times over the past decade and a half that the sandiest island with reports of hints towards the ancient weapons hadn’t been ruled by someone like Cobra. It had taken him so long because of the man.

And then the jackal just had to speak, somehow still alive.

Crocodile stabbed him through and watched the rebel begin to run through the courtyard in a blind panic.

And then Princess Vivi proved she was her father’s daughter, stopping him with force without injuring. She explained so quickly that Kohza couldn’t cause panic if he wanted to help. Needing so few words to regain trust and guide her subject to a better path.

Crocodile couldn’t help but compliment her insight under his breath, even as he ran through all the provisions he’d taken to make sure there’d be panic and bloodshed no matter what with a smile on his face.

Still, he didn’t want the odds turning around. Panic would do to keep chances in his favor. The princess was just as good at her father at calmly rallying her subjects.

Crocodile rushed down and through the courtyard, intending to strike through the princess.

“Do you really think I’ll just stand by and let you do that?” he asked with a growl, reforming behind her back, hook already drawn and swinging down. The rebel was pulling out his weapon, too little, too late, too far.

And the jackal, somehow, somehow, was there, still alive and bleeding and breathing, intercepting his hook.

“The guardian deity of Alabasta, the jackal! All enemies of the royal family… must be destroyed! As long as there’s a spark of life in me… I will fight on!” the jackal panted out.

So the man wanted to claim a spark of divinity? Crocodile sneered slightly at the idea. His paltry faith was blinding and weak. Crocodile had seen those far closer to gods, including protective ones. The man was a single pebble of sand in comparison to those abilities.

“Yes, you’re a magnificent fool,” Crocodile twisted.

The fool claimed he could stall Crocodile for a few minutes, and Crocodile let the children run. There was a clear hint of panicked desperation to them both now. They were going to try a straightforward approach, clearly, probably try a verbal ceasefire. He had enough agents in both crowds to make it fail.

This had all been planned for too long for the two of them to stop in this moment.

So he really had this whole thing planned out for months, huh?

Ivankov handed him an alcohol wipe to clean his arm.

Mmfufu, so it would seem, Croco-boy.

What’s that supposed to mean?

What do vou think?

It’s obviously his “revolutionary” long-term planning, but you’d give me a straightforward gloat if that was actually the case, so what is it actually?

And vwhy should Vi tell that little secret?

Because you like to gloat.

Tsk-tsk, vou and Drago-boy both. All schemes and no fun make for very dull boys, yee-haw! But Vi shall tell vou anyways.

Crocodile rolled his eyes.

Do enlighten me.

Since vou begged so prettily, I shall! Mmfufufu! Drago-boy didn’t plan this out at all. He just messed with those weapons when given the opportunity months ago. He does it a lot, calls it “evening the playing field” instead of “stacking the deck” since the deck was stacked against us first. Either the duds are used against him, other operatives, or they gum up the Marines’ missions anyways. It’s all good outcomes for us.

Uh-huh, and how many of these side-sabotages pay off?

Ivankov waived a hand.

Enough.

Sounds like a waste.

And yet, it paid off yet again! Vou know, Croco-boy, if vou want payoffs, vou have to lay the groundwork. Drago-boy doesn’t have to put his eggs in as many baskets as he does, since he’s playing such a long term game. If you’re going to go fast like vou are, vou might want to add a few more baskets yourself.

And here I thought you decided I needed to slow down.

Vou can do that too, or both! But if Vou are going to keep going fast and narrow like this, be ready to push your determination to the brink. If you’re only burning the one candlewick, it needs to last.

Ivankov had gotten to Crocodile’s eye-level during the lecture, staring intently. Crocodile kept his poker face for a moment longer, filing the words away. Then he sneered.

If I wanted advice from a purple puffball in fishnets, I’d go to the reef on the other side of the island. You seem to have gotten your hormonal medicine confused with therapy.

Mmfufu, yes yes, Croco-boy, I get it, hurry up the injections since vou are in such a rush.

Crocodile didn’t move his sneer even as Ivankov’s nails grew notably more than usual for the injections.

Crocodile watched the plaza devolve into bloody chaos. Over-sowing guaranteed reaping.

The king yelled his daughter away. Crocodile wasn’t sure if it was fatherly love or a ruler’s pragmatism – Crocodile wouldn’t ever have a complete takeover if the heir was still alive. Perhaps the man didn’t even bother to separate the two, given how nicely both reasons led him to the same actions.

The princess had too much spine, though, too much fire. A single candle, burning out at both ends with the fire of youth – so assured and motivated by her clumsy self-righteousness. She rejected her father’s plea.

The bit of brains attached to her didn’t help stem the foolishness.

“This dust storm is your work, isn’t it?” she asked, voice and face calm like the platonic ideal of royalty her and her father seemed to be most of the time. “There’s still hope! If I can prevent the explosion, I can lessen the number of casualties!”

Crocodile couldn’t help have his face curl in disgust as she continued.

“If you can do this, you can stop the rebellion. If you can do that, you can stop the rebellion,” he growled. It was pathetic naivety. A backend reaction, versus all of his plans? All of his work?

“Wake up princess-” he rushed forward and lifted her by the throat, so easily with his speed, even if he’d been playing it slow for over a decade “-your idealism makes me want to vomit.”

The princess grabbed his wrist, still panting and struggling. Crocodile’s face fell further.

She was about to die and she still wouldn’t learn. It was annoying.

“Only those with true power can afford to have ideals.” The princess was no Dragon, nor a royal from a family that fought bloodily to keep their throne. Her family ruled so long as it was convenient enough to the masses around her, with no power beyond that abstraction.

“I don’t care what you think! I’ll never abandon my ideals!” She interrupted him, “People like you could never understand! As princess, I’m responsible for the welfare of my people!”

“What a brat you are,” Crocodile commented, mainly to himself. He tightened his grip a little.

“I will… save this…” the princess tried to continue.

