At last, it was over.

Crocodile frowned as he stared at the massive beast sprawled across the ground.

At the end of the Whale Spine Road, he too had discovered the murals—and only then realized that he was not inside Davy Jones’ Locker, but within a spire that had sunk to the bottom of the sea.

That meant Davy Jones’ crew must have gone deeper into the spire.

If given the choice, Crocodile would rather avoid venturing into the upper layers of the spire. Not only was there the risk of running into Davy Jones’ men, but also of being attacked by the monsters depicted on the murals.

But if he wanted to escape this place quickly, he had no choice but to gather the three keys and leave from the top of the spire. Otherwise, he would either end up captured by Davy Jones’ crew or drown in the sea.

After all, he was a man who had bided his time for over twenty years with grand ambition. He quickly calmed himself, made up his mind, and stepped into the cave on the far right side of the spire.

As expected, along the way he encountered numerous bizarre monsters. More importantly, these creatures possessed abilities that defied common sense—much like his own Devil Fruit powers.

At first, his progress was smooth enough—until he came across the monster before him now.

When Crocodile first entered the cave, he saw a massive white shell of bone resting on the ground, riddled with rows of holes.

Thinking the place safe, he had just been about to pass when the “shell” suddenly stirred to life. Four slender legs, sharp as mantis scythes, shot out as the creature reared upright.

“Another monster…” Crocodile muttered, realizing this was no shell at all but a beast dwelling within it, much like a hermit crab.

It was one of the spire’s creatures—Lagavulin. Comparable in tier to the flame-less Hobgoblin Brutes of the first layer, but with a different ability altogether.

Lagavulin always lay in wait like this, ambushing prey that drew near. Since Crocodile had wandered into its hunting range, there was no way it would let him go.

Thus began a battle of man versus beast within the cave.

Logically speaking, as one of the Seven Warlords, Crocodile should not have struggled so much against a Lagavulin.

Yet as the fight dragged on, he realized something was being continually siphoned from him. His attacks weakened, his defenses dulled—the monster was draining his strength.

In the end, it was only when Crocodile unleashed his full power—burying the cave in a raging sandstorm—that he managed to bring the beast down.

Any longer, and he might truly have ended up its next meal.

Still, the aftermath left him winded. He collapsed onto the ground to catch his breath.

Looking down, he saw the wound he had bound with bandages had torn open again, blood seeping fresh and red.

When he finally rose to leave, his eyes caught a glimmer from within the shattered remains of Lagavulin’s bone shell: a black crystal stone.

He picked it up—it was an amulet, a black stone threaded on a chain. Turning it over and over in his hand, he found nothing remarkable about it and tossed it aside.

But before he could leave, footsteps echoed.

Appearing before him was a man in a domed hat—accompanied by two others and a bear.

All three, and even the bear, were wounded to varying degrees—no doubt from battling the spire’s monsters.

“Crocodile?” Law narrowed his eyes, recognizing the man. But why was a Warlord of the Sea here?

Crocodile, on the other hand, did not know them. His gaze swept over the group, weighing whether they were enemies or allies.

Meanwhile, Davy Jones’ crew had found a staircase leading upward. From here, they could enter the second layer.

They hastily dressed their burns and wounds before ascending the spiral staircase.

All the while, Buggy kept fiddling with the Poneglyph stone, still unable to discern its use.

After about fifteen minutes of climbing, they emerged at a protruding platform.

From there, they overlooked a ruined, ashen city—its houses scattered like stars, lifeless and desolate, not a single soul in sight.

A staircase descended from the platform. They filed down and reached the outskirts of the dead city.

“Scout the area,” Davy Jones ordered. “Two or three in a group, and don’t let the groups stray too far apart.”

Of course, this rule did not apply to him.

With five crewmates, they split quickly. The men’s team—Kuro, Buggy, and Hachi. The women’s team—Alvida and Mikita.

Each group took one side of the main street, searching house by house.

Davy Jones himself strode down the center, unfazed.

The tedious, methodical search dragged on for five or six minutes—until a sudden commotion broke out.

Crash!

Alvida burst through a window, clutching Mikita as they tumbled across the ground in a desperate roll before stopping.

From the shattered house loomed the reason for their panic: a massive turquoise serpent, its eerie eyes brimming with a cold that froze the heart.

Hearing the noise, Kuro, Buggy, and Hachi rushed over.

Alvida lowered her head, pressing her hand over Mikita’s eyes, and shouted a warning to the others:

“Don’t look into its eyes! It showed Mikita illusions—made her do insane, reckless things!”

Illusions?

Only then did the others notice Mikita trembling violently in Alvida’s arms. It was only after her eyes had been covered for a while that she calmed down.

The crew quickly avoided the serpent’s gaze.

But by then, it had already forced its way through the house, shattering the wall entirely.

Its red tongue flickered as its massive body revealed two thick hind legs beneath its coils—an unsettling sight.

“I’ll take this one!”

Buggy whipped out the golden round shield slung across his back, raising it in front of him. It both blocked his vision and provided cover for gunfire.

A burst of bullets rattled from behind the shield—but the serpent lashed its tail with terrifying agility, deflecting them all. Its scales were so tough that even those bullets that struck did no harm.

“Tch.” Buggy scowled at the sound, not daring to peek. He braced behind his shield.

The serpent charged, two legs pounding the ground as it leapt upon him.

With a crushing stomp, it pinned both Buggy and shield beneath its bulk, jaws opening wide to bare venomous fangs.

Buggy abandoned the shield, splitting his body apart and flying free.

At that moment, Kuro seized the opening. Using Soru, he closed in at blistering speed. Eyes shut, relying only on memory, he thrust out his Ten-Blade Claws—piercing straight through one of the serpent’s eyes.

The monster shrieked, thrashing wildly, spewing turquoise venom as its jaws snapped at the air.

Half its menace was gone.

Hachi charged with six swords in hand.

As Kuro leapt past the serpent, he spun and rejoined Hachi, the two attacking in tandem from front and back.

Slash!

Kuro vaulted onto its back, driving his claws into its other eye.

Meanwhile, Hachi’s blades—Scythefand and Hanashū—tore into its belly, ripping out its organs.

The two pulled free their weapons and retreated, though it was hardly necessary anymore.

With a thunderous crash, the serpent toppled sideways, lifeless.

The sudden battle was over.

Buggy’s torso rejoined his legs as he lifted the golden shield off himself.

Alvida helped Mikita to her feet.

Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“That snake was a real pain. Just like that big red brute,” Buggy muttered, referring to the Hobgoblin Brute from the first layer. “But it’s probably the same as before—there should only be one of these.”

No sooner had he said this than an eerie rustle spread from both sides of the street.

One after another, identical serpent heads emerged from the surrounding houses, flicking greedy tongues in their direction.

Buggy slapped himself hard across the face and swallowed.

“This dead city… don’t tell me the only ‘residents’ left here are these giant green snakes?”

He nearly slapped himself again—because now, from above, came flocks of long-necked carrion birds. They circled like vultures, shrieking as they waited for the clash between Davy Jones’ crew and the serpents—ready to feast on the losers’ flesh.

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