Chapter 23: [23] The Oasis & The Desert (2)

Chapter 23: The Oasis & The Desert (2)

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Hashirama was guessing Sir Crocodile wouldn’t come alone, but at the same time, he wasn’t expecting the entire top dogs of the gang.

Sir Crocodile was an arrogant fellow as far as Hashirama could recall, so he expected him to make a rash decision here too. However, it seemed the last eight years have changed him somehow, allowing him to make more reasonable and cautious decisions.

‘Good for him.’ Hashirama noted. ‘Perhaps he will come out a better person after coming out of jail.’

Just when he finished thinking, the tree he was standing on got cut by Mr One. It began to fall down but rather than panicked Hashirama simply clasped his hands together, he used his chakra to shoot outwards his body in spikes to connect with the trees nearby; the trees that he had created a few years ago.

Being his creations, his babies, the trees instantly gave in and came under his control. One of the trees nearby extended its branch, elongating it in a split second, to catch him mid-air before he could fall on the ground. At the same time, the other trees went to strike the enemies below.

Seven enemies, two trees for each.

“What the fuck is this?!” yelled Miss Doublefinger, her body going all pointy and sharp when a tree came crashing on her.

Her plan must have been to minimize the damage by penetrating the tree, however it only made her get stuck in the wood as a result. She had the power to return to normal, of course, and she did exactly that a moment later. But that was all according to Hashirama’s expectations as the tree flung her up right in time for her to release herself and get sent flying to the other end of the forest.

In that part of the forest, another Hashirama—a wood clone—was located. As said before, Hashirama did expect Crocodile to bring more than one person at least, and so he had deployed clones around the forest expecting that, planning to separate them and deal with them one by one.

Only she was the one he successfully pulled this off with, though (along with the carriage driver, but he didn’t count).

The others, namely Mr One had severed multiple incoming trees to save himself and Mr Four from getting slammed. Of the other few, Miss Christmas Day who had eaten the Mole-Mole Fruit barely evaded two trees by digging into the ground.

Sir Crocodile alone used the sand he shredded earlier to make a wall that blocked his and Mr Two’s portion of trees.

When they finished blocking the trees, all happening in a split second or two, they once again began searching for Hashirama. The Baroque Works moved their heads from one side to another, forming a circle with their backs against each other, but they found no sign of Hashirama in the vicinity.

“By the way,” a voice spoke, making everyone snap their heads toward the direction it came from. But before anyone could run there with a roar, the same voice came from some other direction. “Why bring Mr Two here? I mean the clown-looking guy, he is Mr Two right?”

“It’s she, dear.” Mr Two corrected, making Crocodile’s face twitch while he kept looking around in search of Hashirama. “And you must be asking because I displayed no battle power? Well, I was not supposed to fight. I was supposed to use my powers to turn into your sister inside the city to lure you out!”

“Oh, okay, that makes more sense.” An understandable voice replied.

Mr Two blinked in surprise, turning to look at Crocodile. “Hey, boss, isn’t this boy pretty nice and understandin—”

“But,”

Suddenly, Mr Two felt a pull in his feet, and looking down he found a thick vine wrapping around his leg—that suddenly pulled him out of the circle, pulling him on the shadow of the bushes.

“How bold of you to have touched my sister!” yelled Hashirama, knowing that Mr Two’s powers needed him to touch the people he could take the face of.

Right on cue, Mr One moved to the direction where Mr Two was pulled towards, hoping that Hashirama was there as his voice came from there.

“Mr One, wait—” Crocodile yelled, but it was too late. The sound of struggle came from where those two people went before the sounds got distant and faded into silence.

Neither Mr One nor Mr Two called back or returned, but Crocodile was sure Mr One wasn’t taken out that easily so Hashirama must have pulled him somewhere else to deal with him alone.

‘Alone…?’ Sir Crocodile frowned. ‘How will he do that since he is but a lone boy- ah, I see.’

Sir Crocodile realized soon as things seemed to click into place.

* * *

“You are not alone here.” Crocodile announced his discovery out loud. “You expected us to come. Argh shit, it was All Sunday, wasn’t it? She betrayed me.”

Now only Sir Crocodile and Mister Four remained in their original position. Miss Merry Christmas was around somewhere underground. She had yet to come out though, perhaps hearing the danger upward and waiting for a perfect opportunity.

They were all on high alert, though the two beside Crocodile frowned when they heard that All Sunday had betrayed the organization.

“Perhaps,” Hashirama didn’t give a clear answer, making Crocodile think he was scheming another sneak attack.