Crocodile made the not-quite sandstorm pick up, drowning out whatever annoying words the princess screamed next.

When she finally began to run out of steam, he allowed the storm to lessen around them.

“The plaza is going to be destroyed in fifteen minutes and the rebels are still gathering here,” he explained, “they’re rushing blindly to their doom. If you had warned the royal army of the explosion earlier it might have caused a panic, but you could have saved thousands of lives. Your naive belief that you can save everyone will only result in the annihilation of your beloved people!”

The king could plead, the princess could cry, and still it wouldn’t change the fact that they hadn’t done enough, couldn’t catch up. By the time the sun had dawned that morning, they had been in checkmate with no way to really win, and now they hadn’t had the pragmatic foresight to save what they could instead of insisting on ideals.

He had the princess dangling over the edge of the palace now.

“I’ve been laughing at you from the beginning. This kingdom is full of fools!” He hammered in.

“You spied on my organization for two years. Well done-” it showed the princess had had potential, she had infiltrated Baroque Works at only fourteen. Perhaps if she and the king had swapped generations, none of this would have worked at all “-but in the end, all your efforts were in vain. Your wishful attempts to pacify the rebels and save the kingdom only multiplied the death toll! This kingdom is doomed. You can’t save it!”

Ah fuck, he was monologuing.

Crocodile quickly checked the battle below and, after confirming the level of chaos to be enough, dissolved his arm and hand so the princess had nothing to grab onto. She fell, teeth still gritted as she tried to not break down, blue hair streaking past – far more visible than her tears – as gravity took hold.

He half-turned, opening his mouth and lifting his head to put on a show for the king.

Before he could laugh, though, the paltry bit of sun visible through the dust blinked.

Crocodile dropped his reformed arm, stilling and narrowing his eyes to get a better look. There was something approaching from the air.

It drew closer. He could begin to make out a few blobs of shapes.

He couldn’t work out what it was, but the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end.

There were scarce few times in his life when his instincts cautioned him to be wary with so little information. Once when he had almost been murdered as a child, once when he met Dragon, and twice during his battle with Whitebeard – once at the beginning and again right before his hand was taken.

The shape drew nearer, working out to be a bird – the other guardian, it had to be, somehow – with something on its back.

He knew what colors looked like through sandstorms quite well.

Red, blue, black, and an odd impression of vibrant yellow that didn’t really exist.

When the bird dropped to about a giant’s height from his position, he could confirm the colors, that there was a person on the bird’s back, and who it was.

“Impossible!” Crocodile choked out as his face tensed up.

His heart was beating, urging him to run.

He should, somehow, some part of him knew he should. A corner of him was certain that he couldn’t beat the boy anymore than he had been able to beat Whitebeard or Dragon.

But that made no sense. He knew he was stronger, more experienced, and if he retreated now, his years of planning would come apart.

“Crocodile!” the boy yelled, loud enough that it could clearly be heard over the storm, perhaps even by some of those below them.

“Luffy," the voice of the princess called up, still falling.

“Straw Hat,” he growled.

Then the boy had the gall to ignore him – again, after just calling his name – to swoop down and rescue the princess like the worst joke of a knight in shining armor.

It made sense, sure, but Crocodile was more than willing to count any offense against him when it came to Straw Hat.

The boy settled the princess safely on the ground with the guardian and exchanged a few words before quickly turning back up to him. Crocodile continued to gather sand around him, strategically lessening the storm in other places to save his energy for the fight.

“How did you get out of the quicksand?” he asked, taking in a deep inhale of his cigar. He would want to finish it quickly before the fight.

Crocodile considered sending down an attack, but then a group of clearly Straw Hat Pirates showed up. He wondered for a moment if they were planning a proper strategy, but then two rubbery hands reached the crenelations on either side of him while the other pirates took a step back.

Well, if they weren’t going to stack the odds in their favor with numbers, Crocodile wasn’t going to get in their way.

The boy launched up towards him at high speed. It wouldn’t matter. The boy could use no haki, so a logia like him would always win.

“Swing until you’re blue in the face, you’ll still never hit me. Must I skewer you again?!” The brat was like a toddler testing new mobility against their parents, annoying and uselessly pathetic.

He let himself begin to turn to sand a half second before the fist swung through where-

Pain.

Pain and his body moved to the side, his teeth had cut something – probably his lip – and his nose was bleeding as well, maybe broken, maybe not.

He went sailing head over heels halfway across the courtyard. He and Straw Hat skidded to a stop at about the same time.

Armament haki? No, it didn’t feel quite right, although Crocodile hadn’t had to deal with haki for a while so it was still possible.

“Hmph, blasted runt,” he taunted. He could at least keep a psychological upper hand.

Haki was unlikely. Perhaps Straw Hat had taken seastone from Smoker and his marines. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the fist that had hit him so that seemed more likely. It had been quick enough that he wouldn’t have felt much of any effect beyond being solid.

Hands grabbed onto the shoulders of his coat. He chanced a look. He could handle another hit so the information was worth it. There was no additional wrapping around the hands with stone on top. But the hands were shiny, in a way Crocodile didn’t like.

It was impossible, did that kid really- Crocodile didn’t get to finish the thought before a hit landed on the underside of his jaw with brutal force and solidity. He barely had enough time to grit his teeth so he wouldn’t bite his tongue.

It didn’t really help that much. He fell to the ground.

Crocodile couldn’t help but start to laugh before he even tried to get up as Straw Hat explained the obvious water trick.

This kid was impossible.

Yes, he really had coated his hands and feet in water. True, it would cause more damage to Crocodile’s powers, make him completely solid and much quicker than other logias whose element was naturally solidified by water. But even without the complete draining of energy, a devil fruit user coating themselves in water meant powers were limited to nonexistent.

The hands and feet that had hit him should have been solid flesh and bone, no rubber at all. And they were still that strong.

Ridiculously, impossibly strong.

That sort of natural body strength was New World level, not the sort of thing a greenhorn from East Blue should have.

