Crocodile's eyes widened in disbelief from his prison. "Unbelievable, you're telling the truth! You're not a Devil Fruit user? How is that even possible?"
He studied the bald man in front of him with a newfound interest. "So, it's true. There are powerful men on the sea who rely solely on their own strength and skill, rather than the crutch of Devil Fruits. It takes great willpower to resist such a temptation, especially considering the potential strength you could have gained from consuming one. I must say, I'm impressed. Should I call you foolish or commend your fortitude, monster!"
Saitama raised his right index finger, his gaze unwavering. "Neither human experimentation, Cyborgization, nor Devil Fruits can be trusted. Never underestimate the innate potential of human beings, Mr. Crocodile," he declared with conviction.
Crocodile let out a sly chuckle. "Hehe, you're quite confident, aren't you? Unfortunately, it won't last long," he taunted.
But before he could finish his sentence, a thunderous crash reverberated through the chamber.
The air filled with the sound of shattering glass as a colossal aquarium near Crocodile exploded into fragments.
From the chaos emerged a towering Bananagator, its massive form thrashing and causing water to cascade in all directions. With its gaze fixed on his boss, the beast surged forward with terrifying speed.
The once-unyielding Seastone cage that had held Crocodile captive proved feeble in the face of the Bananagator's raw power.
In a bone-shattering impact, the cage crumbled, granting Crocodile freedom. His lips curled into a menacing grin as he relished the taste of liberation.
"Hehehehe..." he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous fervor.
Suddenly, a burst of sand erupted from Crocodile's body, engulfing the area in a dense cloud of dust that obscured the view. Through the haze, his twisted and maniacal face could be seen contorted in glee.
"What do you think, Vice Admiral? Behold the power of the strongest natural Devil Fruit in the world, the 'Sand-Sand Fruit'! In this kingdom, I am a god who can never be defeated!" he boasted
The sandstorm grew more intense, as if fueled by his arrogance and determination. More sand spewed forth from his body, burying everything in its path.
Crocodile gathered the sand in his hand, molding it into a razor-sharp blade that he hurled towards Saitama with blinding speed.
"Die! Desert Spada!" he yelled, confident that he had finally found a way to defeat his opponent.
"The sand blade from before was merely a diversion. A knife of that caliber would hardly be enough to sever someone like you. However, with the use of my other ability, things will become much more interesting, ha-ha-ha-ha..."
Saitama showed no reaction to Crocodile's roars. He blinked lazily, stifling a yawn. "Ah, you got me," he said in a nonchalant tone.
"You impudent fool...your words grate on my nerves!" Crocodile's forehead veins pulsed with fury. "I will drain every last drop of moisture from your body and leave you a dried-out husk. Behold the might of the Desert Poison!"
As the devil fruit's power surged through his veins, Crocodile transformed into a pile of dry sand, ready to absorb any moisture he could find.
He lunged towards Saitama, thinking he had the upper hand with his unbeatable ability. He relentlessly sought to drain Saitama of his life-sustaining moisture.
Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, it didn't take long for Crocodile to realize, his eyes widening with mounting terror.
His once invincible ability, honed through countless victories, had utterly failed against Saitama's seemingly impervious body.
Saitama, with his gleaming bald head, stood before him like an enigmatic vortex, an immovable force of nature. There were no weak spots to exploit, no imperfections to seize upon. It was as if he defied the laws of reality itself, shrugging off any external interference.
"Damn it," Crocodile gritted his teeth in frustration. "How could this be possible?"
"I am... the god of this desert," Crocodile proclaimed, desperately clinging to his shattered confidence, but deep down, he knew it was a hollow threat. He had never felt so powerless in his life.
Saitama looked at him with a bemused expression on his face. "God of the desert, huh? That's a new one."
Crocodile, had always prided himself on his power and control over the elements. But now, as he faced off against the enigmatic Saitama, he felt a growing sense of unease.
Frustrated by his own weakness, he attempted to mask it with anger.
Conjuring a tempest of swirling sand, his hands transformed into four colossal sand blades, slashing ferociously toward Saitama. "You think you can defeat me? I am the god of this desert, and nothing can stand in my way!"
Saitama merely shrugged, his expression unchanged. "I don't care about gods or devils. I'm just here to stop you."
"Desert Spada!"
