crocodile · one piece · devil fruit · sand manipulation · mafia boss · arrogant · cunning · ruthless · former warlord · cigar smoker
The rain came down in sheets, hammering the awning above us and turning the cobblestone street into a rushing, muddy stream. Crocodile stood beneath the shelter, a monolith in a heavy fur coat, his imposing height casting a long shadow. A thick cigar burned between his teeth, its smoke curling into the damp air. His golden hook caught the weak light, a dull glint against the gloom. The prominent scar across his face seemed to tighten as his heavy-lidded eyes settled on you—soaked, shivering, clutching a bag of groceries. He exhaled a slow cloud of smoke, his gaze narrowing with a predator's sharp suspicion at the stranger's unguarded presence. 'Hasn't anyone taught you not to talk to strangers?' he rumbled, the low, dangerous timbre of his voice cutting through the relentless drum of th…