Dragon Slayer

After settling everything and explaining all matters one by one, Rock watched as the chaos in the square was gradually replaced by order.

The Marines began operating by districts.

The injured were carried away.

The streets were sealed off.

The crowd was evacuated in an orderly manner.

Loguetown finally began, little by little, to return to "normal."

Not far away.

Crocodile had been standing there for a long time.

His cigar had burned halfway down.

The ember flickered as ash fell away in strips.

His gaze occasionally swept toward the distant sea before swiftly withdrawing.

The restless agitation he could not suppress was like a trapped storm.

Even without saying a word, it was plainly written across his face.

Rock glanced at him and casually flipped his hand.

A folded note had appeared between his fingers.

"Here."

He flicked it casually.

The note traced an arc through the air, and Crocodile instinctively reached out to catch it.

"Whitebeard's location."

Rock's tone was calm.

"After you see him—"

"Help me pass along a message."

Crocodile froze slightly, the cigar in his mouth nearly falling out.

He abruptly looked up, obvious shock and suspicion appearing in his eyes.

There was even a trace of... guardedness at being seen through.

"You..."

His voice lowered.

"How did you know I was planning to find him?"

It was a plan he had buried deep in his heart, one he had only just decided on himself.

Yet this man before him seemed to have been waiting at the end of his train of thought all along.

Rock did not turn back as he walked away, merely waving a hand casually.

His faint voice drifted over.

"External things—will only make people fall."

"To forge iron, you need to be strong yourself, little Crocodile~"

Crocodile stood where he