Robin stood a few paces away, her calm gaze fixed on the man who had once commanded so much fear. Her usual gentle smile lingered on her lips, but there was no warmth behind it.
"I guess this is where we part ways," she said quietly.
Crocodile glared at her, gritting his teeth. "Robin… you think you can just walk away from me?"
His voice was low and dangerous.
"You won't last out there. Without me, you have no protection—no place to belong."
Robin's smile faded.
Her eyes turned cold—piercing. "Let's be clear about something, Crocodile," she said, her tone calm but cutting. "You never gave me a place to belong. You used me."
Crocodile froze.
"You only kept me close because I was useful," she continued. "If the day came when I wasn't… you would've discarded me without a second thought."
He clenched his fists, jaw tightening, but had no words to counter her. Because she was right.
"I know men like you," Robin added. "I've followed enough of them. But not anymore."
Her voice remained composed, but something final echoed in every word. "So, before you throw me away, let me be the one to leave."
She turned slightly, ready to walk.
Crocodile's face darkened. "You think I'll just let you go?"
With a growl, he lunged forward, furious.
But—
Grab!
He stumbled. His leg had been caught—gripped tightly by a hand that had sprouted from the ground beneath him.
Robin didn't even flinch.
"Sorry," she said coldly. "But you're not in any shape to chase me."
More arms burst from the earth, wrapping tightly around Crocodile's arms, legs, and torso. With the *Kairoseki* cuffs still draining his power, he couldn't disperse into sand. He was completely trapped.
Robin slowly crossed her own arms in front of her.
"This is your parting gift."
Her real arms tensed.
"Clutch!"
With a brutal pull, the arms on Crocodile's body jerked in unison—twisting his torso back with a sickening *crack*.
Crocodile's mouth opened in silent agony, his body spasming as the shock of his shattered spine surged through him.
Then—darkness.
He collapsed, unconscious, limp on the sand.
Robin stood over him for a moment, watching his still form.
"Farewell, Crocodile," she whispered.
No hatred. No pity. Just finality.
With that, she turned and walked away, her long coat fluttering behind her in the desert wind. She didn't look back.
Within moments, the shifting sands swallowed her silhouette.
...
Back at Zino's location…
The air felt heavy with tension. Blood soaked the sand beneath Zino as he remained on one knee, his breathing shallow. Though a sword had pierced him moments ago and poison coursed through his veins, his expression remained composed—eyes steady, unreadable.
"You…" he muttered, glancing between the three cloaked figures. "You said… you were my brother's teammates. Then why… why attack me?"
The tall one crossed his arms, voice bitter. "Because your brother betrayed us."
"Betrayed everything we stood for," the shorter one added, his tone dripping with resentment.
The leader—the one wrapped in shadows—stepped forward slightly, his voice calm but cruel. "He turned on us… on the mission… on justice."
Zino's breath hitched slightly, but he forced his voice steady. "If you hate him so much… why not go after him?"
The tall one cracked his knuckles, shaking his head. "He's already dead."
Zino's heart sank.
"What…?" He blinked. "That's not possible. That can't be…"
He remembered what his mother had said—the reason she left. It was because she believed Yohan was still alive. Could she have been wrong? Or were they?
The leader narrowed his eyes, watching Zino's face. "He died running from the consequences of what he did. And since he's gone…"
"…We'll take it out on you," the short one grinned, finishing the sentence.
Zino clenched his fist, blood still dripping from the sword wound on his chest. He was trying everything he could to purge the poison, focusing his healing energy—but it was only keeping the venom from spreading. His wounds weren't closing, and his strength was fading with each drop of blood lost.
"Let's not waste time," the leader said coldly. "Griv. End him."
The short one—Griv—stepped forward, unsheathing his blade again.
"Sorry, kid. Should've picked a different bloodline."
Swish!
The blade moved like a flash of silver light.
A clean arc swept through the air—then silence.
Zino didn't even flinch.
His eyes widened—just slightly—as the world tilted. Then, his body collapsed sideways.
His head hit the sand moments later—separated cleanly from his neck.
A pool of red spread around him.
"…Tch. That was too easy," Griv muttered, wiping blood from his cheek with his sleeve. He raised the sword instinctively to lick it—but paused, scowling.
"…Ah. Damn. Poisoned blade. Almost forgot."
He sheathed the weapon with a sharp clack.
The leader looked down at the fallen body, face unreadable. No joy. No anger. Just cold indifference. "It's done."
"Let's go," he ordered.
Without another glance, the three cloaked figures turned and walked away.
...
Somewhere en route to Alubarna…
Robin sat calmly atop the giant turtle, its heavy steps steady across the sand. The desert winds brushed past her face, but her thoughts were elsewhere—focused and sharp.
She pulled out a Den Den Mushi from her cloak and dialed in.
"This is Miss All Sunday," she spoke into the receiver.
The snail-phone blinked to life as various voices answered in rapid succession.
"Miss All Sunday? What's the update?" came Mr. 1's calm, clipped voice.
"Proceed to the capital. Immediately," Robin said. "We're accelerating the plan."
Mr. 1's voice stiffened. "Is that the boss's command?"
Robin's gaze narrowed at the horizon ahead. "Yes. He's currently engaged in battle… with the captain of the Orca Pirates."
A stunned silence followed her words.
Mr. 2 gasped theatrically, his voice coming through next. "The Orca Captain? How strong is he?"
Robin didn't miss a beat. Her voice was smooth, precise. "He struck Crocodile's logia body… with his bare fist. And Crocodile bled."
"What?!" Mr. 4's deep voice thundered through the snail. Even the usually composed Mr. 3 audibly choked on something.
