The poisonous sand instantly completely enveloped Crockdahl, and before the sand approached, the strange smell that came out made Crockdahl feel trance for a moment. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info and in this trance, sand has already fallen on Crokedahl's body.

With a snort, Crockdahl's coat was corroded by the sand and several holes, and the green smoke from it woke Crockdahl awake.

Hurriedly activating the fruit's ability, Crockdahl easily gained control of the sand, and then threw the poisonous sand to the ground aside.

The poisonous sand only erupted by the power of the mechanism, although it was very corrosive, it could not escape the essence of the sand, and it was naturally easily controlled by Crockdahl, but even so, Crockdahl still had lingering palpitations.

The smell of poisonous sand proves that the sand is not very toxic. Even if he doesn't have any defense, if he is contaminated with poisonous sand, he will shed his skin if he doesn't die.

With a soft sound of "......", the ground instantly sank a little, and a pungent green smoke came out, as if it was facing Crockdahl's own strength.

"Is it poisonous sand? the poison is still so strong, hahaha, it seems that today is really my lucky day!" Crockdahl happily opened the sleeve of the hook in his left hand, and under the control of his ability, the poisonous sand milk swallow returned to the nest and threw it into the hook cast of stainless steel.

This hook was specially made by Crockdahl, especially with corrosion-resistant materials. The steel hook has many holes in it, like a beehive. There was a viscous blue-purple liquid flowing through the hole, the venom of the scorpion he had painstakingly collected from the desert.

"This sand is soaked in scorpion venom, I believe it will be even stronger, right?"

Unable to hide the joy in his heart, the hook on his wrist was covered in poisonous sand, and completely turned into a pure black color, as if absorbing all the light around him, reflecting only the purest death.

After putting away the windfall, Crockdahl returned his attention to the box. The owner of the crate may have thought that the poison sand mechanism was sufficient, and did not bury any other mechanism.

Not as full of treasure as expected, this chest is large, but there are not many things in the box. All it was was a strange set of clothes, two delicate knives that looked like works of art, a small box, and a book.

The dress was wide, like a heavy trench coat. The clothes were large, not like those worn by ordinary humans, but like those worn by giants, but they did not reach the tall size of giants. And the style of the clothes is a bit strange, although the style looks like a typical robe, but there are short metal pieces all over the clothes, side by side like fish fins. And there are sharp metal thorns in the placket, hem of the robe and other places. Even though I don't know how many years it has been stored here, the metal thorns have not been rusted in the slightest.

It looks like it's a combat suit, and judging from its appearance alone, the person wearing it is covered in thorns. However, although Crockdahl, who is nearly 3 meters tall, can wear it, for Crockdahl, who is not good at close combat, this dress is completely suspicious.

Putting his clothes aside and leaning down, Crockdahl's attention turned to the book.

To say that it is a book may be a bit far-fetched, more like a very thick book. The cover of the book is made of unknown animal skins, perhaps because of the vicissitudes of time, there have been many damages, revealing the wooden hard shell under the skin.

Crockdahl carefully opened the book, this thing that has been baptized by the years, is likely to fall apart completely if you are not careful. As soon as the book was opened, there was a sense of antiquity coming to my face, and the yellowed pages seemed to tell the history. It is not an exaggeration to say that the book is a logbook, or a diary.

In addition to the records of their voyages, there are also charts of the voyages they have sailed. And without exception, at the end of each page, the signature is the same - Tagore.

Sure enough, this is the last place of the guy known as the greatest fishman, the leader of the Sun Pirates, and the fishman Tagore. For this guy who once broke into the naval shrine alone and rescued the fishmen and thousands of slaves, Crockdahl can only say that he is really sorry for his name.

For those charts, which are likely to be contested by many, Crockdahl simply skipped them. These things can be studied later when he has time, and now he pays more attention to the things that are logged, especially after Tagore's fake death. Thinking about it, Crockdahl flipped the log straight to the end.

Surrounded by the Navy and then died under the gun?

Hehe, Crockdahl never believed that a strong man who could face the admiral of the Navy Headquarters would die so easily. And the facts proved that his guess was correct.

"I see, it's interesting......" Fingers gently rubbed the page, fingers felt the marks left on the paper because of the force, Crockdahl smiled again, "Today, it's really my lucky day!"

