Just as Ryoma was complaining internally, an anomaly suddenly occurred.
In the central plaza of the port, a fierce whirlwind suddenly erupted without warning, and countless grains of yellow sand appeared out of thin air, obscuring everyone's vision.
"A sand... sandstorm?"
"What's going on! Why is there so much sand here!"
The bounty hunters, already shaken, screamed again. This sudden, bizarre sight completely broke them.
Ryoma squinted slightly, looking at the wildly dancing yellow sand.
Amidst the swirling dust, a tall, burly black figure slowly solidified within the sandstorm and stepped out, one step at a time.
It was a man wearing a black fur coat, with a slicked-back hairstyle. A hideous scar ran across his entire face, he wore a gold earring on his right ear, and he was chewing on a thick cigar.
The most striking feature was the metallic glinting hook where his left hand should have been.
His posture and aura made him look exactly like an Italian Mafia Godfather who had walked out of an old movie, radiating oppression.
Ryoma glanced at Miss Valentine, who was still suspended in mid-air and completely stunned.
"It looks like your boss came in person."
Ryoma's casual remark caused Miss Valentine to tremble violently.
Boss?
Her boss?
Miss Valentine trembled as she stiffly turned her neck, staring intently at the man who walked out of the yellow sand, completely dumbfounded.
Crocodile!
Why was he here? And... boss? Did this monster just say Crocodile was her boss?
An absurd yet terrifyingly real possibility exploded in her mind: the true identity of Mr. 0, the unseen president of their Baroque Works, was one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea?
Ryoma stopped paying attention to the minor character and focused on the big guy who had just appeared.
"You don't seem like the type to care about the life or death of your subordinates, do you?"
Ryoma's tone contained a hint of playful probing. "So... how is it such a coincidence that you showed up here?"
Crocodile took a deep drag of his cigar. The smoke rings he exhaled hovered in the air, undisturbed by the wind.
His sinister eyes locked onto Ryoma, and his deep, hoarse voice had a grating quality. "Of course, it's no coincidence."
He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth. "I received intel, and I specifically came here early to wait for you, 'frost fairy'... Ryoma."
So that's it.
As a Warlord entrenched in this sea region, coupled with the vast underground intelligence network of Baroque Works, it was perfectly reasonable that Crocodile could discover his movements in advance and wait for him here.
This guy wasn't a brute who relied only on raw strength, though he didn't really have the capital to be reckless anyway.
Just as the two powerhouses confronted each other and their auras collided, causing the air to twist, a tiny figure seized the fleeting opportunity.
Miss Valentine took advantage of everyone's attention being diverted from her, abruptly lowered her body weight to the minimum, and transformed her body into a light feather, silently floating away on the breeze, heading away from the center of this terrifying vortex.
She had only one thought now: escape! The farther away, the better!
Crocodile glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but had no interest in stopping her. She was just an insignificant pawn.
His full attention was locked onto the man before him who had raised a hint of caution in him.
"Resisting a Celestial Dragon, attacking a town, murdering a Marine Headquarters Vice Admiral..."
Crocodile's voice sounded slowly.
He was listing Ryoma's crimes with a righteous tone, as if reading a verdict.
"Truly heinous, a crime punishable by death!"
He exhaled a thick smoke ring, his black fur coat flapping loudly in the wind and sand.
"Today, with me, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, personally intervening, you pirate scoundrel shouldn't dream of escaping!"
Hearing these words, Ryoma almost burst out laughing.
This guy was clearly an absolute schemer, yet he was now putting on a facade of upholding justice.
What a huge joke!
He was secretly plotting to overthrow a nation to acquire information about the ancient weapon, Pluton.
But...
Crocodile, huh.
A Logia-type Sand-Sand Fruit user.
A surge of excitement rose in Ryoma's heart.
Perfect timing!
He could use this to test the extent to which the Armament Haki he had just learned could be utilized in actual combat.
The curve of his lips became more pronounced, carrying a hint of playfulness and provocation.
"It seems the World Government and the Marines really did block crucial information to save face."
Ryoma spoke unhurriedly, "The intel you received... seems incomplete."
Crocodile's brow furrowed involuntarily. He disliked the feeling of things being out of his control, and he especially hated the opponent's calm, indifferent demeanor.
He asked, "What exactly are you trying to say?"
Ryoma shook a finger lightly, the smile on his face deepening. "Nothing much, just want to correct you. When listing my crimes, you should replace the 'attacking a town' item with... slaughtering a Celestial Dragon scum."
"That way... it'll be accurate."
The moment the words fell, the air across all of Whiskey Peak seemed to freeze.
The ash at the end of the cigar in Crocodile's mouth silently dropped, and all subtle expressions instantly vanished from his otherwise calm face.
He stared intently at Ryoma, his sinister eyes in their deep sockets suddenly contracting to the extreme.
Slaughtered... a Celestial Dragon?
This maniac!
He finally understood why the Marines' reaction had been so strange.
If it were just the killing of a Vice Admiral, it would certainly be a major incident, but it wouldn't necessitate this level of information lockdown.
But once the death of a Celestial Dragon was involved, that was a different matter entirely. That meant an Admiral would definitely be deployed. Yet this man was standing here now, completely unharmed.
An unprecedented sense of gravity weighed on his heart. Crocodile slowly took the cigar from his mouth, his hook reflecting a cold light in the sun.
"Kuhahaha..."
He suddenly started laughing deeply, his laughter filled with brutality and madness.
"Interesting, what an interesting brat!"
He sharply pointed the hook on his left hand at Ryoma. The surrounding yellow sand immediately erupted, transforming into countless snakes that coiled and hissed around him.
"However, this is where you stop!"
He declared word by word.
"No one can defeat me... in the desert!"