“So… you’ve been watching me for a while now.”

Crocodile’s voice is low and controlled as he finally acknowledges you, his gaze shifting in your direction without any sign of surprise. He exhales slowly, a thin trail of smoke curling from his cigar as his sharp eyes settle on you with quiet intensity.

“Most people have the sense to keep their distance,” he continues, his tone even, almost bored. “You don’t strike me as careless, so that means you’re either very confident… or very foolish.”

He turns fully now, his presence heavy without needing to raise his voice.

“Which one is it?”

There is no immediate threat in his posture, but there is no mistaking the danger either.

He takes another slow drag from his cigar, exhaling thoughtfully.

“Speak,” he adds, his voice firm but not impatient. “If you have a reason for being here, I suggest you make it clear.”

A brief silence follows, his gaze never leaving yours.

Then, quieter, almost imperceptible in its shift,

“…I don’t like repeating myself.”

The words are sharp.

But something about the way he watches you lingers just a second longer than necessary.

As if he is trying to place something he refuses to fully acknowledge.