Straw Hat was apparently an impossibility. Despite what everyone had thought, or even noticed but then disregarded, Straw Hat was the one most likely to upstage Crocodile and his plans, even though it should have been impossible at this stage.

He quickly glanced at the clock tower as he sat up. Ten minutes.

Straw Hat continued to look straight at him, eyes small with focus and face determined.

“You again? Do you really think you can beat me?”

“That’s right,” was Straw Hat’s simple answer. As if beating him would be as simple as splashing water on his hands.

“I’m surprised you figured out my weakness in those circumstances. But there’s no way you’ll ever defeat me, boy. You’re not in my league. I am one of the seven warlords of the sea!” He’d been picked for multiple, very good reasons, reasons that could cow and intimidate scores of pirates.

“If you’re one of the seven warlords of the sea then I’m… the eighth warlord of the sea!” Straw Hat declared.

Crocodile fought off the urge to hide his face in embarrassment. The child was clearly an idiot through and through who hadn’t understood the poor jab he’d just blabbered, which meant he also hadn’t understood Crocodile’s intimidating boast.

There was nothing more annoying than a puffed up idiot being so stupid he thought you were the puffed up idiot.

Dragon had managed to be a bit more annoying a few times though, when the man had cut to the quick with allies and enemies alike, tossing aside status of himself and everyone around them for what Dragon deemed important in the moment. Pure sophistry, even more ridiculous than Crocodile’s pirate selfishness because Crocodile clearly knew what he was doing.

The boy tried a third attack from halfway across the courtyard, still using the same patterns as before.

Crocodile dodged with barely any effort.

“What good is that if it can’t hit me? Even if it’s wet-” he grabbed the wet end of the arms stretched out right to his face “-my palm can suck the moisture out of anything.”

The direct water made it take longer than normal, but it was still a threat.

Straw Hat was, unfortunately though, not a complete idiot when it came to combat, and certainly not a coward. The boy used Crocodile’s own hand as an anchor and snapped towards him feet first.

Crocodile had to turn to sand completely – releasing the arm – to avoid the attack.

Crocodile smiled, preparing to wait for the next stretched out attack he could follow back to the body, dry out the idiot from one stretched out limb alone.

Except when he half-turned to look, the boy was covering himself completely with water.

“You said it yourself,” the boy called out across the courtyard, “devil fruit powers are only as strong as the person using them!”

The next attack was quick, clearly well-practiced, and certainly not an application of a rubber body a lazy amateur could come up with or use.

Crocodile barely dodged the seeming multiple hands with a grunt.

He had to take a moment as skid out of the way to process the new information.

Straw Hat’s powers were practically unaffected by being covered in water. The boy’s words indicated he thought he could overcome the paramecia version of fresh-water’s effects through strength alone – either physical or will, Crocodile didn’t know.

But that wasn’t how the rules of devil fruits worked.

Another impossibility of Straw Hat’s.

Battle wasn’t the time to dissect the why though, just use the information.

Crocodile threw a desert spada vehemently, cutting through ground and stone and causing more notable damage than he wanted when Straw Hat dodged precisely.

Straw Hat stretched yet another punch to him. Crocodile watched it calmly. It was a clear enough attack that he could turn to sand before it touched him.

“The same trick over and over again. You expect to beat me like that?!” he asked as he watched the punch.

Timing his dodge correctly would lead to the best timing for a counterattack.

“Yep!” Straw Hat said cheerily, far too closely. “I know I will!”

Crocodile’s eyes refocused to a few steps in front of him, where Straw Hat suddenly was.

The boy apparently knew how to use himself as a mid-air anchor.

Crocodile managed to bring his hook up in time, the metal taking the blow.

He felt the force of it reverberate through every grain of bone in him. If it had hit him properly, he would have taken serious damage again.

Straw Hat could attack, properly, trying to make each blow a knock-out blow. If he had shown any evidence of standard form, Crocodile would have presumed him well-trained, and that would have explained some of Straw Hat’s impossibilities. But there was nothing beyond making a proper fist. Straw Hat clearly had no formal training. He was not well-trained, he was well-practiced. A brat from East Blue shouldn’t have this much practical battle experience. It was another impossibility.

Crocodile hit the ground.

“This was my plan from the very start!” Straw Hat cried, a sloshing sound accompanying the words, finally, “to get you soaking wet!” the barrel sloshed again, clearly no longer attached to Straw Hat.

“I expected that,” Crocodile pointed out, letting lose a small tornado of sand from his hand. He couldn’t make it too big or last for too long with the storm he was still stirring down below.

Straw Hat and the barrel were swept away into the air. The barrel wasn’t sent far enough away to be out of Straw Hat’s reach, unfortunately. The boy caught the barrel and landed on his feet with a grunt but no further harm.

Time to keep playing up the psychological, then.

“You seem desperate, Straw Hat,” Crocodile laughed, making his voice taunting, “without that barrel, you’re helpless. Which means this battle will end exactly as our first one did!” Now that the barrel wasn’t secured to his back, Straw Hat had no chance of keeping it for even a minute later.

“You’re right,” Straw Hat said after a moment, far too evenly. The agreement wasn’t a good thing for him, Crocodile’s instincts told him.

It took certainly less than two seconds, perhaps even under one. Straw Hat brought the barrel’s nozzle up to his mouth and then the boy expanded.

Even if his body was rubber, that shouldn’t have been possible. Not physically, and certainly not psychologically.

What kind of person could even think of this?

“How’s this then?! I’m no longer the same!” Straw Hat declared.

“You’re unhinged,” Crocodile let out, unable to stop himself or come up with a better word.

“Water Luffy,” Straw Hat titled himself, “so there.”

And water he was, some dribbling out from a wound. Which meant Straw Hat had an open would to his stomach and he was still doing this.

Was this boy… serious? He was going to fight a warlord of the sea, Crocodile of the sand-sand fruit, in a desert environment Crocodile was familiar with, bloated with water and heavily injured, including a severe stomach injury?

