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Perona was the first to break the paralysis. A sharp cry, half-horrified, half-indignant, burst from her lips. "NAKAMA?!" She pointed a trembling finger at Crocodile, her face shifting from scarlet red to a ghostly pale. "HIM?! Mihawk, have you lost your mind?! He's a MONSTER! A… a…" Her Horos, mirroring her panic, spun frantically around her, letting out high-pitched distressed noises.
Korran, still standing defensively in front of Perona, his muscles taut under his tunic, growled, "Captain…"
Law simply froze, his hand clenching around Kikoku until his knuckles turned white. "Crocodile…" he murmured.
Cavendish, after a moment of total shock, found his voice in a burst of aristocratic fury. "ABSURD!" he thundered, drawing Durandal with a theatrical flourish, the blade aimed at Crocodile.
"Calm yourself, Cavendish," Mihawk cut in, his voice low but instantly silencing the tirade. His golden eyes settled on the dandy. Cavendish faltered as if struck, his sword trembling in his hand. The fleeting shadow of Hakuba, starting to form behind him, dissipated in a shiver of animal fear. The dandy lowered his blade, his face pale.
Kiku observed the scene with her large dark eyes, analyzing the reactions, the palpable hostility. Her gaze briefly met Crocodile's. There was no fear or anger in her eyes, only an intense curiosity. She inclined her head slightly, a purely formal courtesy, before turning her attention back to Mihawk, waiting for what came next.
Crocodile, meanwhile, seemed to relish the chaos. A cruel sneer stretched his lips beneath his scar as he drew a long puff from his cigar, the smoke curling lazily into the tense air. His cold, mocking yellow eyes roamed over the horrified faces with evident delight.
"What a warm welcome," he drawled, dripping with irony. He blew the smoke in Perona's direction, making her jump back behind Korran with a little whimper. "Screams of terror, murderous glares…" His gaze landed on Law, whom he sized up with undisguised contempt. "…and even a little punk from the so-called Worst Generation. Lovely." He took a step forward, his boots carelessly crushing a rose that had fallen from Cavendish's hand. "This promises to be… lively."
"Shut up, Crocodile!" Law spat, unable to contain his rage any longer. "You clearly don't belong here."
Crocodile let out a dry, humorless laugh. "And yet, here I am, little surgeon. Thanks to the insight of your… esteemed captain." He cast a sidelong glance at Mihawk. "Apparently, he sees value where you see only trash. A talent, I suppose."
The insult to the entire crew made Korran roar. "Why you…!" He took a step forward, fists clenched, ready to charge.
"KORRAN." Mihawk's voice. The young man froze, trembling with pent-up frustration. Mihawk's gaze swept over the entire scene. "The decision is made. Crocodile is now part of this crew."
He paused, letting his words sink in.
"Your personal feelings," he continued, his piercing gaze lingering particularly on Law and Korran, "your past grudges, your… aesthetic preferences," his eyes brushed over Cavendish, "are irrelevant. He is here. He stays. You will learn to coexist."
Perona wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the lack of cold. "But Mihawk… why?" Her voice was barely a trembling whisper, almost childlike in her distress. "He'll kill us in our sleep… or worse, steal all my stuff!"
Crocodile let out a low noise that might have passed for a laugh. "Relax, little ghost. Your pink trinkets don't interest me." He drew on his cigar. "Unless they're worth gold."
Perona let out a muffled squeak and hid completely behind Korran.
"Captain," Law interjected, forcing his voice to remain neutral though the effort showed. His eyes still burned. "You know his history. Can you at least tell us… what his role will be?"
Mihawk turned his gaze to Law. "His role is what I assign him, Trafalgar Law," he replied simply. "For now, his role is to be present. To understand the dynamics of this ship." His gaze shifted to Crocodile. "And to remember that any action against a member of this crew will be considered an action against me."
Crocodile held the Hawk's gaze without flinching, one eyebrow slightly raised, his sneer still in place. He said nothing, but the faint narrowing of his yellow eyes betrayed that he'd gotten the message.
