On Ranro Island, inside a small, quiet restaurant, the patrons were secretly throwing fearful glances at a man of unimpressive stature sitting alone at a table.
The young Crocodile, his face still unscarred and his hair styled in a sharp, slicked-back fashion, had already begun making a name for himself on the Grand Line.
Theoretically, he could already recruit a massive crew and set sail with his own fleet.
However, due to the specific weakness of his Devil Fruit, Crocodile detested the ocean far more than most ability users.
Even the moisture-laden sea breeze made him profoundly uncomfortable.
Feeling somewhat lost as to his next move, Crocodile planned to finish his meal and then visit other islands to carve out his own path to power.
Creak.
The restaurant door was pushed open from the outside, shattering the tense silence.
All the diners turned to see who the unlucky fool was, daring to be so loud and reckless.
If the notoriously moody Crocodile decided to act, they would all have to rush out immediately to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.
Leading the new group was a tall, handsome man with a warm, relaxed smile.
Beside him was a fair-skinned, long-legged beauty with a small mole at the corner of her lips adding a touch of allure.
Following closely behind them was an exceptionally burly, towering figure whose broad frame blocked out the sunlight entirely.
To everyone's horror, the man and woman at the front were wearing the distinctive white coats of the Marines.
'The Marines...' Crocodile's muscles instantly tensed at the sight of the trio entering.
It was not about strength—it was a purely instinctive reaction.
Pirates always tensed up at the sight of a Marine coat, regardless of their own power.
However, the trio seemed not to have even noticed Crocodile.
They walked straight in, found an empty table, and sat down.
"Boss!" the leading Marine called out. "Three servings of seafood fried rice, three servings of seafood fried noodles, a few of your house specialties, and ten liters of rum. We will order more if it is not enough."
Raleigh casually wiped the table with a napkin and sat down with Gion and Bullet.
After obtaining the intel from the CP agents, they knew Crocodile was eating in this exact restaurant and had come straight here.
Since Crocodile had not left yet, there was no need to rush.
Besides, they had been in a hurry all morning and skipped breakfast, so Raleigh decided they should just have their meal here first.
The restaurant owner stood frozen behind the counter, unsure of what to do.
On one side was a rising, lethal pirate and on the other were Marine officers of unknown rank.
He was caught in a terrifying dilemma—if these three Marines could not defeat Crocodile, his little shop would be burned to the ground.
Noticing the owner's hesitation, Bullet looked up and frowned.
"What are you standing there for, boss? Hurry up with the food. We are starving."
"Ah, s-sorry, honored guests! Please wait a moment, it will be right out!" The owner frantically wiped cold sweat from his forehead.
The burly man who had spoken seemed just as dangerous as Crocodile.
Bullet had been keeping his head down when he walked in, and since Crocodile had his back to the door, the young pirate had not gotten a clear look at his face until now.
But hearing the voice and seeing the massive frame, Crocodile finally recognized him.
The rising pirate star... once a core combatant of the Roger Pirates.
'The "Demon Heir," Douglas Bullet.'
Crocodile's mind raced.
Why would someone as infamous as Bullet be mixing with two Marines?
Could it be that Bullet had been captured and broken by the Navy?
But judging by the casual demeanor of the three individuals, that was clearly not the case!
The Navy man and woman were clearly a couple.
Bullet showed a begrudging respect toward the Navy man, but was noticeably less deferential to the woman.
Evidently, there was some bizarre, mysterious connection between them.
While pondering the relationship between the three monsters sitting across the room, Crocodile calmly brought a forkful of seafood pasta to his mouth.
"Y-Your orders are here, honored guests."
Before long, Raleigh's massive meal arrived.
The fresh seafood mixed with the chewy noodles released an invigorating aroma that instantly whetted the appetite.
Seeing such delicious food in a rundown tavern, all three were pleasantly taken by surprise.
They had originally planned to immediately discuss the Seven Warlords of the Sea proposal with Crocodile, but since the food smelled this good, the Warlord business could wait.
"Let's eat!"
Raleigh was the first to dig in.
Amid casual exclamations of "Delicious!" and "So good!", the mountain of noodles quickly vanished into his stomach.
Watching the three completely ignore him to devour their food, Crocodile slowly let his guard down.
It seemed these three really were just here for a meal, not to cause him trouble. Having finished his own plate, Crocodile prepared to settle his bill and leave.
But the exact moment he stood up, he suddenly sensed a massive, suffocating presence standing directly behind him.
Clang!
Crocodile reacted with swiftness, drawing a hidden knife from his sleeve and slashing violently backward.
However, his fierce strike was effortlessly blocked by a rock-hard, Haki-coated fist.
Crocodile's pupils instantly dilated in shock.
'So fast!'
'Douglas Bullet? Wasn't he just eating at the table across the room a split second ago?!' Thoughts raced through Crocodile's mind, but they did not hinder his combat instincts.
Immediately, he activated his Logia powers.
His body dissolved into a swirling cloud of dry sand, effortlessly shifting away from Bullet's front and reforming in a far corner of the restaurant, putting distance between himself, Bullet, and the Marines.
Gripping his knife tightly, Crocodile glared at them, his expression dark.
"Gentlemen, it seems I have not offended you in any way."
Bullet just smirked and shrugged his massive shoulders without saying a word.
Seeing Bullet's dismissive reaction, Crocodile immediately understood the hierarchy in the room.
The one in charge of this trio wasn't the legendary Demon Heir—it was the lazy Navy man who was still slurping his noodles.
Raleigh swallowed the last bite of his seafood pasta, took a large, refreshing gulp of rum, and finally turned to look at the pirate.
"Hello, Crocodile," Raleigh said with a polite smile. "Though it is our first meeting and this is rather abrupt, we genuinely wish to communicate with you. Please forgive our rashness."
Hearing this, Crocodile's gloomy expression flickered with pure anger.
"You call this communication? If I had not reacted and attacked just now, Douglas Bullet's fist would have smashed my head into pieces the very next second!"
With a slightly regretful look, Raleigh leaned back in his chair.
"Crocodile, we are not just some random strays off the street. This is Douglas Bullet. If you cannot even withstand one casual strike from him, then you simply are not qualified to communicate with us."
Crocodile's expression grew even darker at those words.
The good news: they had not come here specifically to kill him.
The bad news: that smiling Navy man was clearly even stronger than Bullet!