He could hear Miss All-Sunday laughing behind him. Crocodile refused to laugh at the impossible farce before him.

He’d met Ds before. He’d met and fought seasoned New World monsters. They could sometimes manage such feats, but they were deliberately done things. Not this. In the New World, they would look for a chance to retreat or hand the fight off. Ds may try this sort of ridiculous stupidity, but for grand, swansong fights they knew they were outclassed in.

And Dragon had always managed to thread the needle, dancing in and out, retreating when needed but still taking down the opponent after him. Running over scenarios with Crocodile in verbal spars where Crocodile called him stupid for wanting his ideals and not greedy enough in the same minute. Plans tended to change and get grander after those talks, more surefire too.

Straw Hat Luffy was not doing any of those things, exactly, as far as Crocodile could tell.

It was almost as if he didn’t realize what trouble he was in. But the boy so experienced in combat had to realize it. Which left one possibility.

Mockery and a level of acting Crocodile hadn’t thought possible from the boy. But Straw Hat was all impossibilities.

“I’ll teach you to play around with me, boy?!” Crocodile yelled, not even caring anymore about his usual rules of combat as he rushed forward.

Somehow, impossibly, Straw Hat turned towards him and shot a bubble of water out of his mouth like a canon.

It was physically impossible and Crocodile couldn’t dodge, taking the water head on.

Fuck.

“Who’s playing around?!” the idiot asked as Crocodile realized how badly he had messed up, most important parts of his body horrifically, humanly, flesh and blood, “I’m always serious!” Straw Hat declared before hitting him right in the stomach.

The blows from earlier came back with a vengeance as Straw Hat hit him with that impossible strength again.

He flew into a building. Heavy stone fell on him. He was still too wet to turn to sand properly, so he curled up.

It only took a few moments for the stone to finish falling and settle.

Alabasta was a place primarily occupied by default-humans, and had very little variations in size compared to so many Grand Line islands like the one he came from. The building had been built for such sizes so it felt more like a half-wall had fallen on him.

He pulled himself out of the rubble to find Miss All-Sunday preparing to drag the king away to the ponegliff, but dawdling. He didn’t tolerate that much on a good, unimportant day in situations he had under control.

“Hurry and go, Nico Robin,” he ordered, reminding her who he had sheltered and why he had been interested enough to employ her in one insult, “unless you want to die too. I’ve no more patience for this.”

It was time to stop mucking about, playing with caution to make things as smooth and easy as possible. If he had to pull out his trump cards on a greenhorn from East Blue, then let him. Anyone who thought it was overkill could trip up on their own impossibilities.

Miss All-Sunday picked up the king a second later to begin moving. Crocodile placed his hand on the grass part of the lawn.

Psychological warfare hadn’t actually worked against Straw Hat, but talking could provably distract him.

“Watch, Straw Hat… as I make every piece of rock in this courtyard… disintegrate,” Crocodile enticed. His breath was coming out a little too hard as his injuries demanded more care and energy than he could give while using this much of his powers, but it was enough to keep Straw Hat interested and observing instead of attacking.

The grass and trees were easy. They needed water and kept it in usable, accessible form. The water glutted into his sand easily. From there, it could easily be distributed around enough grains until it was worthless.

For things that already had their little moisture distributed enough to be considered dry by most, it was much harder.

Sending sand through moist things until they lost form was easy. For things like solid stone, he’d had to develop a completely different technique.

He started with drawing out the water he could, leaving the courtyard cracked ruins. Straw Hat almost fell through the cracks, but of course saved himself. At this point Crocodile wasn’t expecting any better from the impossibility.

Straw Hat shot more water at him, but this time it was coming from halfway across the courtyard with no surprise.

Crocodile easily caught the water and sucked it up. Straw Hat was still surprised.

“Did you think you could defeat me like that? Eh, Water Luffy?” Crocodile taunted, glad his voice was more even now, showing ease he didn’t currently feel and certainly wouldn’t in the next few moments. He needed a few more seconds though.

“Well you were wrong. The essence of my sand-sand power lies in dehydration! Watch. My right hand dries up everything! Trees, rocks, even the ground itself!”

His powers really did lean towards dehydration, it was true. But not what he was doing here, even if it looked like it.

Crocodile let go of some of the storm below to make more sand and rush it through the cracks.

He could control sand, he could make sand. He could use that sand to quickly dry things out at otherwise impossible speeds. But the key for this, after he’d crumbled the ground as much as he could from dehydration, was his control of sand.

Sand could be made from any solid material if it was small enough. Small enough to not be a pebble but bigger than silt.

He rubbed the rubble of the courtyard as quickly as he could, flaking off the right sized grains to make more sand that added to his efforts.

Starting from the underlayer and making its way up, it would look like the courtyard was shifting and sinking as if it was drying up, sand bursting up, even if the actual process was far more complicated.

“Everything around me will become a desert!” Crocodile yelled over the shifting hiss, keeping his voice as even as possible, even if came out huskier than normal.

This technique took so much concentration and energy.

Thankfully, Straw Hat Luffy was impressed enough to continue the show for him.

“The rocks… even the statues are turning into sand! The ground is drying up!” Straw Hat Luffy exclaimed. “Ack! Even my sandals!” Ah, was that what the odd blip had been?

“Everything that this palm falls upon, shrivels up and dies!” Crocodile managed to get out. Straw Hat Luffy was yelling in fear, clearly putting together what the danger was now.

“Ground Death!” Crocodile declared, kicking up extra sand as he made the last push. He was most vulnerable at this moment, he couldn’t afford to do anything but push forward as dramatically as possible as a deterrent.

The ground hit its turning point when Crocodile expected, enough of the mass becoming his sand that it took under three seconds to complete the job.

The most reasonable, impossible way to avoid his ground death would be to jump onto the palace’s roof. So that was where Crocodile looked, shifting into sand himself.