“It only makes sense,” said Crocodile, on high alert as he looked around. “She has the power to create multiple mouths, vocal cords, that can talk. That explains how you are speaking in this manner, from different dimensions. It’s not Hashirama Senju to whom I am talking, am I? You are her, right? This wasn’t a smart decision, All Sunday.”

Only silence answered him before a slip of snort, followed by a laugh.

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“You are so paranoid, dude. Go—” the voice flow changed direction, moving up as it made Crocodile look up at the sky, where a young man jumped from a tree and began to fall downwards. “—See a doctor!”

He had large wooden gauntlets in his hands, his arms pulled back for a punch as he fell right towards Crocodile.

However, Mr Four stepped in between them. “I got this boss!” He yelled as he pointed his large gun at Hashirama’s falling form.

Mr Four’s gun wasn’t a normal gun. Named Lassoo, it was originally a gun, but "ate" the Dog-Dog Fruit, Model: Dachshund and became a dog-gun. It could shoot baseballs that weighed like cannonballs, and these balls were essentially bombs as well.

– Boom!

Mr Four fired his gun that had turned into a dog, causing a small ball to rush out of the dog’s mouth and rush at Hashirama’s form.

Hashirama’s concentration was perfect even as the ball came rushing, he slapped it with his hand, sending it flying down to the hole that Miss Merry Christmas had created and was surely hiding inside of. Given that ball was a bomb, just as Hashirama landed on his feet, it detonated as fire and smoke came out of the hole.

“Fool!” Sir Crocodile cursed Mr Four, though he had raised his arm in time to match the rushing Hashirama.

A loud bang went out as the large golden hook in Crocodile’s hand clashed with the wooden gauntlet in Hashirama’s hands.

Just when they clashed, with Mr Four taken off guard by the bomb a second ago, he missed the vines that came rushing from behind him and yanked him by the foot, taking him deep within the woods just like the others.

“What is happening?!” Crocodile asked with a yell as he pushed Hashirama far behind, clearly overpowering him on strength. “How are the vines moving on their own?! Answer me!”

Sir Crocodile rushed at Hashirama, his expression enraged, while Hashirama had a smile on his face. Hashirama prepared to clash again and punched Crocodile on his chest with the heavy and spikey wooden gauntlet he was wearing on his right hand.

Crocodile punched at the same time, but Hashirama dodged it swiftly, the hook barely scratching his chin though oddly no blood came out.

Hashirama’s punch connected, getting a solid hit—making Hashirama grin—before his hand passed through Crocodile’s body, the sand pushing outwards of his body. Hashirama frowned, pulling back his hand—but failing to do so as he watched the sand tightly grip his hand inside Crocodile’s chest.

“This is where it ends,” said Crocodile, his angry face melting to reveal a ‘Check-Mate’ smile. “Dry out.”

With those two words alone, Hashirama’s body jerked sharply as his skin suddenly lost its moisture at a terrible speed, his skin stuck to his bones in the next second as he rapidly began to die.

Three seconds later, his body became as dry as wood, before drying out further and turning into ash—sand that got blown away by the air.

“…A bit too easy?” Sir Crocodile’s chest returned back to normal as he asked himself, frowning. “Hah, and this was the kid that’s been messing me up for a decade.”

“That’s what I was saying too,” suddenly, Hashirama’s annoying voice sounded out again, making Crocodile’s eyes wide and his jaws clench as he looked around again. “Guess what, I may be immortal.”

Sir Crocodile growled, growling harder again before he grunted out a breath. “Annoying pest. I am putting a stop to your hide-and-seek right this instance.”

With a sharp release of breath, a flood of sand burst out from the foot of Sir Crocodile and spread in a circle. The sand immediately reached the trees and dried them off in a second. It all happened in the blink of an eye, as if an illusion, and the forest that was all green and beautiful suddenly went dry and dead in a large circular part of it in the middle.

“…How?”

However, Sir Crocodile couldn’t be less satisfied and more surprised.

As the forest dried out, the trees breaking down into dust particles, the clearing left multiple Hashirama wearing the same white shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

“Oh, look, we got exposed.” Said one of the Hashirama with an annoying smirk. “One of me sing a song, while the rest beat him up.”

With a swift whistle multiple Hashiramas—exactly 10, Crocodile counted—rushed at him. While Crocodile was stunned at first, he didn’t have any plan to hold back now that no ally was around and he had figured out Hashirama’s secret.

With an angry roar from Crocodile, the battle really began.

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