Smoker stood his ground in silence, staring straight at Crocodile.
Crocodile smiled, full of confidence—confidence only a Logia user could have.
"So?" Crocodile said. "You're not running? You really want to keep fighting pointlessly?"
Smoker answered with a punch.
He turned solid and threw a heavy fist straight at Crocodile's chest.
The punch passed through him like air.
Crocodile's body broke apart into sand and reformed a few steps away. At the same time, his leg stretched out and whipped toward Smoker.
Smoker turned into smoke and avoided it.
They moved again.
Smoker rushed in, swinging his fists again and again. He attacked from different angles, turning into smoke and back into solid form over and over.
Every hit failed.
Crocodile kept turning into sand, letting every attack pass through him.
Then Crocodile attacked back.
Sharp spikes of sand burst from the ground. Smoker jumped back and turned into smoke, but the wall of spikes still pushed him and sent him rolling.
Smoker stood up quickly and attacked again.
The two of them kept fighting.
Smoker couldn't touch Crocodile.
Crocodile couldn't land a clean hit either.
They clashed again and again, but nothing changed.
"Tch," Smoker clicked his tongue.
While moving, Smoker started looking around for something that could let him touch Crocodile.
What he was looking for was water.
But the sand here was dry, the ancient tomb walls were dry, and even the air felt dry.
There was no water anywhere.
Crocodile noticed Smoker's eyes moving around.
"Oh?" Crocodile said. "What's wrong? You keep looking everywhere. Did you lose something?"
Smoker didn't answer.
He rushed in again, throwing a kick toward Crocodile's head.
Crocodile let the kick pass through him and grabbed Smoker's leg while his body was solid.
Smoker instantly turned into smoke and slipped free.
They jumped apart.
Crocodile paused for a moment, then laughed.
"I see what you're doing," he said. "You're searching for water."
Smoker stopped for a second.
'Was I that obvious?'
Crocodile crossed his arms.
"So you really were looking for water," he said. "That means you know the weakness of the Sand-Sand Fruit."
He tilted his head slightly.
"How did you find out?" Crocodile asked. "Did the Marines investigate me?"
Smoker stayed silent. Crocodile raised his hand.
"Well, it doesn't matter how you know," he said. "It's true. If water touches me, I can't turn into sand to avoid attacks."
He looked around and laughed.
"But knowing that won't help you here. Go ahead—keep searching."
Crocodile slammed his foot into the ground. Waves of sand spread in every direction.
"This is a desert," he said. "Nothing exists here but dry sand."
His eyes dropped to Smoker's empty hands.
"And your seastone weapon is already buried under the sand." Crocodile laughed loudly.
"So tell me, Captain Smoker," he said. "How are you planning to beat me now?"
Smoker clicked his tongue.
'Damn it. I don't know Armament Haki. Without a water source or my seastone weapon, I can't hit him.'
'Should I use my blood like Luffy? No, that's dangerous. If I don't knock him out in one hit, he'll figure out my strategy and avoid me.'
'There's also a chance he grabs me when I touch him, and sucks all the moisture out of my body.'
Before Smoker could think any further, Crocodile attacked.
A huge wave of sand rushed toward him.
Smoker turned into smoke, but the force still scattered him. His body reformed roughly, and he dropped to one knee.
Crocodile was already there.
A sand-covered fist slammed into Smoker's stomach.
Smoker blocked it, but he still grunted and slid across the ground.
He stood up, breathing heavily. He had been using his power nonstop for hours, and the exhaustion was catching up to him.
Crocodile didn't give him time to rest.
They fought again.
Smoker attacked with everything he had. He moved faster, pushed harder, using smoke to strike from above and below.
Crocodile blocked or avoided every move. He countered each attack with ease.
Smoker's breathing grew rougher, his movements slowed down.
Crocodile, on the other hand, looked completely fine. Fighting in the desert only gave him more stamina.
"You're getting tired," Crocodile said. "I can see you losing your edge."
Smoker wiped his mouth.
"Shut up," he said, rushing in again.
Crocodile struck him with a heavy blow to the chest and sent him flying.
Smoker rolled across the sand and stopped himself, coughing.
Then—
**BOOM!**
A loud explosion shook the air.
Both of them stopped and turned their heads.
Black smoke rose in the distance. It was coming from Rainbase.
Smoker's eyes widened, and Crocodile laughed.
"That explosion came from Rainbase," he said. "That's where my Baroque Works is fighting your crew."
Smoker clenched his fists.
"Do you think your crew can survive a battle like that?" Crocodile asked.
He stepped closer.
"Your crew will be wiped out," he said. "And you'll fall here from exhaustion."
Smoker's chest burned with anger as he struggled to stand.
Crocodile smiled coldly.
"You're out of options," he said. "You simply can't touch me."
"So your future ends here."
Smoker stared at him through the smoke.
Time was running out.
'Maybe I really have to gamble with my own blood. Is hurting myself the only option I have left?'