As expected, his impossibility was up there, clinging to a railing and surveying the damage.

Straw Hat Luffy looked right, so he shifted up the left of the palace. He got close enough that he reformed an ear as well as his eye.

“That was close! That guy’s right hand is dangerous-” of course this annoying impossibility had picked up on that. His current main weakness was his mental reliance on his hand for control. He was only starting to work on that now that his techniques were powerful enough “-the lawn turned into a desert!”

Straw Hat Luffy stayed still, continuing to watch the courtyard instead of hauling himself up. Crocodile took the disappointingly easy opening without mercy.

“You’re making me waste my energy!” Crocodile growled.

Straw Hat Luffy was a dangerous impossibility, but he was also still a largely instinctual idiot. He turned to look at Crocodile, giving perfect access to that small, child-sized neck.

Crocodile grabbed on with his completely dry hand. Straw Hat Luffy shot more water at him. Crocodile shifted, dodging easily.

“You missed,” Crocodile pointed out with a smirk. The brat tried to say his name as he dried out the body with ease. “you lose, Straw Hat.”

He took every drop of water he could, until the wrinkles were as prominent as all his other victims, despite the rubber body’s elasticity. That was death.

“You make a good corpse,” he gloated. Now that he’d finished the brat off, it wasn’t a risk.

Crocodile pushed past the niggling in the back of his head at his missing instincts, usually purring in satisfaction when he succeeded in killing someone so dangerous to his plans.

“In six minutes, the palace square will be blown sky high, along with this lawn,” he commented, checking the clocktower.

He let go of the dry wisp that had been his enemy, letting him flutter to the ground.

“So stay and celebrate the coming of the sand kingdom’s new king.” If there was any hope in reviving his impossible opponent, it would end with the body being vaporized. “Sorry, time is short. I must be going too. The royal mausoleum is west of here.”

Finally, he caught his breath enough and recouped enough energy. And Straw Hat still hadn’t moved. Crocodile shifted to sand and moved. It was time to get Pluton and grab his goal.

For someone so… cautious, vou really aught to know better.

Since when do you mince words?

Crocodile knew. He knew Ivankov only minced words when trying to be, ugh, sensitive.

Vou like to retreat, at least compared to Drago-boy, when plans go awry especially.

Crocodile scoffed as he finished stitching up his arm.

Yes, but I’m a greedy, selfish pirate, as I’ve told you and Dragon multiple times. I wanted the weapon, so I went after it. I wasn’t breaking this little smuggle and extra muscle agreement you lot have with me.

And who has complained to me about wrathful dragon breath before, hm? Vou knew what would happen if vou got in his way of making sure the mission succeeded, since he was already angry. And that vou can’t beat him when he gets like that. Usually vou would step back and take it out in a spar later. Or have vou turned into a masochist? Mmfufu.

An alcohol wipe was handed over. At least Ivankov was letting him do his injections now. Just this month and the next left.

I wanted it for future use. Didn’t expect Dragon’s anger to be so sentimental. Just because a fancy gun was used to kill a lieutenant of his and some sympathizing civilians doesn’t mean it has to be destroyed. The Marines would have found a way to kill the lot anyways.

How cynical of you, Croco-boy!

I’m no idealist. And Dragon’s not selfish enough for me to predict that kind of sentimentality. He moves too slow for it.

Mmfufufu! If someone combined your selfish greed and Drago-boy’s raging, unquenchable ideals, then Vi think the world wouldn’t be able to keep up with the rapid chaos that would cause.

Forget the ideals, if you combined my greed with his stubbornness, you’d get a world-class tyrant. Do you really want to see that?

Sounds like a person who could match all those Celestials and their World Government in one person, yee-haw! No, thank you!

Having Dragon’s stubborn rage… it really would be a boon, in a number of ways. It would also inevitably involve most of the world as an enemy. Still, Crocodile wouldn’t mind too much, he didn’t think, if it was him playing tyrant. Going after goals unrelentingly could be a good thing, and he’d keep himself from becoming idiotic about refusing reality.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

The king had pulled his last, useless card. It wasn’t him. Crocodile glanced down at Nico Robin, still putting all of her energy into staying conscious with her wound. Not her either.

It couldn’t be the Marine swordswoman, Crocodile had left her alive because she was far too weak and injured, even by Nico Robin’s softness that led to sprained joints instead of death. It had been amusingly pathetic.

Captain Smoker? No, that wasn’t right.

An unknown, then.

Crocodile tensed and relaxed his muscles, preparing for a fight.

Stone broke, scattering dust and regular sand. A figure emerged through the quickly settling dust.

“You-” Crocodile bit out before cutting himself off.

Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous and completely impossible.

“I found you, Croc,” Straw Hat Luffy declared, simply. Simply like it had been an easy, inevitable thing for a dead man to do.

“Why won’t you die?” Crocodile let himself ask. Psychological warfare hadn’t really worked except as a distraction. It wouldn’t matter if he let himself vent at this opponent. “I keep killing you and you keep coming back for more! Eh, Straw Hat?! How many times must I kill you?!”

Why couldn’t the boy just stay in the ground when Crocodile put him there? He was a misbehaving brat, an impossible one.

Crocodile had never managed to figure out how to fight off impossible monsters. That was what Pluton was supposed to be for. He didn’t need any more impossibilities around until then.

“You haven’t given back what you stole,” Straw Hat Luffy said, still with that frustratingly simple tone.

He was a fucking pirate. That didn’t narrow it down.

“What thing that I stole? Money? Honor? Trust? Life? Or the rain?” he asked, sliding back into a taunting tone with his laugh. “Which one do you want me to give back? I’ve stolen many things.”

“The kingdom,” Straw Hat Luffy answered. His gaze was as even as his tone, dropping down to something more serious. But still so frustratingly simple, like the world would bend around him to follow his thoughtline.

He also hadn’t finished stealing the kingdom yet.

