On the palace grounds.
Crocodile lay sprawled on the scorching sand, his chest burning as if torn open. Each labored breath carried the metallic tang of blood as his blurred vision focused on the dissipating sandstorm.
As the dust settled, Ryan emerged, his body encased in shimmering Scales that glowed with a dark purple hue beneath the Armor Plates, resembling an impenetrable shell.
"Cough..." Crocodile spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, his gaze freezing on the Haki-infused Scales. His pupils contracted sharply, voice hoarse: "To reach this level... To think someone like you was hiding in the first half of the Grand Line..."
These waters were supposed to be a playground for rookies, his carefully laid chessboard. Yet he'd never expected to encounter such a beast in human skin.
The power beneath those Scales, the masterful control of Haki, and that slash that had split his Sandstorm... This was no mere subordinate to the Seven Warlords—this was someone capable of stirring waves in the New World.
Ryan stopped before Crocodile, looking down at the once-arrogant Sand Crocodile. Now his white coat was stained with blood, the scar on his face twisted in pain, all former pride gone.
"Too late for realizations now," Ryan said flatly, his eyes devoid of emotion.
With Dragon Scale reinforced by Haki, Crocodile's techniques—which couldn't even defeat the newly debuted Straw Hat Kid—stood no chance of breaching his defenses. Pure delusion.
Crocodile raised his head with difficulty, eyes still holding traces of disbelief. His lips parted as if to speak, but only a wet, gurgling sound emerged.
Ryan offered no quarter. His grip tightened on Wind Splitter as pitch-black Haki coated the blade once more. Without hesitation, he drove it straight through Crocodile's heart.
The sickening sound of steel piercing flesh echoed sharply across the silent palace grounds. Crocodile's body stiffened violently, pupils dilating before the light in them rapidly faded. His head lolled forward lifelessly as his final breath escaped.
Ryan slowly withdrew his blade. Blood dripped from the steel, blooming crimson flowers across the sand as his Scales receded like a retreating tide.
Whether Crocodile was the charismatic antihero others claimed mattered not. On these seas, when enemies clashed, only one walked away alive. Mercy to foes was cruelty to oneself—that was the law of survival.
The onlookers at the platform's edge wore varied expressions, the air thick with tension. King Cobra, pinned to a stone wall by sand blades, watched Ryan's calm sheathing of his sword with a voice barely audible: "What... what kind of being... could execute Crocodile like this...?"
The Sand Crocodile who had ruled Alabasta for a decade, whom even the Marines couldn't touch, now lay dead in such wretched state—it chilled the blood.
Nico Robin hid in the shadows of a pillar, a cold sweat breaking across her brow. Having worked with Crocodile for three years, she knew his cunning and strength intimately. Yet the invincible Sand Crocodile now lay like a gutted fish.
Her gaze lingered briefly on Ryan before she quickly looked away, instinctively retreating deeper into darkness.
As Ryan sheathed Wind Splitter, his attention turned to Cobra. The old king's arms were impaled by thick iron spikes driven deep into the stone, blood tracing crimson paths down the wall to form small pools below.
Approaching, Ryan grasped a spike's end and wrenched it free with effortless strength, sending droplets of blood splattering to the ground.
"Father!" Vivi rushed forward, supporting Cobra's swaying form, her eyes reddening instantly. "How bad is it? Does it hurt? I'll find a doctor—"
"Not now," Cobra gasped, pressing his daughter's hand weakly. Pale from blood loss, his lips cracked, yet his tone was urgent. "Crocodile planted artillerymen—they'll attack the square where thousands remain! We must stop them!"
Vivi's heart plummeted, panic resurfacing as she wiped her tears, fingers whitening from tension. "But... we don't know where they're hidden!"
Crocodile's schemes were always meticulous. The locations of such key pieces wouldn't be easily discovered.
Her mind raced through possibilities—palace towers? Harbor warehouses? Then she remembered the woman who always lurked in shadows, whirling toward the pillars—but the space where Nico Robin had stood was empty.
"Miss All Sunday is gone..." Vivi's voice trembled with dismay as she turned back to Cobra, eyes frantic. "Father, we must alert the guards to search everywhere."
Ryan observed Vivi's tense profile, speaking calmly: "The artillerymen are in the clock tower's top floor."
Vivi froze, then hope ignited in her eyes. The man who had cleanly dispatched Crocodile wouldn't lie about this.
"The clock tower..." She repeated, quickly realizing its strategic advantage—clear view of the square while remaining concealed. "We go now!" Steadying Cobra, her resolve hardened. "We must reach them first!"
"You handle that." Ryan glanced toward a palace corner, lips quirking. "I have unfinished business."
With Crocodile dead, no interference remained. They had ample time to defuse the bomb without his involvement.
His gaze shifted to Mikita. "You'll assist them."
Still pale from shock, Mikita stood frozen until the command jolted her into action. "Y-yes!"
Vivi nodded, supporting Cobra as they hurried toward the clock tower. Mikita followed hastily, though she couldn't resist glancing back at Ryan's retreating figure, wondering why he trusted her not to fail.
Watching them leave, Ryan eyed the bloodstained wall before turning westward.
There remained one interesting little "Rat" to deal with.
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