"I understand. Keep investigating."
Click.
"Syrons!"
The call ended with a crisp sound. Crocodile muttered that name, his expression darkening with grave intensity.
"Nielmark Syrons? Who's that?" Aeridar frowned, puzzled.
He could tell from Crocodile's expression that this Syrons guy was no joke, but the name had never come up in the original canon. Aeridar had no clue how powerful this so-called "Ghost Hammer" truly was.
"Syrons… he's an old-school Marine, from the same generation as Fleet Admiral Sengoku and the Hero, Garp."
That one line from Crocodile made Aeridar and the others freeze in shock.
"That level of veteran…" Aeridar inhaled sharply, at a loss for words.
A Marine of that era, even if not quite on par with Sengoku, Garp, or the Admirals, was still likely to be terrifyingly strong. At the very least, far beyond a typical Vice Admiral.
"Nielmark Syrons. A veteran Vice Admiral with the Hammer-Hammer Fruit, Paramecia-type. From what I've heard, if not for some grave injury in the past that left lasting internal damage, he would've been a top contender for the previous Admiral seat." Crocodile's tone grew grim, shadowed by something like respect.
"Is that old man still strong?" Oliver asked gruffly, hand tightening around the hilt of Nagamitsu.
Crocodile shot him a sidelong glance and replied without hesitation, "His Devil Fruit is powerful, and his Armament Haki is monstrous."
These rookie pirates, Aeridar and his crew, had never heard of the name "Ghost Hammer" Syrons, let alone seen him in action. But Crocodile had. He once witnessed Syrons clash with a swordsman of top-tier caliber, a true master. That swordsman unleashed dozens of slashes, landing them squarely on Syrons' body, yet not one managed to pierce through his Armament Haki. Syrons, in turn, struck back with a single hammer blow, nearly caving the pirate in. In the end, Syrons dragged him off to Impel Down like it was nothing.
"Damn..." Aeridar clicked his tongue, visibly shaken.
He knew Crocodile, arrogant to a fault, dismissive of nearly everyone. For someone like that to speak so cautiously of another man? It meant Syrons was the real deal.
"What's he like? Don't tell me he's one of those rigid types obsessed with 'Absolute Justice'?" Aeridar asked, curiosity piqued.
After all, for Crocodile to take someone this seriously, especially someone from the same era as Sengoku, Monkey D. Garp, and Zephyr, it made Aeridar wonder: was Syrons as strict as Zephyr? Or as unpredictable and cheeky as Garp?
"Uhh…" Crocodile's lip twitched as he recalled the man's temperament. He let out a dry grunt and muttered, "A sneaky, half-assed, stubborn old fart."
"…," Aeridar blinked.
"…," Arlan said nothing.
"…," Oliver said even less.
The room fell into a brief, awkward silence.
Eventually, unable to take the awkward vibe, Arlan broke the stillness: "Alright. So… are they here for us?"
"No idea," Aeridar answered with a mysterious smile tugging at his lips. "But we can find out."
Seeing that look on Aeridar's face, Crocodile narrowed his eyes. "You already have a plan?"
"We'll need your help," Aeridar said, lifting his head to meet Crocodile's gaze directly. "Mind sending someone to ask?"
"Damn brat, always making things difficult…" Crocodile grumbled, dead-eyed as ever. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, but he understood.
After all, Crocodile was still one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. The Marines weren't supposed to attack him without proper cause. The deal between the World Government and the Warlords forbade Marine forces from entering their territory without permission. So Crocodile sending someone to 'inquire' made perfect sense, and it also doubled as a way to test their intentions.
Sending a veteran Marine Vice Admiral after a rookie pirate like Aeridar seemed like massive overkill. But if Syrons was after Crocodile, that didn't add up either, since the Marines couldn't just move against a Warlord unprovoked. They had to figure out what the Navy was really here for.
"I'll handle it," Crocodile said, rising to his feet with a puff from his cigar. Smoke coiled behind him as he strode toward the door.
"Arlan," Aeridar turned. "Notify Backan. Be on alert for a surprise attack from the Navy."
"Understood." Arlan nodded immediately.
...
Later that afternoon, in a desert village—
A tiny settlement built around an oasis, housing maybe a hundred families at most. Usually, no one came here for weeks at a time. But today, the place was crawling with people, hundreds of them.
Hundreds of Marines had occupied the village. They carried rifles, blades, and some were even setting up tents. Dozens of camels milled around the outskirts, laden with supplies.
"Vice Admiral Syrons, one of Crocodile's men just delivered this."
Commodore Cray, his face sharp and angular, approached holding a sealed letter in his right hand.
"Oh? Is that so?"
Seated beneath a tree and sipping from a canteen, Syrons raised a brow. He took the letter and gave it a quick scan before letting out a laugh.
"Heh. That sand-croc ain't the type to write letters. Obvious this isn't from him, just trying to suss out our objective."
"And the messenger?"
"Waiting outside the village."
"Then go tell him this, pass it on to that sand-slinging crocodile: he'd better kick Golden Ring Aeridar out of Rainbase. If Rainbase gets wrecked, don't blame the Marines."
Syrons waved lazily in the direction of the desert, then casually tossed the letter to the ground and stomped it a few times like a child throwing a tantrum.
"On it." Cray twitched at the sight, but didn't question it. He nodded and turned to leave.
As he departed, another Marine approached, bare-chested, with only the 'Justice' coat draped over his shoulders. He furrowed his brow and asked, "Vice Admiral Syrons, why tell Crocodile what we're here for?"
"Zoka, does it matter?" Syrons shrugged, brushing his fingers along his bushy mustache. "That Golden Ring kid's been in Rainbase for days now. Obviously, he and Crocodile have some sort of deal. They already know we're here."
He paused, voice turning colder.
"Besides, I'm just baiting them. I want that kid to come out. If we fight in Rainbase and the place gets trashed, there'll be civilian casualties. Neither Crocodile nor the Kingdom of Alabasta will let that slide."
"True," Zoka muttered. "Especially right now. The World Government would be furious."
"That's why we draw him out… and finish this on our terms," Syrons said coolly.
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