“The kingdom?!” he scoffed, “You say such funny things. I’m about to take over the kingdom now, once I become the ruler of this land!”

“When we set foot on this land, this kingdom of hers was long gone!” Straw Hat declared, voice keeping a solid tone but raising in anger and danger in a way Crocodile hadn’t heard from anyone in some time, “if this really were her kingdom… she’d be laughing a lot more!”

Straw Hat Luffy was yelling the bit in a growl as he jumped forward. Crocodile let him, trying to figure out what the hell the impossible brat was talking about.

He dismissed it as his opponent drew close. It was some sort of overwhelming ideal, clearly, nonsensical and not about reality, a motivation Crocodile knew from experience he wouldn’t understand, so it wasn’t worth the distraction of trying to.

Straw Hat Luffy took one more leap, pulling his leg back for what would clearly be a kick.

“Fool! You don’t even have any water with you!” Crocodile pointed out, raising his hook to prepare a counterstrike after the blow went through him, “what could you possibly-”

His face snapped to the side with a blossom of pain. He was taking too many headshots from these fights.

He crashed into a wall. His brain finally caught up to register the impossibility. Straw Hat Luffy had no water. How was he able to kick him?

Was it haki? Was he so out of practice he hadn’t felt its presence? Had Straw Hat Luffy managed to acquire armament haki in the past day?

Fuck, he needed to figure this impossibility out.

He barely managed to stand when Straw Hat Luffy was suddenly in front of him, calling out his name like a condemnation.

“Wait-” he let out pointlessly.

A fist hit him this time. Square between the eyes and solid.

Had he just seen-

He hit the ground almost as hard as he had been hit. He’d have to be wary of a concussion.

“You… did you” he panted out as he wobbled into almost sitting position, “use your blood?!”

“Blood can make sand harden too, right?” Straw Hat Luffy asked him as he walked forward, voice and gaze far too calm and even for the rage Crocodile knew he was acting on.

The same tone and expression, with different words against different people. The same words directed at him with a lilting smile and tone during a more serious spar. All from someone he never really beat, who by the end he knew he couldn’t even compete with.

Crocodile’s pants turned into laughs. “Fine. First in the desert outside Rainbase… then in the royal palace… and now in this underground mausoleum… die a third and final time!” Third time’s the charm and all that. Crocodile was sick and tired of giving up against the impossible too, he could learn to do this too. “I’ll reward your persistence-” Straw Hat Luffy launched an attack that he dodged easily “-but as a pirate!”

He took the cover off of his hook. Poison resistance was improbable. But if Straw Hat Luffy did have such a skill, then the inner hook was sharper anyways.

“I must admit, your never-ending drive to defeat me is impressive-” and the most dangerous thing about him “-you’re an irritating fool, but a worthy foe.”

Straw Hat Luffy watched the cover fall away, watching, observing while conserving energy. He really did have an impossible amount of battle experience.

“It came off… what’s that?” Straw Hat Luffy asked.

This was going to be a simple battle of will and weapons, might as well make it so.

“A poisonous hook.”

“I get it,” Straw Hat Luffy said, voice still simple, but with depth behind it, like the open ocean in its rarely calm moments.

“Then you understand. We’re both pirates. And when pirates fight, it’s to the death. There’s no rules in combat! When the square above us explodes, this place will be buried instantly. This is the end. Let’s settle this once and for all!” Crocodile laid down the next few minutes.

Straw Hat Luffy’s expression didn’t change as he listened and they slid into battle stances. For all his idealism and childishness, Straw Hat Luffy was a proper pirate, perfectly willing to put his life on the line with no regrets. It had been a while since Crocodile had met someone else like him, instead of those with greed too pathetic to make them proper pirates.

Straw Hat Luffy was strong, but he was primarily a lithe fighter. It suited his body type and devil fruit. Speed and acrobatics made him hard to hit, and his combat style versatile. They exchanged blows several times.

Crocodile had superior strength and size, and more lethal weapons, but he had to be wary of his own poison hook.

They exchanged blows again and Straw Hat Luffy managed to clip him. At the same time Crocodile nicked him. The impossibility proved he still had that impossible battle experience by continuing the attack, using the moment Crocodile needed to stabilize himself to ax-kick his neck, sending him crashing and rolling.

Crocodile couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve impaled you, I’ve buried you alive, I’ve dried you up, but every time you’ve come back,” he listed, “However, you won’t come back from this. I’ve won, soon the poison will start to take effect.”

The wound itself was sizzling from how caustic the poison was for such a small body.

“You still don’t get it,” Straw Hat Luffy told him, voice and face still so irritably even.

So familiar.

Crocodile had enough of ideologues.

“What don’t I get?” Crocodile growled out angrily.

Straw Hat Luffy attacked him again. He retreated to avoid the weird, multi-punch attack.

“Don’t you get it yet?! You’re going to die from the poison in your wound. Feeling numb yet?” he just needed to bide time at this point. It had worked before. “No matter whether you win or lose, you’ll never be able to leave this tomb alive. You’ve taken a lot of hits in our three battles, it’s a wonder you’re still standing-”

Straw Hat Luffy cried out as he launched at attack that Crocodile dodged with an easy sidestep. He fell from his own attack. Clearly the poison was working. “Why do you keep fighting?!” Crocodile couldn’t help but ask.

No matter the impossibilities he operated in, the boy should be retreating now.

He’d never met someone so selfishly determined to the point of their own detriment.

“This kingdom is nothing to you! You’re doing all this on someone else’s behalf! Why would you sacrifice your very life?! What’s a friend or two?! Abandon them and spare yourself from all the trouble! Don’t be such a fool!!” Crocodile yelled. He didn’t know why he was lecturing the boy. Straw Hat Luffy was an enemy rushing to his own doom, the fact that he was doing so shouldn’t be what was annoying Crocodile right now, and yet, it was.

Vi think, Croco-boy, that I finally figured out why vou push so hard in these scream fights.

