Chapter 363 Crocodile and Nico Robin
Crocodile was feeding his crocodiles.
He wasn't young anymore. At forty years old, he'd lost the vitality that belonged to youth.
Instead, he possessed the restraint and depth of a mature man.
He tossed large chunks of bloody meat into the pool before him. Several massive crocodiles inside surged forward, tearing at the crimson flesh.
Crocodile loved crocodiles—not only because his name meant crocodile.
He loved this creature's nature.
Lurking beneath the water's surface, disguised as a harmless log, then striking suddenly when prey lowered its guard—directly snapping the prey's neck.
Only rookies would charge forward shouting and hollering.
Crocodile often said this.
He certainly wasn't a rookie. Everything had been carefully planned. He just needed to proceed step by step.
Finished feeding the crocodiles, Crocodile's lips curved upward. His mood was good.
The crucial person had finally arrived recently. Then, after waiting a bit longer, Operation Utopia could officially launch.
Seize this nation, then obtain Pluton.
Once the ancient weapon was in hand, who could possibly stop him from becoming Pirate King?
Hmph. When that time came, even the New World's Emperors—what would they amount to?
Whitebeard, Kaido, Red-Hair, Katakuri—under the ancient weapon's nation-destroying power, they'd be reduced to ashes in an instant!
"You seem to be in a good mood."
A voice suddenly came from behind.
Crocodile felt a moment's surprise, then whipped his head around.
His neck twisted nearly one hundred eighty degrees. If he'd been an ordinary person, his neck would've snapped. But Crocodile was a Logia Sand-Sand Fruit user. This degree of head-turning meant nothing to him.
What's going on?
How could a completely unfamiliar voice he'd never heard suddenly appear in his headquarters?
Crocodile stared in shock at the figure pushing through the door at the top of the stairs behind him, descending.
Very tall—nearly twice his height.
Entirely shrouded in pitch-black robes. Impossible to see his true appearance.
The only information: the voice sounded young. A young man.
"Who the hell are you?"
Crocodile's brow gradually sank. His lips turned downward simultaneously, sketching a dangerous arc. Sand already began falling from his body.
To arrive here without a sound, preventing even the guards along the way from sounding any alarm—this guy was definitely no pushover!
The visitor was naturally Brett.
Following Crocodile's voice he'd heard, he'd traveled the winding path forward.
Using Conqueror's Haki to knock out all guards along the way, he'd finally arrived before Crocodile.
"I'll skip the nonsense, Crocodile."
Brett appeared extremely direct. "Nico Robin—that woman's with you now, correct?"
What?
Crocodile's pupils contracted.
How could this guy possibly know?
The fact that Nico Robin accepted his invitation to join Baroque Works—only he should know.
Even the organization's other officers remained completely ignorant of Miss All Sunday's identity due to secrecy.
How did this guy learn about this?
"I see."
Crocodile felt he understood everything. He sneered coldly. "The Government's hound? I've heard you've been hunting Nico Robin! Never thought you'd track me down so quickly."
Since someone had already found him, Crocodile was too lazy to hide anything.
Of course, internally he still cursed bitterly about the Government's frighteningly strong intelligence capabilities.
This guy seemed to have misunderstood something.
Brett's expression beneath the black robe became somewhat peculiar.
But going along with this misunderstanding—wouldn't that work fine?
Brett's lips curved. He immediately said calmly, "Since you've guessed my identity, you should understand, Crocodile—you're exposed."
The crocodile's expression gradually darkened.
"Recruiting Nico Robin, stationed in this nation for years—all for the ancient weapon rumors, I presume."
Brett said. "The Government can no longer tolerate your actions."
"Prepared to enter Impel Down?"
"Desert Spada!"
A curved, crescent-shaped sand blade extended from Crocodile's right arm. In an instant his body launched forward, the sand blade slashing toward Brett.
What point was there in hesitating now?
The Government had discovered his conspiracy.
Then both sides had absolutely no room for reconciliation.
Only a fight to the death remained.
This was truly terrible!!
His earlier good mood had completely reversed at this moment. Crocodile felt immensely furious. The plan had just been ready to begin, yet it had already ended.
He'd vent his heart's fury on this bastard before him!
Brett's lips curved upward.
"Soru!"
He called out lowly.
In an instant he'd already flickered directly before Crocodile.
What?!
So fast!!
Crocodile's eyes widened.
Was Soru this fast?
"Iron Body—Siege Cannon!"
Brett called out again, then slammed a fist into Crocodile's chest.
Soru was indeed Soru, but Iron Body wasn't Iron Body—just a casual punch.
"Gwahhh!!"
Crocodile's chest was nearly caved in by Brett's punch.
He immediately vomited blood. His body flew backward like a cannonball, smashing into the wall opposite the crocodile pool. The wall burst with a massive hole. His entire body sank inside.
Hmm.
Though just an ordinary punch, with Brett's current physical strength wrapped in Haki, even this casual strike exceeded what Crocodile—who'd lived comfortably for over a decade—could easily withstand.
Brett slowly walked forward. "Truly disappointing, Crocodile."
"Your battle with the Devil's Heir Douglas Bullet years ago—the Government still remembers it vividly. That's why they specially dispatched me."
"But—" Brett's lips curved. "Looks like you've completely fallen now."
"Seems your obsession with the ancient weapon not only paralyzed your brain—it paralyzed your body too."
"Even without this treasonous behavior, you should've been thrown into Impel Down. How do you still deserve the Warlord position now?"
"Ground Death!!"
A furious roar came from the massive hole. Brett could hear absolute rage.
Then the ground began collapsing. Walls began crumbling. The ceiling disintegrated.
Everything was rapidly transforming into sand.
"What's happening?"
At that moment, a somewhat panicked female voice rang out. A slender figure hurried through a door. "What's going on? What are you doing, Mr. 0?!"
Seeing the newcomer, Brett's lips curved slightly.
Excellent.
Here she comes.