[PS: This book is pretty much dead at this point. Don't bother reading the chapters below. It'll be done for when this month ends.]
Crocodile turned his gaze back to the sea, regaining his outward composure.
He removed his cigar, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the broken edge of the Golden Hook.
That instant of icy warning had brought him to his senses even more.
Value... I have to show new value as soon as possible.
He needed intelligence, needed a direction, needed a "destination" that interested the Demon King.
"Lord Demon King," Crocodile took a deep breath and straightened his back, his voice carrying a trace of deliberate deference as he broke the oppressive silence.
He chose to speak directly to the source. "A long journey always needs a direction. Where do you intend to go next?"
"The New World? The starting point of the Grand Line? Or perhaps... in search of more interesting 'sights'?"
He probed cautiously, "Though I've abandoned my position among the Seven Warlords of the Sea, after years of operations, I may have some insignificant... intelligence about certain hidden corners of this sea."
Despite everything he said, the figure at the bow did not move an inch.
Just as Crocodile thought the other man would not deign to respond at all, a voice so flat it barely rose or fell drifted over on the sea breeze. "Ancient energy. Was it called the Mother Flame or something?"
The key words were concise, cold, and offered no clues.
Crocodile's pupils abruptly contracted. Ancient energy? The term was like a boulder cast into deep water, stirring towering waves in his heart!
Not Pluton, not Poseidon, but something more fundamental, more mysterious?!
He instantly thought of those fragments on the Alabasta stone tablet that Robin had not translated, concerning the