"Throwing out shockwaves with his fists… this guy…"
Inside the dust-haze, Crocodile could clearly sense Karl's position thanks to his fruit, but recalling that quagmire-like feeling just now, his face turned grim.
If this weren't the desert—his home ground—where both his power and elementalization were maximized, he had no doubt that even a graze from that air cannon's Haki would have injured him no less than Whitebeard's Quake-Quake Fruit.
Only one man Crocodile had ever seen punch out shockwaves—Whitebeard.
That man shattered the air with his fruit, birthing seismic force.
Karl's kind of air cannon was unheard of.
Even so, Crocodile felt no fear—only that Karl was as troublesome as Douglas Bullet back then.
As the saying goes—
In the desert, even against the world's top powers, Crocodile dared to fight.
Whooo—whooo—
A wailing storm surged again.
Regaining control of his body, Crocodile whipped up another sand squall, heaving a vast sandstorm.
Though he knew Karl must also command Observation Haki, Crocodile still chose to seal his vision, betting that Karl's mastery wouldn't keep up with desert-borne speed.
It worked.
Even one as strong as Karl couldn't keep his eyes open inside that maelstrom.
But Crocodile clearly didn't know that Karl had awakened both colors of Haki at ten.
Were it not for his inborn, ever-evolving monster physique, he might have been one of those rare people born with Observation Haki.
Even so, Karl's island-spanning perception—able to blanket most of a mid-sized island—was more than enough to deal with Crocodile.
Shu—
Sensing Crocodile lingering in the air, Karl stamped the ground and shot upward.
Stepping on Geppo, he flew straight at him.
"Rokushiki Geppo… are you CP?"
Seeing Karl use a Rokushiki art, Crocodile's eyes widened.
Almost reflexively, he wondered if the World Government had discovered his plot.
"I learned it off those guys."
Karl answered so he could focus on the fight.
"A monster, sure enough."
Crocodile believed him after a beat of silence.
A sea-blessed freak like this would be cultivated hard by Mary Geoise. They wouldn't just leave him roaming.
Karl flashed in front of him and punched straight at his face.
Having witnessed that fist's terror, Crocodile still refused to clash head-on. He became sand and melted into the storm, shifting places like instant movement through sand.
Elementalization won't save you every time against Haki-laced blows.
Unless one fuses deep Observation into the act and preemptively dissolves without telegraphing, evasion is never effortless.
And that assumes the opponent's Haki isn't outright superior.
If the foe's capacity and density rise high enough, even a Logia's "body" gets caught.
Clearly, Crocodile had little or no Observation to weave in.
Earlier, without full home-field boost and while Karl was only probing, he barely slipped two shots.
Now Karl's Haki kept swelling in both amount and bite. Even if Crocodile couldn't measure it, a veteran's instinct smelled danger.
Experience told him never to get cocky versus a Haki user—especially a sea-blessed monster like Karl.
Age means nothing to the Haki of such creatures.
Swish—
As Crocodile chose to evade, Karl spun and loosed a crescent-blue slash with a kick toward the point where that aura reappeared.
The slash was enormous, far above a typical flying cut.
But long-range blows that aren't fully sheathed in Haki were what Crocodile feared least.
He let Rankyaku cleave him in two.
Elementalized, he glanced back, eyes grave.
The flying cut pierced him, struck the twister, and wasn't shredded by the gale—its force rode above the wind and lopped the tornado in half.
So that one kick could bisect a high-rise with ease.
In that moment, Crocodile realized most techniques would be ineffective on Karl.
To win, only two high-difficulty paths existed.
One, use the desert's advantage to drain him dry.
Two, force close quarters, seize an opening, and use his strongest Erosion Cycle to suck him into a husk.
But against a monster like Karl, even Crocodile's confidence faltered at outlasting him.
Fighting a hand-to-hand titan like this, every exchange was lethal.
Either route would be hard.
By rights, the best plan was to avoid him.
But though Crocodile had quit the New World, his pride and ambition hadn't rusted like Moria's.
They still burned.
For that ambition and that elder's pride, he would never allow Nico Robin to be taken.
So even a sea-blessed monster—Crocodile would kill him.
Thus began a protracted tug-of-war across the sands.
I advance, you retreat. I attack, you defend.
Every punch and kick from Karl was lethal.
Crocodile dodged them all.
Every technique from Crocodile would be fatal to most.
Karl ignored them all.
Both were hunting for the single decisive opening.
If Karl landed one clean, Haki-laced blow on Crocodile's body, it would likely end it.
Likewise, in Crocodile's eyes, if he caught Karl distracted and got a hand on him, he could drain the water from his body and make him a husk.
