Luffy's words echoed through the cramped hospital room.
Every word was a gem, striking the floor with weight.
Crocodile stared blankly at Luffy.
The boy's utterly unclouded eyes were like the sharpest sword, piercing straight through the layers of disguise, fear, and despair wrapped around him.
In a daze, he saw himself from many years ago—the man who had just set out to sea and dared to challenge Whitebeard all alone.
Back then, he had no schemes, no conspiracies—only an unstoppable spirit that charged straight ahead.
When had he begun to change?
Was it after Whitebeard shattered his dream?
Or was it after he witnessed the unchangeable reality under Ross's rule?
He had abandoned his original self, placed his hopes in outside things, and in the end, become unrecognizable.
"Blaming the times... being afraid..."
Crocodile murmured to himself, his shriveled chest rising and falling faintly once more.
He looked at Luffy for a long, long time.
Suddenly, the cynical sneer at the corner of his mouth vanished.
In its place was a pure smile of relief.
Even if that smile still carried a trace of a warlord's unruly arrogance.
"What a complete and utter idiot... a hopeless madman."
Crocodile let out a long breath and slowly closed his eyes.
The fire of life that had once been completely extinguished by despair, at this moment, had miraculously kindled a faint glimmer again.
"Since you want to go smash your head against a wall, then let this broken body of mine live a little longer."
Crocodile's voice was still weak, but it carried a long-lost sharpness and calm acceptance.
"Let me see with my own eyes whether you, this boastful Straw Hat brat, will be ground to dust by this damned era."
"Or whether you really can punch a hole through this