"What the hell is this? Is that all you've got?"
"Keep attacking. Don't stop until you bring me down. Killing or being killed—it's all just a game to pass the time."
Kenpachi Zaraki stood there like a raging beast, his white captain's haori fluttering in the wind. A crushing Reiatsu poured from his body, so dense it almost seemed tangible, and in the span of a heartbeat it swallowed the entire tavern.
In that instant—
time itself seemed to freeze.
The noisy tavern fell deathly silent.
Under that abyss-like pressure, the people inside felt their souls on the verge of collapse. Their faces went pale, and the overwhelming force pressing down from above robbed their bodies of sensation.
Crash!
Crash!
Crash!
The tavern fell into chaos.
Broken cups littered the floor. One person after another collapsed.
The only ones left untouched were the three members of the Shinigami Pirates.
"…Is this guy a monster?"
Crocodile's face changed violently as he felt the pressure heavy enough to crush the sky itself. He had once challenged Whitebeard, and the sheer difference in power between them had left a scar he could never forget.
And now—
the pressure pouring off Kenpachi Zaraki was giving him that same suffocating feeling.
"Was that Conqueror's Haki just now?"
Fine beads of sweat formed on Crocodile's forehead as he glanced at the motionless bodies around him. A trace of fear surfaced in his eyes.
But no—
that wasn't Conqueror's Haki.
It was something a hundred times more oppressive.
"Who the hell is this guy? Why have I never heard of him before?"
Crocodile's face had gone pale. Even someone as strong as him could only shiver beneath that crushing spiritual pressure.
"Crocodile… are you scared?"
Kenpachi rested his chipped Zanpakutō on his shoulder and grinned savagely.
"Now that I think about it, I forgot something. Before a fight, you should tell the other guy your name. Otherwise, he might die without ever knowing."
He bared his teeth.
"I'm Kenpachi Zaraki, Captain of Squad Eleven…"
"…the man who's about to kill you."
"Kenpachi Zaraki…"
Crocodile's expression shifted. His gaze moved past Kenpachi and landed on the table in the corner.
"So you're one of their people. No wonder you're this strong!"
He had recognized Ren Kuro, Gin Ichimaru, and Byakuya Kuchiki.
"A 350 million man called Death… Poison Blade and Cherry Blossom with bounties over 500 million… and now you too." Crocodile forced out a strained smile. "To think I'd run into a whole crew of monsters here…"
Shock wasn't enough to describe what he was feeling anymore.
What kind of pirate crew was this?
Crocodile was certain of one thing:
The three men before him all possessed strength on the level of an Admiral.
A crew like this, even in the chaos of the New World, would be strong enough to rule a region.
"Oh my, looks like he's recognized us." Gin smiled as always. "Ren Kuro, should we kill him?"
Anyone who truly knew Gin would have recognized that smile.
He was already plotting something.
"There's no need." Ren Kuro shook his head. "We only need the two Devil Fruits."
Crocodile was, after all, a man who would one day become a Warlord. If he could be bent to their side instead of killed, he might become useful later.
"Then I'll leave it alone," Gin said with a shrug. "Honestly, I've got a decent impression of him."
The lie was so obvious it barely needed pointing out.
As he spoke, the hand hidden in his sleeve quietly relaxed around his Zanpakutō.
Ren Kuro took one step toward Crocodile.
"Crocodile. Fancy meeting you here. If I had to guess, you just returned from the New World, didn't you?"
"Death…" Crocodile frowned. He was smart enough to know Ren Kuro hadn't approached him just to chat. "What exactly do you want?"
"It's simple."
Ren Kuro pointed at the black box beside him.
"The Devil Fruits."
"So that's what you're after."
Crocodile ground his teeth. He had obtained those two Devil Fruits by chance in the New World. He'd intended to use them to cultivate new subordinates—
and now Ren Kuro had set his sights on them.
"You're not handing them over?" Ren Kuro shook his head. "That's a very disappointing choice."
His tone hardened on the final words.
"Kenpachi, he's yours. Just leave him alive."
With that, Ren Kuro walked over to the bar, picked up a glass of wine, and calmly prepared to enjoy the show.
"Crocodile…" Kenpachi grinned. "You're really not going to take advantage of the special bonus?"
"What kind of joke is that?" Crocodile's face darkened. "If this is a fair fight, then attacking someone who isn't defending himself is beneath me."
"Oh, come on. You should be happy about this."
Kenpachi tore open his shihakushō again, speaking as casually as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
"Damn you… Don't mock me!"
Crocodile finally snapped. Proud to the bone, he could endure many things, but humiliation was not one of them.
"Desert Grande Espada!"
Slamming both hands against the floor, he sent a massive blade of sand racing across the ground toward Kenpachi's body.
This was one of Crocodile's strongest techniques.
And yet—
the same scene repeated itself.
The sand blade, which could split through stone walls, left only a somewhat deeper cut across Kenpachi's body.
It still failed to break through his flesh.
"Damn it! What the hell is going on?!"
Crocodile roared in despair.
That was a human body.
So why was it harder than steel?
In truth, the clash between slashes was also a clash of spiritual pressure. The Reiatsu covering Kenpachi's body functioned like an invisible suit of armor, which was why Crocodile's sand blade had failed to do any real damage.
"Looks like that was your last move." Kenpachi raised his blade, eyes gleaming with savage excitement. "Then it's finally my turn."
His figure vanished from Crocodile's sight in an instant.
"Shit!"
Crocodile's pupils shrank violently.
Before he could react, the chipped blade in Kenpachi's hands had already expanded across his vision.
A golden sword pressure descended together with the slash.
In a single strike, it split through Crocodile's body.
Even though the attack wasn't coated in Armament Haki, the sword pressure made tangible by Kenpachi's overwhelming Reiatsu still dealt catastrophic damage.
Blood scattered through the air.
Crocodile's body bent forward as he dropped to one knee, barely conscious. Under the glare of the sun, his shadow stretched long across the floor.
And within that shadow—
there was nothing but despair and unwillingness.
One strike. Instant defeat.
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