A Marine having Conqueror's Haki was already absurd enough.
The sheer strength of that Conqueror's Haki exceeded anything Crocodile had imagined.
That endless pressure, surging like a fountain, kept washing over the world around him.
For a moment, Crocodile found himself recalling the time he had faced that old man, Whitebeard.
"No, impossible!"
How could this Marine possibly rival Whitebeard?!
Yet the truth was that, although Randall's Conqueror's Haki was still somewhat "immature" overall, its quality was already on par with Whitebeard's.
That was undoubtedly a blow to Crocodile.
The little lamb he had seen before him had suddenly transformed into a ferocious tiger!
How could he not be alarmed?
After shattering Crocodile's momentum, Randall did not stop. He started forward again, walking toward Crocodile one step at a time.
With every step Randall took closer, his figure seemed to loom taller in Crocodile's eyes.
Cold sweat dripped from Crocodile's forehead, and a strand of hair fell in front of his eyes, making him look all the more disheveled.
But he was still Crocodile. Making him submit through Conqueror's Haki alone was naturally impossible.
He drew a deep breath and raised his eyes, just about to make a move, only to meet Randall's gaze.
Those eyes were as calm as still water, just like Whitebeard's had been that day—that utterly unconcerned look, as though he were watching an ignorant child fool around.
Crocodile felt as though lightning had struck him.
He took ten thousand points of critical damage on the spot.
"Enough of your tricks! It's a Devil Fruit, isn't it?! Let me tear through your disguise!"
That possibility suddenly occurred to Crocodile.
He attributed everything to a Devil Fruit.
That was the only explanation that made sense!
Then Crocodile's body suddenly dissolved into sand, which rode a sinister gust