One Piece: Chopping Ace Back to Foosha Village at the Start

"Hey, stop crying, will you? Look I'm fine."

A thin veil of black Armament coated Wayne's skin; the swirling sand blades could not penetrate the hardened layer.

"Armament Haki!"

Crocodile frowned. He had not expected to meet a Haki‑trained fighter in the first half of the Grand Line least of all on his turf.

A troublesome boy, he thought.

Seeing no real profit in an extended clash, Crocodile lowered his hook.

"Get lost, kid. I'm not in the mood to fight you."

Wayne raised an eyebrow. "That woman still owes me eighty million. If you hurt her now, who'll pay me back?"

"So you intend to shield her?"

"Exactly. She's under my protection."

Sand erupted around Crocodile. "Then pay the price!"

The Warlord blurred forward in a scything wave of grit. Wayne stepped in, blade flashing, and the alley rang with steel on golden hook. After a brief exchange they separated, each measuring the other.

"Not bad." Wayne's sword tip traced a lazy circle. Crocodile's coat now bore a deep cut; blood stained the fabric before freezing into rust‑colored sand.

He can wound me even here in the desert, Crocodile mused. Better to end this quickly.

"Your name," he demanded. "You're no nameless stray."

"Duraki D. Wayne," the swordsman answered. "Remember it one day it will echo across the seas."

Crocodile snorted, then melted into sand, scooped up the unconscious Daz Bonez, and withdrew.

"Whew…" Wayne exhaled. Without water or seastone he could not be certain of victory; best to let the Warlord leave.

He watched the retreating cyclone. Crocodile clearly possessed Observation Haki and a rudimentary Armament, but little else. Next time, Wayne vowed, I'll be stronger.

Turning back, he found Robin inching away.

"Where do you think you're going? You still owe me eighty million."

Robin's eyes darted. "I… don't have that much. But this face" she tapped her cheek with a wry smile "is worth seventy‑nine million. Take me in instead."

Wayne stroked his chin. "Seventy‑nine isn't eighty, but I suppose it'll do."

Robin stiffened. Was he really going to hand her to the Marines?

"But," Wayne continued, "I've just started a company and need staff. You can work off the difference. Congratulations you're hired as a… general assistant."

Robin blinked. "Do you realize what you're risking? Harboring the 'Devil's Child' means unending pursuit by the World Government."

Wayne bent, flicked mud from her hat, and grinned. "Look at you what devil? Just a beautiful girl. The Marines slap labels on anyone they fear."

She weighed his words. Strength, reliability… and admittedly, a handsome smile. Where else could she go?

"All right, boss," she said at last. "What does your company actually do?"

"Do? Hmm. Haven't decided yet. Finding our business model will be your first assignment."

Robin sighed behind her hand. "An unreliable employer indeed."

"Less talk, more strategy, Miss Assistant."

She tried once more. "At least tell me your dream. Every captain has one."

Wayne's gaze drifted to the desert sky. He thought of Rouge, of Rayleigh, of Ace far away in the East Blue.

"My dream," he said softly, "is to protect every person who matters to me."

Robin stared. Then, almost shyly, she smiled.

"A magnificent dream. Someday… I'd like to become someone who matters to you, too."