Hah?

You’re actually protective of Drago-boy, aren’t vou?

What kind of nonsense-

It’s not Drago-boy himself that annoys vou, it’s the way he does things that makes vou worry about him, hm? That’s vwhy you go try to kill him while yelling at him to stop being stupid, no?

Crocodile stared at Ivankov like the okama had grown a second, or even just small, head.

Vou can’t fool me anymore, Croco-boy, even if you’re fooling yourself. If you didn’t want Drago-boy to be safe, you’d just sit back, watch, and laugh like vou do for everyone else. A lecture during a spar is how vou fret, mmfufufu!

Crocodile shook himself out of the irrelevant memory. A battle was no time for a flashback. Straw Hat Luffy was already getting back up.

“Like I said before, you just don’t get it. Vivi keeps telling people not to sacrifice their own lives, but she’s always putting her own life in danger to save other people. If we don’t help her, she’ll get killed! You people will kill her!!” Straw Hat lectured back as he pushed himself up.

“I don’t get you-” he shouldn’t care, it would kill himself like he was saying it would kill the princess, it was counter-intuitive sophistry “-all you have to do is walk away and-”

“I don’t want Vivi to die! Because she’s my friend!” the boy yelled. The hairs on the back of Crocodile’s neck stood up at the rage in the selfish, contradictorily self-centered words. “As long as she keeps fighting to save her kingdom, then so will we!”

“Even if you die?” Crocodile asked. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer, from the blood spilled just for the sake of hitting him.

“If we die, we die!” Straw Hat Luffy declared without hesitation.

Crocodile had assumed the acceptance of the risk of death earlier was a pirate’s attitude. The lack of care for calculating that risk when pursuing goals shown here belonged more to Dragon’s ilk, the consummately determined ideologues.

Straw Hat Luffy’s ideals, though, seemed to be hedonistic selfishness. He liked the princess and wanted her to laugh, so he’d fight to the death for her to do so.

The brat was right about one thing, Crocodile would never really understand him.

Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to.

Straw Hat Luffy fell to his knees. Crocodile laughed.

“You can yap all you want, but it’s getting harder to move, isn’t it? It serves you right, Straw Hat!” Straw Hat Luffy’s torso hit the ground next, one arm trying to prop him up while Crocodile continued to laugh. “As if you could ever defeat me! Ridiculous! No matter how much you care about your comrades, no matter how much you defy me, or try to thwart my plans, if you can’t beat me now, then everything you people have done was in vain! A pup like you is simply no match for a real pirate. That’s the way it is and you can’t change it! It’s over!”

The tomb was still sinking but he could get out. Straw Hat Luffy was dying on the ground along with the other two. So many years of caution and greed were finally paying off, all the obstacles removed.

It should have felt like the relief of the first drag of a cigar.

The back of his neck still prickled, something in his gut twisting in dangerous anticipation.

Fine, perhaps he needed a little more time, a little more payoff, to settle things down.

The king was still cognizant it appeared.

“Did you know, King Cobra, that your daughter is currently trying to run around and defuse a bomb with a very pretty wick?” He asked.

The king’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Seemed he finally learned how to act around Crocodile’s true character. Crocodile smiled, showing all his teeth too wide.

“It’s very easy to attach a purely decorative or even second wick to a bomb, especially one that’s big enough to destroy most of this city,” he hinted.

The king’s face twisted, for once turning away from the patient, calm, dignified ideal he had kept for years without fail.

“You treacherous fiend!” the king hissed.

“You could at least say I’m meticulous, King Cobra. When formulating a plan, you need to anticipate every eventuality. If anything should prevent my people from firing the cannon-” like an impossible gaggle of random teenagers playing pirates with a princess despite being up against seasoned assassins and bounty hunters “-the bomb is set to self detonate. It’s just a few seconds more… I’d hoped to fire it into the center of the square, but either way the damage will be catastrophic,” Crocodile confirmed with a laugh.

A shiver started from the back of his neck.

Crocodile scanned around. No. No, he had gotten rid of everything in his way, he couldn’t allow anything to ruin it now!

Straw Hat Luffy was to his left side, half standing, blood and dust falling off of him like a reptile molting its skin.

He felt a fresh rush of adrenaline and turned to face Straw Hat Luffy more fully.

“I’ll… never…” Straw Hat Luffy panted out, trying to say something, “lose to a creep like you!”

The words carried, but they also carried weakness with them. The boy was more than spent. Crocodile smirked as he approached to finish Straw Hat Luffy off.

“Is that all you can muster?” he taunted, “you’re more dead than alive, Straw Hat. You’ve got nothing left but bluster! You’re finished!”

“I’m… gonna be king of the pirates!!” Straw Hat Luffy yelled, suddenly, with far more conviction than he declared he wasn’t going to lose.

A shocking declaration, to be sure, but not one Crocodile had any thoughts of respecting.

“Now you listen to me, brat. Those with a deep knowledge of the sea don’t make such claims easily-” he was just a hardy greenhorn with potential and a death catching up to him quicker, compared to those that understood the battle enough to be further along in it, Straw Hat Luffy had no right to the declaration “-Like I told you before, you’re an upstart with delusions of grandeur, like a thousand others! But the more you know about the sea, the more impossible such dreams will seem!” Crocodile pointed out. Everyone with intent and an actual chance were biding their time, slowly building up strength and waiting for their opportunity. They weren’t putting their mouth before their feet and barging into things they didn’t scout out like toddlers.

Crocodile lunged forward with his hook. It was time to end this.

Straw Hat Luffy didn’t move until Crocodile was within a body length of him, and then the boy was suddenly airborne and to the side, foot coming down on Crocodile’s hook. The force that pushed down on him felt like a half-giant’s body, breaking his hook against the Alabasta stone.

“I will defeat you,” Straw Hat Luffy declared as the hook went flying, his voice impossibly back to its even tone.

