Stuart Island — Harbor
"Oh my, looks like we've arrived at quite a lively island." Gin Ichimaru stood at the end of the deck, gazing toward the busy figures moving through the town.
"Then let's restock here." Ren Kuro's tone was calm. "Over the past half month, we've crushed quite a few pirate crews and taken three Devil Fruits from them—but that's still nowhere near enough."
He wasn't satisfied with the pace of their collection.
Unless they pulled off something big again, gathering ten Devil Fruits in one go would never be easy.
"Good. I'm dying of boredom staying on the ship." Kenpachi Zaraki rested his Zanpakutō on his shoulder, already eager to move. "Maybe I'll finally find someone worth cutting."
"…So your first thought is killing people again?" Ren Kuro felt his temples throb.
Along the way, the number of pirates Kenpachi had cut down was already beyond counting. The worst part was that every time he finished, he'd wear the same disgusted expression, as if disappointed that the opponent had been too weak. Even if they survived, they'd probably die from humiliation alone.
"Kenpachi Zaraki." Byakuya Kuchiki gave a cold snort. "We're here to replenish supplies, not to slaughter people. Put away that barbaric impulse."
"Byakuya Kuchiki, if you've got a problem with it, come prove which one of us cuts better," Kenpachi shot back at once.
"Enough." Ren Kuro stepped in again, using what felt like his fully awakened Face-Face Fruit. "How about all of you come have a drink at the tavern and cool off instead?"
On his account, the two finally let it go with matching cold snorts and disembarked.
At the Tavern
"One drink each. I hear the liquor on Stuart Island is pretty good."
Ren Kuro smiled as he led them inside, the other three following close behind.
The tavern was packed and noisy. As a commercially prosperous island, it wasn't hard to spot black market dealers, traffickers, and pirates mixed among the crowd.
They found a table in one corner, and Ren Kuro ordered four drinks.
But the moment he picked up his cup—
his eyes paused on another corner of the room, where a lone man sat drinking in silence.
"…That guy looks familiar."
Then his gaze sharpened.
"Crocodile? What is he doing here?"
The golden hook was unmistakable.
Ren Kuro recognized him instantly.
"And that box beside him…"
A faint smile touched his lips.
Using the system's detection function, he could sense what was inside.
Two Devil Fruits.
"Ren Kuro… looks like you've found an interesting target." Gin followed his gaze and immediately guessed that another unlucky soul was about to have a terrible day.
"That man is Crocodile," Ren Kuro said lightly. "User of the Sand-Sand Fruit."
Then he looked toward Kenpachi.
"Kenpachi Zaraki, didn't you want someone to cut? He's a Logia user. Go entertain yourself—and take those two Devil Fruits while you're at it."
"Hah! A Logia user?" Kenpachi's face lit up with savage excitement. "Now that sounds fun."
He stood at once and strode over without hesitation.
Crocodile's Corner
Crocodile had just raised his glass when his hand stopped midair.
A powerful presence was approaching.
"Who are you?" He turned, frowning as he eyed Kenpachi warily.
"You're Crocodile, right?" Kenpachi grinned wildly. "I'm here to fight you. Come at me with everything you've got. If you can cut me down, even better."
"…What is wrong with you?" Crocodile's face went dark.
A complete stranger had just walked up and invited him to slash him to pieces.
He'd never met anyone this deranged.
"What, didn't you hear me?" Kenpachi said impatiently. "I'm telling you to hurry up and attack."
"Who are you?" Crocodile's brows drew together. "And why exactly should I fight you?"
"There's no reason." Kenpachi's grin widened. "You just look like you'd be harder to cut than the last bunch. Isn't that enough?"
"I'm not interested."
Crocodile turned away coldly, fully dismissing him.
Slash—
A sword stroke came down out of nowhere, splitting both Crocodile's body and the table behind him in half.
Kenpachi rested his blade back on his shoulder.
"Well? Interested now?"
"You really are asking for death."
Crocodile's body reformed as he turned back, fury flashing in his eyes.
"Good," Kenpachi said, satisfied. "That's more like it."
Then, right there in front of everyone, he did something completely absurd.
He drove his Zanpakutō into the floor and tore open the front of his robe, exposing his chest.
"…What the hell is he doing?" Crocodile stared, completely baffled.
At the far table, Gin narrowed his eyes and smiled.
"Oh dear. Captain Kenpachi's little habit is back. That man is definitely doomed."
Kenpachi had always had a strange custom:
Whenever he found an opponent interesting, he would deliberately bare his chest and offer them the first few strikes.
That bizarre, almost perverse habit had become one of his trademarks.
Kenpachi himself called it—
a special bonus.
"Come on, Crocodile." Kenpachi spread his arms, excitement blazing in his eyes. "Take a few swings first. My chest, my arms, my legs—even my eyes, if you want."
"…What?"
Crocodile genuinely froze.
This was the first time he had ever met someone who refused to follow any kind of logic.
Go ahead and cut me first?
Was this lunatic mocking him?
"You bastard… don't look down on me!"
Crocodile finally snapped.
Prideful to the core, he had never been humiliated like this in front of an audience.
"Desert Spada!"
He lashed out with the hook on his arm, sending a blade of sand slicing toward Kenpachi.
Shhk—! Shhk—!
Sand exploded outward.
The tavern floor split open.
And yet—
the scene that followed left everyone speechless.
When the sand blade hit Kenpachi's chest, it left behind nothing more than a pale, shallow mark.
"That's impossible!" Crocodile's face darkened at once. "What is he, immortal?"
In that instant, he realized he had badly underestimated the man before him.
This was no ordinary madman.
This was a monster.
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