At Marine Headquarters, Fleet Admiral Sengoku frowned as he put down his Den Den Mushi. Doubt filled his mind as he muttered to himself, "Why can't we make contact with Impel Down? Even with a fierce battle raging, the communications crew wouldn't all be engaged in combat, would they?"
Just then, Rob Lucci knocked and entered.
Reporting, he said, "Roya and his group have reached the third underground level and are locked in a fierce battle with the prison-beast troops led by Saldeath."
"But it seems Roya himself, for reasons unknown, isn't intervening directly."
"He's just allowing Squard and McGuy to fight the four prison beasts."
"So far, the situation remains at a standstill."
Sengoku nodded slightly. "It seems Roya is deliberately stalling—he doesn't want to be involved in the final showdown against Whitebeard."
Lucci nodded in agreement. "That seems to be the case indeed."
As he turned to leave, Sengoku suddenly asked, "Why can't anyone reach Impel Down, yet you continue to receive updates from there?"
Turning back, Lucci responded with a confident smile, "Because I'm the CP System's top agent, Admiral!"
Sengoku paused briefly before waving Lucci off. When Lucci left, Sengoku picked up the Den Den Mushi again and dialed another number.
A low, hoarse voice answered: "Whitebeard's fleet has set sail—his elite are all aboard the Moby Dick. They're preparing to submerge from the ocean floor using the bubble technique!"
Hearing this, Sengoku finally relaxed. "The execution is less than a day away. At Roya's current pace, there's no way he'll make it in time for that massive battle."
---
In the sixth level of Impel Down, Buggy stumbled and fell at the base of the stairwell.
"Lord Roya! The stairs have been sealed off by Magellan's poison!"
Buggy wailed in terror. Looking up, he saw a massive sand-and-wind tornado, wide enough to encompass several men, whipping violently between floor and ceiling—bearing straight for Roya.
"The King of the Desert!"
Buggy screamed, scattered into pieces once more, and lay motionless—playing dead.
Despite the tornado's onslaught, Roya remained utterly calm. He glanced at Shiryū, who stood firm with his sword, and said: "Aren't you going to step in?"
Shiryū's cigar trembled as he snapped angrily, "Only after I've defeated Crocodile, kid!"
Roya shrugged. "You said you'd breach Impel Down in an hour. Having you guys come up one-by-one is wasting my time."
He continued with a smirk, "Well, it's fine for now—plenty of time left, maybe thirty more minutes."
With that, he raised his left hand as if fanning the air.
The tornado suddenly sputtered, collapsing into a heap of harmless sand on the floor. The strange power of the Suna Suna Devil Fruit dissolved into thin air.
The Empress's tension snapped as she realized it was safest to stay right beside Roya—rather than being caught in the center of this relentless attack.
Suddenly, a "clack" rang out. Shiryū's sword sheath scraped the ground as he shifted it slightly.
Crocodile's mocking grin froze instantly.
He glanced at Magellan, whose face had turned grim. Crocodile's heart sank.
Without time to figure out why his move failed, Crocodile roared and launched again. "Suna Suna Diamond Sword!"
His arms stretched to their maximum, transforming into four massive sand blades that slashed at Roya from all four directions in a cross formation.
Roya furrowed his brow slightly. He sighed, "Honestly, I really hate sand."
He threw up his hand, and a one-and-a-half-foot-high sand-and-wind tornado appeared. With a flick, he sent it soaring forward, expanding to four or five meters in seconds.
The tornado's powerful pull instantly drew in Crocodile's four sand blades—and Crocodile himself.
"Why—why is this happening? He's using Suna Suna too?"
"Had I cared about dryness, I would've been drained and absorbed into that tornado!"
Though stunned, Crocodile pushed himself to fight on. He roared again, adjusting inside the vortex, and launched a torrent of sand to the ground.
The sand lashed out toward Roya in sharp, slashing arcs—but Roya planted his foot firmly, creating a shockwave that sent the sand blades scattering back to the ground.
Simultaneously, the tornado lost its momentum.
Crocodile collapsed to the ground, unable to stand. His skin looked slashed clean through, with not a patch untouched—even the Scorpion Needle on his left arm was scarred to near destruction.
Shiryū's cold arrogance dropped away, replaced with heavy concern. "Is this… some ability that can replicate an opponent's moves? He used a sand tornado to neutralize the Suna Suna diamond sword, then released the giant desert blade through the tornado to attack Crocodile's true body!"
"What did he use to counter my Desert Greatblade strike?"
As he pondered, Roya turned toward him and smiled faintly. "If you can't figure it out—how about I let you experience it yourself?"
Shiryū, infuriated by the provocation, spat out his cigar with a sharp "phfft!" A spark flew off and streaked toward Roya's face like a meteor.
Roya scrunched his mouth disdainfully. "A loser's only got petty little tricks like that."
Without visible movement, the cigar butt, still blazing, shot back at Shiryū at several times its incoming speed.
Too slow to dodge, Shiryū was struck cleanly in the face. Only his quick reflexes—closing his mouth just in time—kept it from going inside... and the burning end might already be inside!
Silence descended on the small square. Magellan's pupils narrowed to slits as he stared intensely at Roya.
Even ramping up his Observation Haki to the extreme, he couldn't find a way to break through Roya's defense or counterattacks.
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