Whispers erupted among the numbered agents, murmurs of disbelief and concern echoing across the Den Den line.
Mr. 1's voice cut through the chatter, sharp again. "Is this threat real? Should we backtrack?"
"No." Robin's tone brooked no argument. "He ordered the operation to proceed. We finish it quickly—before interference spreads."
"...Understood."
"Roger!"
"Moving now!"
Each agent confirmed in turn, snapping back into focus. Their voices held tension—but also resolve. They then broke off the call, dispersing toward Alubarna to execute the next phase of the plan.
Robin gently closed the Den Den Mushi and slipped it back into her bag. The soft clack of its shell closing was the only sound for a moment.
She looked over her shoulder, toward the distant silhouette of Rainbase. The wind kicked up some sand, curling it around her like a brief veil.
"Zino…" she murmured under her breath, a flicker of thought passing through her mind. "Looks like things just got worse for you."
A slight smirk played at the corner of her lips, though her eyes remained unreadable.
"I had considered switching sides," she admitted softly, speaking only to herself. "But… maybe I was too slow."
With a small sigh, Robin turned her gaze forward again.
The turtle continued its pace.
...
Yuba.
The scorching desert sun cast long shadows over the crumbling ruins of Yuba. Alvida arrived, scanning the broken buildings and cracked earth with a frown. Sweat clung to her brow as she looked around for any signs of the two dryads—Chloris and Moris.
"Where are they...?" she muttered, her eyes narrowing.
Then she saw him.
Leaning weakly against a broken stone wall was an old man, barely upright. His clothes were torn, and blood stained his sleeves. His breathing was shallow, chest rising and falling unevenly.
"Toh Toh!"
Alvida rushed toward him, her heels kicking up sand. She crouched at his side, gently grabbing his shoulder. "What happened to you? Are you alright?"
The old man blinked as if waking from a daze. "Ah… you. You must be one of Zino's crew."
Alvida's eyes narrowed. "I'm looking for two of my crew, Chloris and Moris. Have you seen them?"
Toh Toh gave a weak nod. "Yes… They were here earlier. Kind children. They helped me… healed me."
Alvida sighed in relief. "Then where are they now?"
The old man gestured faintly toward the north. "They went that way. Toward Rainbase."
Alvida's expression shifted to a deep frown. "Rainbase? Don't tell me… they're trying to follow Zino?"
"your Captain, Zino was in danger," Toh Toh said grimly. "So, they wanted to help."
"What?" Alvida's voice sharpened. "Danger? What do you mean by that?"
Toh Toh took a moment, wincing as he adjusted his sitting position. His hand went to his ribs—clearly bruised. "A group of black-cloaked men came here. Said they were friends of Zino… polite at first. Asked where he went."
Alvida's gaze darkened. "Then?"
"I told them the truth… that Zino had gone to Rainbase." Toh Toh's voice grew heavy. "And that was when they attacked me. One of them laughed and said their real purpose was to kill your captain."
Alvida's breath caught in her throat. Her body tensed, the wind catching her cloak as she rose to her feet.
"Why would they target him?" she muttered, almost to herself. Then her eyes sharpened like steel. "No time."
Without another word, she turned and sprinted in the direction of Rainbase. Her figure kicked up sand in her wake, moving faster and faster until she disappeared from Toh Toh's view.
The old man leaned back against the wall with a sigh.
"Please…" he whispered. "Don't be too late."
...
Somewhere in Rainbase.
Smoker sat on a large, sun-warmed boulder at the edge of the city ruins, his arms resting on his knees, a half-burnt cigar drooping between his fingers.
His thoughts were heavy. The weight of defeat—twice, no less—pressed hard against his pride. Once back in Loguetown, and now again, here in Rainbase. Both times, at the hands of the same young pirate.
Zino...
He gritted his teeth, staring blankly up at the sky. Am I really that weak?
The echoes of battle still rang in the distance. Explosions, crashing rubble, chaos. But none of it stirred him. Not yet. He couldn't bring himself to move.
By his side, Tashigi lay unconscious, bruised but breathing steadily. He'd protected her, at least. That was one small thing he didn't fail at.
The last of his cigar burned to ash, and he barely noticed until the sting of heat at his fingers snapped him back to reality. He dropped the stub, watching it sizzle out on the hot stone.
A long sigh escaped his lips. The haze in his mind began to clear.
"Enough self-pity."
He stood, exhaling slowly as he lifted Tashigi onto his back with practiced ease.
"We're going back," he muttered to himself. "Back to headquarters. I need answers… and training."
Each step he took away from the battlefield felt lighter, like he was leaving a piece of his failure behind. Yet something gnawed at his chest—a need to be stronger, to rise above this humiliation.
As he reached the town's outer perimeter, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder.
Rainbase—once a desert paradise, now a symbol of frustration and defeat. But also… a turning point.
He turned again, ready to move on.
But then, something caught his eye.
A figure lay sprawled on the sand not far ahead, unmoving. Smoker squinted, adjusting his grip on Tashigi as he stepped forward.
The desert wind blew lightly, sweeping aside a tattered cloak partially covering the figure's body.
He blinked his eyes.
"…Crocodile?"
There was no mistaking it. The hooked hand. The wild, sand-blown blond hair. The once-proud Shichibukai now lay unconscious, face-down in the sand like a discarded puppet.
Smoker's jaw tightened. The pieces in his head began to turn.
"What the hell happened here?" he muttered.
The great Crocodile… beaten and thrown aside like garbage.
Smoker clenched his fist.
He looked down at Tashigi on his back, then forward to the fallen warlord. Then, something flickered in his eyes.
Determination.
This wasn't over yet.