It had been a beautiful city once, or as much of it as Crocodile had been able to see before being brought into one of the buildings. After that, he hadn't been out much. It could have been worse. He could have been one of the slaves on mount duty, and he had little interest in being seen by anyone who might recognise him from before or remember him later when he got out of this place.
Or that was what he thought when he still expected to be able to get out. Right now, with the city on fire and him still chained to the house of the man who had bought him, he was starting to have doubts about surviving this one. Still, it had been a beautiful city once. It would become much more so without its inhabitants.
"...the bearers of sacred blood! The descendants of the world's founding kings! Lowlife scum coming in like they have any right to even breathe our air..."
Crocodile could only watch the noble's tirade with disgust. Usually he at least had a malicious sort of intellect that made him almost bearable when he committed his atrocities. Collar or no, there was no way Crocodile would be able to hide his contempt if this wretched imbecile carried on like this.
"My sons! My sons who have never been tainted by the presence of those beasts..."
"What do you care? Buy new sons. Intelligent ones, preferably."
"Quiet, animal!" The noble threw an exquisitely decorated vase at Crocodile. It shattered against the wall next to his head. Could have fed a small island with it, or maybe bought Crocodile a new suit. "Their purity must be preserved, for the sake of the blood of this world's creators..."
"What have the likes of you ever created? Or you? You've made two inbred bastards who can barely write their own names. Still, I doubt their blood looks very different from yours or mine when it's spilled." Crocodile's mouth twisted in a cruel grin. "Shouldn't be long now. I'll be sure not to die before I see all of you go first."
The noble's boot cracked into Crocodile's jaw, not hard enough to hurt him under normal circumstances, but fatigue and hunger and the seastone embedded in the sole were too much together. Crocodile glared at him like he would at something he had stepped on, so full of distaste that he looked down on him even when he was forced to look up.
"Subhuman filth," spat the noble. "You who are not worthy of licking the soles of my shoes, you dare..."
Crocodile's eyes flashed red in the glare of the flames already licking at the arched windows. "Don't put yourself above me. Your kind is nowhere near my level."
This time it was the noble's rings digging into Crocodile's flesh as he struck him hard with the back of his hand. "My kind is everything," he hissed, voice barely steady with the anger and fear of the fire rattling it. "Our power is absolute. Nothing in this world turns or stills without our knowledge."
"Then stop this fire. Save yourself from your killer."
"Shut up, shut up!" The noble wrapped his fingers round Crocodile's neck; the seastone in the rings made his jaw go numb and raised the steady thud of his pulse into a heavy, distressed throb. "I can do anything... anything." A gemstone had fallen loose from the shards of the vase. He took it, hovering above Crocodile's face. "To you, to the inhuman slime crawling out there..."
The gem was damaged, jagged on one side. It bit through the flesh of Crocodile's temple like a fish hook and ate its way across his face in a straight, precise line, facing little resistance from his skin. Crocodile's jaw was pushed up, and the blood poured into his eyes.
"Look at you talk, slave. What can you do to stop me?" A few drops fell from the now stained stone. Something nearby broke with a loud crack. "You think I'll allow you to say what you want just because there's vermin on the streets. Make no mistake: the cleaners will come, and my house will remain untainted." Bending down again, he put the gem above Crocodile's left eye.
Crocodile could barely breathe with the rage of the sea at his throat, but he managed to raise a hand and grab the noble's wrist. "It'll be you before me."
A wall fell down behind them, but the noble reached for the chain of Crocodile's bomb collar. He was there one moment, then suddenly gone the next; Crocodile blinked blood out of his eyes, trying to see what had happened, and was pressed back to the floor by hands much larger and rougher than his.
"Stay still. I'll unlock this." The collar fell on the floor, harmless. The man's features were clearer now. A fishman. So full of strength to level a whole city like this, so full of violence. Crocodile would have smiled if his face hadn't hurt so much where it had been split.
"Am I next?"
The fishman paused. He had a stern look in his eyes. "I'm freeing all the slaves. You, too."
"Free..."
"You should leave as quickly as possible."
Crocodile blinked slowly, as if in agreement. He pushed himself up despite the throbbing in his head; the fishman was already leaving, and Crocodile called after him to ask him a question. The answer he got left him both taken aback and with a confused reawakening of hope he hadn't known he had buried.
"Damn dirty fish in my house..." mumbled the noble although the fishman was gone. Crocodile staggered to him, impressed with the way the thick wall had bent and cracked where the noble's body had been slammed into it.
"Your sons... they're in their hiding room, right?"
"You're not touching them..." The noble drew his gun pathetically slowly. Crocodile turned his back to him and walked to the opposite wall. The bullet went through his head; he had missed the feeling.
"Behind here, am I correct?" Ignoring the noble's sickening whines, Crocodile laid his hand on the wall. The devil's power stirred inside him once more. The room beyond collapsed, and the loud but short screams coming from the other side were proof enough that he had remembered correctly.
"I'll have you gutted and stuffed like an animal!" screamed the noble as if in actual pain.
"You'll show me where you keep your documents and valuables," Crocodile replied, rolling up the tattered sleeves of his shirt. There had better be clothes he could fit into in the house. "If you won't, I'll search for them myself and take my time killing you."
When he was done with the house and its master, Crocodile stepped into the surprisingly soothing weather outside. It was nice and warm even without the fire feeding on the ancient buildings, and what little sky he could see from the roaring flames suggested it was a good day for sailing. The wound on his face still glistened with fresh blood, but he would take care of that later. His legs turned into sand and dispersed, and he flew...
Back in his cabin on his ship, Crocodile caught himself touching the scar as though it still hurt. His hook remained on the desk, leaving his other scar uncovered. He supposed there was no reason to bother with that anymore, but he would still need the hook as a weapon. Any minute now.
There was a knock at the door, and it was opened before he could say anything. That's right... he hadn't even got up to lock it again.
"Boss?"
Crocodile found himself unable to reply. It made no difference. Daz would come in no matter what he did now.