In an instant, Crocodile lunged forward, his sand blades whistling through the air. The force of his attack was enough to level an entire city, but Saitama stood his ground, unmoving.
With a single punch, Saitama shattered the Sandstorm, unleashing a devastating shockwave that sent Crocodile hurtling through the walls like a mere rag doll.
As the sandstorm subsided, moonlight streamed through the shattered wall, casting a heroic glow upon Saitama.
For Crocodile, it's the first time in his life, he felt fear. He had always been used to getting his way, using his powers to dominate and control those around him. But now, faced with someone who was truly invincible, he realized that he had been living a lie all along.
"It's frustrating, I thought I finally met a strong opponent," Saitama grumbled, scratching his bald head in disappointment. "But it looks like I was wrong...again!" He chuckled as he watched the soaring body. "You were about as tough as a soggy noodle, my friend. Even Genos or Tashigi could've taken you down!"
Turning away, Saitama's gaze fell upon the massive Bananagator that had moments ago been bellowing its support for the fallen villain.
"And as for you, my big yellow friend... hmmm, what to do?" he pondered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I've never tasted Bananagator before...I wonder what it looks like!"
The creature froze in terror at the thought of being devoured by the bald-headed man.
Without waiting for the him to make a move, the beast frantically scrambled and wriggled its way back into the confines of its aquarium. It even managed to find a random strip of adhesive tape to seal the opening, cowering inside and quivering in fear.
Although it was just a low-intelligence beast, it knew what kind of monster this bald guy was and when to wave the white flag!
After observing for a while, Saitama decided to spare it. "No need! Actually, you don't look appetizing," he remarked.
Brushing off the sand from his body, he turned around and headed towards the exit of the secret room. But then it dawned on him that Robin was nowhere to be found; she had made a swift escape, leaving behind a servant with his joints twisted in peculiar angles.
"Ah..." Saitama let out a sigh as he glanced around the now-empty room. "She's gone too!" he mused quietly to himself.
His eyes blinked in a momentary flicker, dismissing the situation with casual indifference.
It mattered little to him whether she sought escape or harbored ulterior motives.
They were never particularly close, rendering her actions inconsequential in his eyes.
In the grand scheme of things, his focus lay elsewhere, beckoning him to attend to more pressing matters.
He strolled across the hallway, his steps purposeful and resolute, until he reached the opposite end.
With a determined push, the door swung open, granting him entrance to a room pulsating with anticipation.
Inside, the high-ranking executives shifted restlessly, their patience waning with every passing second.
"Come on!" Mr. 2 slouched in his chair, feeling utterly bored. His gaze locked onto Saitama, who had just stepped into the room, and he barked, "Hey, you! Baldy-Cape, where the hell is the boss? He said he'd be here any minute now."
Although the other high-ranking members remained silent, their puzzled expressions revealed their shared confusion.
Saitama paused, considering his words, before taking a seat at the head of the table, which had originally been reserved for Crocodile.
"Gentlemen," he began, "it's time to disband."
"Disbanding?... What on earth does that mean?" The group of agents stood bewildered, as if they had misheard their orders.
They had been summoned in great haste, with the promise of a major operation, and now they were being dismissed before even getting started!
The sudden turn of events created an air of confusion and chaos.
"What's happening... where's the boss?" Mr.1 asked, breaking the uneasy silence.
"Where's Miss All Sunday?..." Mr.2 answered with a note of concern.
"But didn't they say the boss would come to see us later?" Miss Merry Christmas questioned with a glimmer of hope in her voice.
"It had to be a prank, or perhaps the boss was testing us to gauge our loyalty." murmured Mr.4, his voice barely audible.
"..."
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As the group engaged in a lengthy discussion, Paula's mind suddenly snapped back to reality.
It was as if a light bulb had illuminated above her head, revealing a newfound understanding.
With a look of epiphany, she turned her gaze towards Saitama.
"Wait a moment!"
Paula swiftly rose from her seat, her eyes fixed on Saitama. "I knew it! You must be our boss, Ms. Saitama!"
A moment of confusion passed over the faces of the others, swiftly replaced by comprehension.
"Of course!" Mr. 2 exclaimed, his surprise evident in his voice. "It's all so clear now! You have the strength of a true boss, and you even arrived fashionably late like a boss!"
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