The air in the crumbling palace tasted of dust and desperation. Luffy's fist, stretched back like a loaded catapult, shot forward with a furious roar.
"Gomu Gomu no…"
Crocodile's lips curled into a sneer. He didn't even move his feet; he simply dissolved the upper half of his body into a swirl of sand, letting the punch pass harmlessly through the space where his head had been. His form solidified instantly, a cold hand clamping around Luffy's extended wrist.
"Predictable," Crocodile hissed, his palm beginning to glow with a terrible, draining light. "Your moisture ends here, boy."
Luffy's eyes went wide—he'd forgotten! With a grunt, he swung his body, a wild kick aimed at Crocodile's temple. The Warlord leaned back an inch, the rubber limb whistling past his face. The momentum sent Luffy spinning through the air, crashing into a pile of rubble.
"You fight with passion," Crocodile mocked, strolling forward as sand gathered around his golden hook. "But passion is just another thing the desert consumes."
Gasping, Luffy scrambled toward the lone, precious barrel of water. He ripped off the lid, gulping down huge mouthfuls, the liquid spilling down his chin. Then, in a move that made Crocodile pause, he upended the rest over his own head, soaking his straw hat and his hair.
"You said it yourself!" Luffy shouted, water dripping from his fists. "A Devil Fruit gets stronger when you use it different ways!"
He launched himself again. "Gomu Gomu no…"
Crocodile sighed, already raising a hand. "Again? This is tedium."
But Luffy's arm began to vibrate, a blur of motion. "…SHOTGUN!"
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump! Not one punch, but a dozen rubbery afterimages exploded from Luffy's fist in a chaotic barrage. Crocodile's eyes widened a fraction. He crossed his arms, his body erupting into a wall of sand just as the blows landed.
BOOM!
The impact wasn't solid, but it pushed him back, grinding his heels into the stone floor. A chunk of the palace ceiling, weakened by the shockwave, crashed down beside them.
"A new trick," Crocodile conceded, dust swirling off his coat. "But the stage remains mine. Desert Spada!"
He swung his hook. A blade of compressed sand, sharp enough to cut stone, screamed toward Luffy. The rubber-man barely flung himself aside as the attack sheared through a massive pillar, sending the entire western balcony collapsing into the city below with a thunderous roar.
"You always return to the same simple charge," Crocodile taunted, emerging from the dust cloud. "It's why you'll always lose."
"This time's different!" Luffy yelled, not charging from a distance, but suddenly there, having used the debris as cover. He didn't punch. He swung his entire soaked arm in a wide, open-palmed slap.
SMACK!
The sound was wet and solid. Crocodile's head snapped to the side, his cigar flying from his lips. For a second, pure, unadulterated shock blanked his features.
"I'm totally confident now!" Luffy declared.
Crocodile stumbled back, a hand to his stinging cheek. Seeing his chance, Luffy grabbed the now-empty water barrel. "Now get soaked!"
He hurled the barrel, aiming to drench the Warlord and render him solid. But Crocodile's shock had evaporated, replaced by icy rage. "Sables!"
A tornado of sand erupted from his body, a miniature desert storm that caught the barrel and sent it spiraling away. The gale force hit Luffy like a physical wall, threatening to blast him out of the gaping hole in the palace wall. He strained, fingers digging grooves into the stone floor, his other hand desperately snatching the barrel's rope handle just before it was lost to the abyss.
"Huff… huff… got it…"
Crocodile's laughter was dry and hollow. "You're finally putting on a show! But it changes nothing. That barrel is your lifeline. The moment you lose hold of it, the moment the last drop is gone, you return to being nothing but a dry, brittle toy for me to break."
Luffy, still on his knees, looked at the empty barrel. Then he looked at Crocodile. A fierce, unshakeable grin split his face. "I told you. I'm different from last time."
He brought the barrel to his lips and tilted it back, swallowing convulsively.
Crocodile's smirk faded. "What… what are you doing? You already drank it all."
From the shadows of an intact archway, Princess Vivi gasped. King Cobra stared, bewildered. "He's… he's drinking air?"
But Nico Robin, known as Miss All Sunday, let out a soft, incredulous chuckle. "Oh my."
Luffy's stomach began to distend, audibly sloshing. He wasn't drinking from the barrel—he was filling it from within. His body, saturated from the earlier water, was recycling it.
Crocodile's eye twitched. "Are you… are you joking? You think this is a game?!"
Luffy lowered the barrel, now sloshing and heavy. His body looked bloated, strange. He met Crocodile's furious gaze, his own utterly serious.
"I'm always serious when it comes to kicking your ass."
He took a deep, water-logged breath, and spat.
A jet of water, like a cannon blast, shot from his mouth, drenching Crocodile's front. The Warlord looked down at his wet shirt in disbelief—the one vulnerability he could not control.
"GOMU GOMU NO…" Luffy's bloated arms swung back, the water inside him shifting and amplifying the power. "BAZOOKA!"
The double-fisted blow landed with the force of a tidal wave. CRACK! This time, the impact was sickeningly solid. Crocodile's sand-logged body couldn't dissipate the water-enhanced hit. He was launched backward like a cannonball, smashing through three consecutive stone walls before skidding to a halt in the center of the crumbling throne room.
Luffy stood, panting. Water seeped from his pores, his joints, making him glisten under the Alabasta sun. He was no longer just a rubber man. He was a water-logged vessel of vengeance—Mizu Luffy.
King Cobra stared, jaw slack. "He… he can hit him. Consistently!"
"Indeed," Robin said, her amusement gone, replaced by a focused urgency. She stepped from the shadows. "But this appreciation society is adjourned, Your Majesty. Now. Take me to the Poneglyph."
Cobra tore his eyes from the battle. "Why? What reason could you, his right hand, have to see it now?"
Robin's eyes were dark pools of ancient longing. "My reasons are older than this kingdom. They do not concern you. What should concern you is that if Crocodile wins that fight, he will come for it next. And he will not ask nicely. The time for questions is over. Move."
As she spoke, a thunderous crash echoed from the throne room. Cobra looked back in time to see Crocodile rise from the rubble, his coat torn, a trickle of real, crimson blood at the corner of his mouth. His face was a mask of primal, sand-scoured fury.
Luffy charged forward, a watery juggernaut, for the first time forcing the Desert King onto the defensive.
But Crocodile's eyes weren't on Luffy. They were locked past him, past Cobra—directly onto Robin. And in them was not just anger, but the chilling, certain promise of betrayal.
"Nico Robin…" his voice, though not loud, cut through the chaos like a knife. "You treacherous witch. What do you think you're doing?"
Robin went very still. The king looked between them, the horrifying truth dawning.
Luffy, mid-swing, followed Crocodile's gaze. He saw Robin, saw the king's panic, saw the cold understanding on his enemy's face.
The distraction lasted a fraction of a second.
It was all Crocodile needed.
His body dissolved into a stream of sand that bypassed Luffy's swinging fist entirely, reforming directly between Robin and the king. His golden hook flashed, not at Luffy, but at Cobra's throat.
"The game has changed, Straw Hat," Crocodile snarled, his hook poised to kill a king. "Drop the water. Surrender. Or history dies here, in the sand, by your stubbornness."
Luffy skidded to a halt, the water inside him sloshing. He was strong enough to fight now. But was he fast enough to stop a hook already at the king's neck?
The throne room fell silent, save for the drip of Luffy's borrowed water and the ragged breath of a king facing death.
Crocodile's smile was a grim, final thing. "Choose."
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