To hamper Karl and shackle that unreasonable speed, Crocodile conjured a new sandstorm each time the last one died.
Outside Rainbase, tornado after tornado rose, and word of the spectacle spread across Alabasta by sundown.
"Your Majesty, our investigation shows the combatants in the desert outside Rainbase are Lord Crocodile and the mystery man Princess Vivi mentioned."
At dusk in the Alubarna palace, Bell folded his wings and knelt on one knee before Cobra. "The identity of the stranger is confirmed—a bounty hunter from the East Blue, a rising star recently twice in the World Economy News."
"So, the one secretly using Dance Powder in Alubarna is Crocodile?"
Cobra's brows knit. "Though a Warlord has legal raiding rights, he cannot strike at member nations. To flout this and use a banned powder here—what is his aim?"
"Your Majesty, I can't confirm Lord Crocodile used Dance Powder," Bell cautioned.
"Even so, a 'legal' pirate is still a pirate."
Cobra understood the undertone and said gravely, "All I can do now is hope that bounty hunter brings us proof of Crocodile's crimes."
"If he loses, then henceforth I must keep close watch on that man whom people increasingly hail as a hero."
Night fell.
On the sands, the storm raged on.
Watching Karl sprint through the air with eyes closed for hours—
Crocodile, who had witnessed hours of nonstop Geppo, Observation, and Armament, could only think of one word: monster.
If Karl were on the same golden-age plateau as he was, Crocodile wouldn't be shocked by days and nights of continuous Haki and superhuman arts.
But how old was Karl?
A teenager's body could explain his monstrous stamina.
But that seemingly bottomless Haki reserve was downright absurd.
Crocodile, who hadn't waged a war like this in years, was winded.
After so many town-swallowing sandstorms, he'd burned off seventy to eighty percent of his strength.
Even he hadn't expected his plan to drain Karl with the desert advantage to backfire—to drain himself first.
Had his body truly rusted?
Staring at the still-vibrant Karl, he mocked himself.
Karl didn't hear his thoughts.
Tracking Crocodile's state with Observation at all times, he smirked. "At your limit? In that case, warm-up's over."
Crocodile's pupils snapped tight, his scarred face twisting again.
Without a word, he drove another storm at Karl.
Karl calling hours of battle a warm-up insulted the pride of a strong man.
He couldn't know that for Karl, this had indeed been the best warm-up since crossing over.
Ever since his first evolution, every fight had been a one-shot or total stomp—over before the warm-up began.
Even with Rayleigh or Lucci, the same.
One wouldn't fight him; the other couldn't.
Though Crocodile's preemptive elementalization was tricky, the long duel truly lit Karl's blood.
"Next, I hope your elementalization is as quick as before."
He shattered the incoming storm with a punch, and golden, flowing Armament climbed both fists.
Unlike the flickers before, the volume now was enough for Crocodile to feel its terror.
"Come at me with everything, damn brat!"
Thinking Karl had finally gone all-out, Crocodile still refused to flee and roared a challenge.
Shu—
Karl answered with an aerial step so fast it cracked the air.
The shaving-blade he'd stolen from Lucci—Kamisori—reached its ultimate on Karl.
In less than a blink, Karl's body became an invincible blade, piercing sand and gale to appear before Crocodile. A golden fist flashed and swelled to fill his vision.
Boom—
Weighed down by the long duel, Crocodile's preemptive dissolve lagged at last.
His true body was caught squarely by that oceanic flow of Haki.
Where the fist touched had just begun to turn to sand—and instantly turned back.
An incomparable force landed on his chest.
There was no gaping void punched through him, nor a caved-in ribcage.
Only a colossal air cannon that blasted out his back.
"Guh—"
Even with mountain-crushing power, Crocodile didn't go flying.
He hung on Karl's fist, vomiting blood shot through with shreds of viscera.
That thoroughly rusted body—the same Crocodile who in the story couldn't withstand rubber punches—lost the fight in an instant before Karl's Afternoon-Tiger-level Rokuogan.
As said before.
Their long duel had been to seize a single finishing window.
In Crocodile's eyes, if he could just grab Karl, he could unleash Erosion Cycle and drain him dry.
In Karl's eyes, Crocodile's body could never endure a Haki-laced ultimate of Rokushiki.
Had Karl added internal destruction to that punch, Crocodile wouldn't merely be unconscious and badly hurt—he'd be at death's door.
Crocodile's "all-out" was still just Karl holding back.
At this stage, Karl's true trump is the mysterious gun.
Only when someone forces him to draw it is he truly all-in.
Compared to half-baked swordplay, or brute-force bullying with speed, or leveling up hand-to-hand with Absolute Comprehension—
Gunnery is Karl's strongest art.
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