He took three blows in quick succession – new and old wounds bleeding alike – before he was on the ground suddenly and catching his breath as he pushed himself up.

The distilled scorpion poison should have been taking effect by now – had been taking effect, even. How was the brat able to use such strength now? It should be impossible.

But so had been the defeat at Whiskey Peak, and the survival of no-names at Little Garden when he’d ordered their deaths, and getting to Alabasta, and surviving the previous encounters with him. He was a no-name upstart that had come out of nowhere. Crocodile had planned and waited out his victory as much as he’d done the opposite to loss in his youth. This should have been impossible, the world’s rules changing, after so so long of him trying, failing, retreating and bending himself into someone who could succeed.

He clenched the end of his arm, releasing the short-sword that hadn’t seen daylight since it was put in.

“You insignificant pup! Do you realize who I am?!” He yelled as he thrust forward.

“I don’t care who you are!” Straw Hat Luffy immediately yelled back as he dodged, “I’m going to defeat you!”

The declaration was punctuated with a kick that sent him into the air, giving him more than enough room and time to prepare an actual attack.

“I’ll bury you along with this tomb,” Crocodile growled. He gathered sand to his hand and formed a sables pesado, sending it down to the tomb’s ground.

Straw Hat Luffy endured for a moment before shaking the cutting storm off, ignoring it as he distorted his body. Then Straw Hat Luffy was in front of him, in mid-air.

Crocodile transformed most of his right arm and sent a desert spada as he saw Straw Hat Luffy pull back his arm for another attack.

He had some feeling, some sense, of the sand he controlled. The more sand that had started as part of his body, the keener his sense of it. He could feel well enough even with the adrenaline, his spadas were sharp like a freshly forged blade. He felt, in almost slow-motion, a blunt fist push through, blood covered flesh clumping his sand and moving too fast to be absorbed. The spada collapsed.

Another fist hit, another few dozen. His attack pushed to shreds too fast for him to react, and then his body as well.

Pain on his front, pain on his back, and then cool air and biting wind.

The world turned grey and then black.

A thump at his back stirred him. He blearily opened his eyes.

There was a dark grey sky above him.

His limbs felt heavy, so heavy. There was pain from injuries, and, a moment later, he realized heaviness from being water-logged.

It was raining in Alabasta. He hadn’t had to deal with that for two years.

It should have been impossible.

This baby of yours really is impossible. Good for them, yee-haw!

What do you mean by that?

Too small given your and Drago-boy’s sizes, gone through vweird hormones, and had far too many scuffles when vou kept getting injured and knocked around these past few months, and yet! Still strong vitals! Vi expect a small, perhaps even default-sized baby out of vou in a month, mmfufu! Vi think your and Drago-boy’s stubbornness and hardiness may have added together for the little one.

I’d say I hope the fuck not but thankfully I won’t be dealing with this.

True, true.

Crocodile looked aside at the door. Ivankov unfortunately saw it.

Is it true that vou only told him yesterday?

Did everything get around your damn revolutionaries already?

Just that Drago-boy went to the liquor cabinet in the afternoon, mmfufufu! As far as Vi know, no one has even put “told he would be a father” in the betting pool yet.

Crocodile had told Dragon during the man’s in-office breakfast, so there probably weren’t many bets that he was the cause of the uncharacteristic day-drinking either.

It really was a selfish move of vou, though, to wait this long.

Pirate. Selfish and greedy is what I should be.

It’s quite impossible to react quickly enough to this sort of thing, vou know.

Indeed, Crocodile hadn’t wanted Dragon to stew on possibilities for long enough to make plans for a reason.

He’s impossible, and going after more impossibilities in life, what’s one more? And if he can’t handle it then it’s about time he got a taste of his own reality-bending impossible medicine.

Ivankov did laugh at probably one of a half-dozen incidents of them trying to keep up with Dragon’s impossibleness since Crocodile had started smuggling for the revolutionaries.

Vi am going to enjoy his bafflement, that is true, yee-haw! You’re too selfish for decency and he’s too determined for reality, no wonder vou two create such problems for each other.

I can’t tell if you’re referring to my medical appointment or yesterday’s appointment with the burning file cabinet.

Ivankov had the audacity to poke his nose jokingly with the hand not being cleaned after his injections.

Vi mean your whole relationship with each other. Drago-boy doesn’t like pushing people as much as he does vou, but vou have been able to actually take it. But since vou can take it and don’t want to change your self-centeredness, vou won’t tolerate all this fun for much longer.

We’re heading for a final. Real clash? Is that what you’re saying, eh? And just who are you betting on winning that clash?

Ivankov had the gall to eyeroll at his question.

No, you’re going to leave before that. Although if vou did, Drago-boy would win.

So Straw Hat Luffy had defeated him, huh?

If he’d gone all-out from the beginning, thrown away plans and outside perception and fought the brat full force when he took down Baroque Works at Whiskey Peak, or even when the pirate had first reached Alabasta, he would have beaten him.

Straw Hat Luffy had grown in his path to defeating Crocodile. It would take a while for things to get this difficult again for the boy while traveling through this part of the Grand Line, barring a few conspiracies that would take an impossible amount of luck to stumble into.

…

In the not unlikely event the brat’s impossibility continued to extend to luck, Crocodile was pretty sure the brat would pull through again.

The Grand Line, no, the world had no idea what new sort of storm was about to blow through.

Crocodile reflexively tried to tense at the thought. Only three or so muscles managed to respond.

He heard something move close.

“We… recovered… -nmaking ship… -roque Works… powder…” a voice was saying.

Marines… the marine swordswoman. He was being arrested.

So that was it, huh? He’d been defeated.

For all his selfishness and greed, all his patience and planning, he was apparently still not determined enough for a baby tyrant like Straw Hat Luffy and his anger.

The brat still wasn’t a proper pirate though, even if thoroughly trashing and defeating him was pirate-like, leaving an enemy like Crocodile alive was more of a Dragon-ideologue move.