"Oh?"
Hearing those words, Shanu tilted his head slightly, intrigued.
"Oh? An ancient secret, huh?"
Yes—come closer, just a little closer.
He only needed a few more seconds.
Shaa...
It was a sound only Crocodile could sense. Beneath his skin, grains of sand began to churn, compress, and spiral together—
"Why do you think I've been active in Alabasta all this time? That kingdom… it's a thousand-year-old civilization—one that hides an ancient weapon capable of destroying the world itself…"
Crocodile's voice grew weaker as he spoke, rasping with every word.
Shanu leaned closer, bending down so that his ear was only inches away—
That's it. Take the bait.
A cruel grin tore across Crocodile's lips.
You fell for it, kid.
"Sandstorm: Heavenly Sand Rain!!"
BOOM!
At his low shout, countless fine cracks ripped open across Crocodile's body.
Golden sand spewed wildly from every fissure—then, in the next instant, his entire body exploded.
This wasn't a normal explosion. It was a self-destructive blast born from compressing his sand-form body to the absolute limit.
Countless sand bullets, each hardened with Armament Haki, burst forth like a storm of bullets, shredding the air around him.
Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!
The sand bullets slammed into Shanu's body in a relentless barrage, sounding like heavy rain on a tin roof.
Each one carried a shocking impact force—enough to drive Shanu back several meters, leaving deep furrows in the sand where his feet dragged.
He raised his arms to shield his body, the pressure shaking the ground.
"Brother!"
"Captain!"
Voices echoed from the Curtainfall ship.
Nami was already vaulting over the rail, ready to leap ashore—
But before her feet even hit the sand, Shanu's calm voice came through the swirling dust.
"I'm fine. Don't come over."
As the smoke cleared, his form emerged.
His shirt was shredded to rags—he tore off what remained and tossed it aside, revealing a body carved like steel.
Those sand bullets that could pierce iron plating had only left faint red welts on his skin.
Only on his chest, waist, and arms did a few deeper wounds bleed slightly.
"Got me bleeding, huh?"
Shanu spat a glob of blood, glanced at his wounds, then grinned.
"So that's your latest trick? Finally got something interesting. Can you do it again? I kinda wanna feel that one more time."
It was a friendly, almost innocent smile—
But in Crocodile's eyes, it was the grin of a devil.
"Cough… damn… what a drag…"
Crocodile wheezed, rolling onto his back in the sand, staring up at the night sky.
With trembling fingers, he fished a cigar from his coat, clamped it between his teeth, and after several failed strikes—finally lit it.
He took a long drag, exhaled smoke mixed with blood, and chuckled bitterly.
"Even that… didn't work? What the hell are you, monster…"
His body was breaking apart, leaking sand from every wound, his presence fading fast.
Shanu watched quietly.
Without treatment, he'd be dead soon anyway.
"Guess that's all you had in you."
He crouched beside him, disappointed.
"So it was a self-detonation move, huh? No wonder I'd never seen it before."
"Never seen it before?"
Crocodile snorted weakly. "The hell are you talking about, brat? We only just met. Don't act like you know me."
Of course he knew.
If only this world had anime replays, Shanu thought.
He'd love to pull up a few clips of Luffy pounding this guy into the dirt with his Gear Second fists and see the look on Crocodile's face.
Anyway—he'd been on guard the whole time.
That sudden change earlier—when Crocodile had gone from proud to pitiful—was way too suspicious.
No matter how you looked at it, there was no way a man who once stood against Whitebeard and Akainu would crumble like that over a single defeat.
Something that off always has a trick behind it.
So before the blast hit, Shanu had already hardened his body to its peak with Iron Body, then instantly covered himself in Armament Haki when the sand detonated.
Otherwise, Crocodile might've actually turned things around.
"By rights, I could just walk away and let you bleed out," Shanu said coolly. "But guys like you have a nasty habit of surviving. Can't take that risk."
"Heh… spare me the hero talk," Crocodile sneered. "If our roles were reversed, I'd show no mercy either."
"No rush. Finish your smoke first."
"…Huh?" Crocodile blinked, glanced at the cigar. "…Thanks."
They sat in silence until the cigar was almost gone.
Then Shanu placed his hand on Crocodile's neck.
"When you get to Hell, don't hold a grudge."
"Dream on." Crocodile smirked. "I'll remember this in my next life too. I couldn't stand losing to Whitebeard—and you think I'll forget being beaten by some rookie?"
He took one last drag and laughed.
"Hah! To think there's someone like you among the new generation… This sea's future's about to get real interesting. Those smug old monsters in the New World… their glory days are numbered!"
Shanu raised a brow, smiling faintly.
"Thanks for the compliment."
Crack.
Crocodile's head went limp. His sand body dissolved into the wind.
After confirming the Warlord's death, Shanu dusted off his hands and stood up.
The golden sands settled again. From the ship, his crew—who'd been holding their breath the whole time—finally came running.
"Brother! Are you okay!?"
Nami dashed forward with a medkit, fumbling for bandages and alcohol.
But when she looked up, she froze.
The gashes and bruises she'd seen earlier… were gone.
Under the moonlight, his skin was flawless again—without a single scar.
"Wait, what? Was I hallucinating earlier…?"
"No… not a hallucination."
Smoker approached, puffing on his cigar, eyes narrowing.
"It's Life Return. The captain's mastery of it must've reached the peak. I've never seen anyone control it like that—not even the Marine Admirals."
Shanu chuckled, ruffling Nami and Nojiko's hair.
Inwardly, he rolled his eyes.
Please. Admiral-level Life Return? Not even close. This is regeneration, pal.
"Not even the Admirals?"
Nami gasped. "So, Bro—how strong are you now? You took down a Warlord like it was nothing! Could you fight an Admiral already!?"