The two knives in the box were also good things, they seemed to be a pair, magnetic to each other, and the other would come out of the sheath when one was pulled out, but when Krokodahl pulled it out, he was a little disappointed. There was only a small part of the two knives left, and the rest of the knives were already shattered piece by piece, as if they could not withstand the tremendous force and shattered.

The last remaining box was empty, with only a small note labeled the name of the original item: Metal Fruit, Number 013.

"Tut-tut~ The fish-man who Tagore would rather die than protect, is it the same as that mermaid princess, is it royal?" Crockdahl thought about what was recorded in the journal, Tagore would rather fight to be seriously injured and fake his death than to protect the fish-man......

But it's a pity that it's a devil fruit, and it seems to be natural. The fact that this island has become like this has absolutely nothing to do with the ability of this fruit.

Nothing else was found in the cave, and Crockdahl took everything into the box, whether it was useful or not, and then put it on his shoulder and turned away.

Coming out of the cave, Crockdahl continued his search. But I don't know if it was luck and I didn't find anything, but I returned to the place where I went ashore. There, Daz was meditating cross-legged, and he was tilted aside by his ** iron pimple Jizo statue.

"Today's weather is good, hahaha~" Crockdahl snorted, walked over, sat down next to Daz, and said, "How's it going, where's the food?"

"Sorry, Lord Crockdahl, I didn't find anything edible down there. Daz said with a stern face, with the urge to blame himself for not completing the task.

"Well~ Forget it, you won't starve to death if you don't eat a meal. Crockdahl waved his hand indifferently and said to Daz.

"Hey, it's boring. Crockdahl lay down on the beach, looking bored at the sky, and suddenly felt the urge not to get up. This time is too tiring, not at all like the original him, it is good to get a short period of peace.

"Take a break, I'll get up tomorrow and we'll be on my way." Crockdahl wrapped himself in his coat and fell asleep on his side. After a while, a thin snoring came out, the rhythm was smooth, and the breath was even.

Daz Bonis didn't know if he had listened to Crockdahl's words, and his breathing became heavier as he meditated.

The sky is getting darker, the sun is setting, and the bright moonlight has become the main color here. Because there are no clouds, there are many stars at night, and the beach is shining with silver glow with starlight and moon shadows.

"Crunch......" There was a sound of sand squeezing, and in the moonlight, a black figure jumped nimbly in the metal jungle and came to the beach. No matter how careful he was, no matter how gentle he walked, he couldn't stop the sound of stepping on the sand, especially when the sand was metalized, and the night was unusually quiet, making the sound even louder.

The black shadow seemed to be tempting, appeared several times, and then disappeared again, and found that the two of Crockdahl were indeed asleep, so he put his mind at ease, took a big step, and walked towards the boat parked on the beach. When they arrived at the boat, the black shadow seemed to be quite happy, constantly jumping up and down, circling the boat. After a few more muttering words, he bowed in the direction of the sleeping Crockdahl, then picked up the boat and walked in the direction of the sea.

At this time, Crockdahl, who should have been asleep, opened his eyes slightly, and a playful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

The black shadow grabbed the boat, as if grasping a leaf, and carried it easily to the sea. But after a few steps, it seemed that it was uncomfortable to carry it, so he put the boat on his head and continued to walk towards the sea. Although the boat was as light as nothing in his hands, its quality was real, and every step the shadow took left a deep footprint on the ground. Unlike the appearance of human footprints, the footprints left by the black shadow seem to be connected to the toes.

Approaching the seashore, the shadow seemed excited, but resisted not to alarm Crockdahl. At that moment, he quickened the pace of progress and took a big step towards the sea. Maybe he was a little anxious when he was running, and he slipped under his feet and fell to the ground with the boat. He shook his head, and when he looked up again, he found that Crockdahl was already standing in front of him and watching him, with a cigar in his mouth.

Slightly panicked, screaming in some unknown language, the black shadow turned and ran backwards, but was blocked by Daz. I could only stop helplessly.

"Hehe, as I expected. Crockdahl smoked a cigarette and looked at the owner of the dark shadow with satisfaction, a look of surprise on his face.