Perona bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes, but gave a tiny nod. Korran growled, a deep, displeased sound, but tore his burning gaze away from Crocodile and fixed it on the deck. Cavendish let out a theatrical sigh and looked away. Law, however, didn't lower his eyes. He held Mihawk's gaze for several interminable seconds, his expression unreadable. Then, very slowly, he released his grip on Kikoku and turned his head slightly aside.
Only Kiku, still calm, inclined her head slightly. "Welcome aboard, Crocodile," she said, her soft voice cutting through the electric atmosphere.
Crocodile let out another noise that might have been a stifled laugh. "Polite one, this one," he commented, casting a disdainful look around the ship. "Now that the touching introductions are over…" He stubbed his cigar out on the railing, leaving a black mark on the varnished wood, which made Kiku flinch. "…where's my cabin? I assume the best quarters are ready? The one with a stern view, far from all this… juvenile noise." His gaze slid toward Perona and Cavendish with contempt.
Perona opened her mouth to protest, but Mihawk anticipated her. "Kiku," he said, without looking away from Crocodile. "Show our new companion to cabin number 3. It is spacious and quiet."
Crocodile raised an eyebrow, seeming about to contest the "3" and what was likely not "the best" in his eyes, but one brief, icy look from Mihawk made him swallow the comment. He simply grunted and gave Kiku a condescending nod. "Lead on, my dear. And quickly. The smell of despair and wilted roses is starting to make me nauseous."
Cavendish flinched, red with anger. "Wilted roses?! How dare you, you—"
"Cavendish," Mihawk cut in, his tone brooking no argument. "Help Korran stow the last supplies. Perona, check the inventory. Law, with me." He turned on his heel and headed for the quarterdeck, implicitly expecting obedience.
The crew scattered like a disturbed hive.
Korran began stowing crates with unusual brutality, making the deck tremble. Perona floated toward the hold, dragging her feet and shooting dark looks at Crocodile's back as he followed Kiku to the cabins, his fur coat sweeping the floor. Cavendish stood there for a moment before resigning himself to grabbing a sack of rice with disgust, as if it were a bag of garbage.
Law, after a second of hesitation, joined Mihawk on the quarterdeck. The surgeon crossed his arms, leaning against the railing, his gray eyes fixed on the horizon rather than the captain. "You're playing with fire, Mihawk. Or with a powder keg. Crocodile only serves his own interests. He'll betray you at the first opportunity."
Mihawk didn't answer immediately. He was watching the distant port of Ker-Bisth, a dark blot on the misty coast. "Everyone serves their own interests, Law," he said at last, calmly. "Even you. Even me. The question is whether our interests align long enough." He turned his head toward the surgeon. "Crocodile is motivated by knowledge. The knowledge I hold, or can give him access to. That makes him… predictable. For now."
Law crossed his arms tighter. "And when he gets what he wants? Or decides you're in his way?"
"Your suspicion is noted, Law. Watch him if you like. But don't start an open conflict. His strength is real, and we'll need it."
"Need it for what?" Law finally asked the question that had been gnawing at him. "To become Pirate King? Or something else?"
Mihawk didn't answer directly. He placed a hand on the wheel, though the Nachtrone was at anchor. "My first real objective is the land of the samurai."
A flicker of understanding crossed Law's gray eyes. "Wano…" he murmured.
Mihawk nodded slowly. "To wrest that country from the Beast's claws, Crocodile will have a role to play."
Law felt a shiver of excitement mixed with apprehension run down his spine.
"And Crocodile in all this?" Law pressed, coming back to the disruptive element. "He's just going to go along with it?"
"Crocodile," Mihawk said, a cold gleam in his golden eyes, "has every reason to go to Wano. And that will serve our common goals. For a time." He tapped the wood of the wheel lightly. "I know your strategic mind, which is why I'm sharing this plan with you. I'd like you to draft a plan by then."
Law was silent for a moment.
"…Fine," he finally replied, his voice low but firm. "I'll work on a plan. But you'll have to be clear about what exactly you expect." He straightened, uncrossing his arms and slipping his hands into his pockets. "I suppose this is about taking, not stealing…"
A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Mihawk's lips. "A king takes, indeed." He released the wheel and turned, his dark coat snapping in the breeze. "We'll discuss it starting tomorrow."
Law didn't answer, his thoughts already elsewhere.
He glanced up at Mihawk, already descending the quarterdeck.