"Ha, not even close," Shanu laughed, flicking her forehead. "Don't make me sound like I'm invincible."
He'd been unsure when he first set out to sea, but after fighting Vice Admiral Onigumo and Crocodile, he had a clear sense of his level now.
Among the Seven Warlords, he'd rank near the top—most Marine Vice Admirals couldn't match him.
But compared to the Emperors' top commanders in the New World? He still had a long way to go.
As for standing against an Admiral or Emperor themselves… not even close.
If someone like Kaido took a swing at him, he wasn't sure how many hits he could even survive.
He still had a long road ahead.
That night, the Curtainfall dropped anchor near the port.
The bounty hunters who'd been hiding in the desert didn't dare come close.
Most had fled behind Cactus Hill long ago.
Fine by him. Shanu wasn't looking for trouble.
Mutual peace suited everyone.
They built a campfire near the shore, sitting around it for a quick debrief.
"Crocodile's usually active around Alabasta," Shanu said, sipping hot coffee. "So he must've gotten the order to hunt us down from Marine HQ about a week ago—right after the Loguetown incident. Looks like they're taking us seriously, trying to cut us down before we reach the New World."
"Guess they didn't expect the captain to be this strong."
Chef Zeff grinned, passing around food. "When the news gets out that Crocodile's dead, Marine HQ'll be in shock."
"Hah! Just thinking about their faces makes me laugh," said Smoker. "If Vice Admirals and Warlords can't handle you, they'll get desperate enough to send an Admiral next!"
Zeff shook his head. "That's not likely. Admirals are the Navy's top power—they can't just leave their posts unless they know exactly where to strike. Unless we make a big scene in some crowded city, we're probably safe."
"So, we just keep a low profile in big towns, huh?" Zeff mused. "Wouldn't want an Admiral dropping in while we're shopping."
"Exactly," Shanu said with a smirk. "But our next stop—Little Garden—is an uninhabited island. No need to worry yet."
He turned to Nami.
"How's the Log Pose?"
"It's already one-fifth charged!" she said brightly. "At this rate, we'll be ready to sail by noon tomorrow!"
"Good. That's about sixteen, seventeen hours." Shanu nodded. "That's fast, even for the Grand Line."
Each island's magnetic field varied wildly—some charged in hours, others in weeks… even years.
"Alright," Shanu concluded, "everyone rest up. Gin, you're on night watch. Tomorrow morning we resupply and head for Little Garden!"
The crew cheered their captain's order—
Except Gin, who slumped in despair.
What!? I just took a nap on deck, that counts as sleeping!? Come on, boss… at least get a pet to share the workload!
But he didn't dare complain aloud.
Instead, when Shanu turned away, Gin glared at his captain's long shadow on the sand… and peed on it in protest.
The next morning, the crew split up to restock supplies in town.
As for the terrified shopkeepers who'd fled during the battle?
Didn't matter.
The Curtainfall pirates prided themselves on being fair traders.
They left payment on every counter—market price, to the last Beli.
Meanwhile, Shanu scavenged the battlefield, claiming his spoils.
[You offered Mr. 5's sunglasses – gained 120 points]
[You offered Miss Valentine's parasol – gained 80 points]
[You offered Crocodile's hook – gained 2700 points]
[Current balance: 44,000 points]
Mr. 5 and Crocodile were dead beyond saving.
Miss Valentine, though, had only been knocked unconscious.
When Nami woke her up that morning, the girl took one look at her partner's mummy-like corpse and burst into tears.
She clung to Nami, sobbing, saying she didn't want to be a Baroque Works agent anymore—she just wanted to go home and open a café.
Even Nami couldn't help but feel bad.
She untied the girl herself, gave her food and water, and let her go.
Shanu watched, saying nothing.
He knew his sister's heart was too kind for this world.
Still, he didn't stop her.
That was Nami's victory—so it was her choice whether her opponent lived or died.
Besides… Miss Valentine was weak.
Even if she wasn't bluffing about retiring, her "10,000-kilo crush" power wasn't worth losing sleep over.
A flying dumbbell, nothing more.
No reason to take it seriously.
By noon, the Log Pose was fully charged.
The Curtainfall unfurled her sails, departing Whiskey Peak.
Hidden bounty hunters peeked from behind Cactus Hill, watching the ship shrink to a dark dot on the horizon.
"They're gone… really gone…"
A cowboy-hatted hunter dropped his binoculars, realizing his back was drenched in sweat.
In the tavern, others whispered nervously around the bar.
"Hey… last night, that was really the Warlord Crocodile, right?"
"No kidding it was!"
A bearded man slammed his drink, hands still shaking.
"The whole damn port turned to sand—who else could it be? They already found his body! I've been bounty hunting for fifteen years, and I've never seen anything like it!"
The others nodded. Even now, their minds replayed the sight of that moonlit battle—
A fight so fierce it split the desert itself.
A Warlord of the Sea—
Dead.
Even with his fearsome Devil Fruit powers, even after turning half the island into sand, he was defeated—by that young pirate captain, Shanu of the Curtainfall.
Just how strong was he?
"Reporters will be here soon," said one hunter in awe. "Once this hits the news, his bounty's gonna skyrocket again!"
The younger ones stared at the sea, eyes shining.
"To be that famous before twenty… man, even as a bounty hunter, I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat!"
"Ha! Get lost," the bearded man kicked him lightly, raising his glass again. "Still, we're the lucky ones, huh? We lived through it. Didn't lose a limb. And we got to witness a new legend being born. That's something to tell the kids about someday."
"…A new legend," someone echoed softly.
They all turned toward the glittering horizon—
And for a moment, every one of them nodded.