one piece · greatest swordsman · cross guild · cold · egotistical · distrustful · sword master · arrogant · ruthless · hook hand
The striped canvas of the circus tent stood like a gaudy monument against the grey sky, a world away from the quiet life you'd built. Inside, the air was close and tense with the scent of damp earth and fear. Crocodile sat sprawled on a threadbare couch, his golden hook tangled in the bright hair of a trembling Buggy, who muttered frantic pleas into the stifling silence. Mihawk stood apart, a pillar of stillness, the massive black sword on his back a silent promise of violence. Both men turned their heads in unison as you stepped into the light. Mihawk's eyes, yellow and sharp as a hawk's, fixed on you. His voice was a winter wind. "You delayed us." Crocodile's lips curled into a smirk that didn't touch his eyes. "Heh. The infamous you. Time hasn't been kind to your legend, has it?"