One Piece: Davy Jones, Captain of the Terror Ghost

Chapter 202 202: Creating and Seizing Opportunities in Motion

The scattered "Buggies" confirmed that Count Rooster was truly dead — this time there would be no further evolution. Only then did they release him and begin reassembling their own body parts.

"Hey, Porche — where are my legs?"

Porche tossed the pair of feet toward him, then clapped her hands clean, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Try washing them once in a while, Buggy. The smell's… beyond description."

"Who're you calling smelly—"

Porche rapped him on the head with her fist, cutting him off before he could change the subject.

Buggy rubbed the swelling lump on his skull, glaring at her indignantly.

Meanwhile, Perona's ghostly form drifted back into her physical body. She hurried over, exhaling in relief when she saw that Count Rooster had finally fallen.

"The subordinates of Big Mom really are something else… Their combat experience is on a whole different level. He found our weaknesses almost instantly."

Buggy and Porche nodded in deep agreement.

Just then, a low humming filled the air. They turned toward the sound — and saw an enormous dome-shaped field expanding outward.

"ROOM!"

It was the shout of the "Surgeon of Death" — Trafalgar Law.

Within the "Operation Room," everything turned chaotic.

Perona grew tense.

"Should we help?"

"Wait a bit longer," Porche replied. "If we barge in now, we'll just make things harder for Law."

Snack stood with his greatsword tilted at his side, watching with amusement as the pirates inside the semi-spherical space were sliced apart — dismembered like Buggy, but not by their own will.

"Law, I have to admit — your power is terrifying. It doesn't kill, but it traps people in a state worse than death. Truly worthy of the legendary Ope Ope no Mi."

He had heard of the "Operation Fruit's" value, but today he finally understood part of the reason. He couldn't help but wonder: just how miraculous could this power become when fully awakened?

One of his "Fried Troopers" had been cut diagonally from shoulder to waist. His upper body floated helplessly in the air, reaching toward Snagg, terror and pleading in his eyes.

"Lord Snack, help me…!"

But Snack ignored the man's cry.

Law stood not far away, his voice cold.

"Your power isn't far behind."

He glanced at his own left arm — large patches of burn scars bubbled with blood, glistening with oil that dripped steadily to the ground. His heart clenched slightly at the sight.

Though the Contract Mark was slowly healing the wound, the pain was excruciating. For the time being, his left arm was all but useless — even the slightest movement was agony.

Under the brim of his spotted hat, his dark-ringed eyes watched Snack warily, like a stray cat ready to spring — wary of another sudden strike.

Snack's lower face was hidden behind layers of fur scarves, but the smug laughter that came from beneath made his confidence clear.

"I'm a Paramecia-type Fried-Fried Fruit user. Doing something like this is nothing to me."

He pulled off his black gloves, revealing what seemed to be ordinary hands — but they gleamed faintly, capable of producing boiling oil in an instant, as if each palm were a miniature deep fryer that could sear anything it touched.

Boom—

Taking advantage of Snack's words, Law slammed his foot into the ground, launching forward in a flash. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance and swung his sword upward. Snack leaned back just enough to dodge the strike.

"How rude… but that won't give you any advantage…"

As Law's blade missed, Snack's greatsword swept horizontally in retaliation, aiming to cut him clean in half.

Law's body split at the waist — but Snack froze in surprise.

My sword didn't even touch him… He separated himself on purpose!

Within Law's "ROOM," he could replicate Buggy's "Chop-Chop" separation at will.

Snack suddenly looked up — Law's upper body was right before him, sword reversed and point-first, thrusting straight at his throat!

He failed to dodge in time.

The blade stabbed through his striped scarf — but instead of the feeling of flesh yielding, Law felt his sword strike something solid, like stone. Even his ability seemed repelled.

He narrowed his eyes.

Through Observation Haki, he saw what had happened — the Armament Haki dispersed through Snack's body had flowed instantly to his throat, forming an impenetrable defense.

"Law, you rookies from the first half of the Grand Line never understand — when Haki and Devil Fruit powers collide, Haki always takes precedence!"

Snack's rasping laugh echoed from beneath his scarf as he thrust out his bare left hand, pressing it against Law's cheek. In an instant, the "Fried-Fried" power sizzled to life —

Szzzzzz—

"Ahhhh—!!"

Law screamed involuntarily. In less than two seconds of contact, blistered boils and charred flesh covered half his face, skin curling and smoke rising from the burn!

A moment later, his head split cleanly in two.

He grabbed the burned half in his hand and tossed it aside, severing the connection before the frying heat could spread further.

Law's upper and lower halves rejoined — but half his head was missing, the cross-section a pale gray, his eyes cold and fierce.

Snack stared at the gruesome sight and burst out laughing.

"Decisive! For a rookie, that's impressive… But I didn't finish my earlier point: if my Haki overwhelms yours, then my fruit's ability will still take effect!"

"This is how the strong fight in the New World, boy — you're still too green!"

Grinding his teeth against the pain, Law thought quickly.

So the key to defeating him… is breaking through his Haki barrier.

But Snack's Haki reserves were greater — an objective fact that couldn't be reversed quickly. How do I break through his defense while his Haki can freely flow?

If Snack had just coated his entire body evenly, that would've been easier — spreading it thin would've weakened it overall.

But Snack wasn't that foolish.

That meant only one thing — Law would have to pull and tear the Haki flow apart.

He lowered his gaze to his half-healed left arm. The burns were recovering enough to move again. Then, with a steadying breath, he charged at Snack once more.

Snack looked genuinely surprised.

"Still coming at me? Even crushed under both my Haki and my fruit power? I'll give you credit for guts… Surrender, kid. I'll recommend you to Mama — make you one of my top lieutenants."

"I've no desire to serve under a man who reeks of grease."

Law raised his cursed blade, Kikoku. A shockwave burst outward — the "Operation" field expanded again, enveloping the area around Snack. Then, pressing his fingers together, Law pointed upward.

Snack calmly coated himself in Armament Haki, nullifying the Room's effect.

"Forgot already? Unless your Haki surpasses mine at one point, your 'Operation' won't work. And that will never happen!"

"…Which is why I'm not using it on you."

Snack's expression changed. Around him, sand and gravel rose into the air, swirling like a fountain.

"Law — what are you plotting now?"

Law didn't answer. He closed his eyes, sensing through the dust — then snapped them open and slashed.

"Idiot! You'll get the same result every time!"

Snack dodged the slash, then brought his massive sword down vertically toward Law's face.

But in that instant — Law vanished.

Or rather — most of him did.

In front of Snack hovered half of Law's burned head.

Swapping his half-head's position? What a ridiculous ability!

Snack redirected his swing toward the floating head—

But it vanished again — replaced by a massive cone-shaped chunk of floating terrain!

A piece of ground? From where—?

Before he could react, the floor beneath Snack gave way.

Law had excavated the very ground under Snack's feet — and swapped its position with the piece he'd lifted into the air!

Snack plunged downward, sand collapsing around him, burying his lower body.

That damned brat…! Snack seethed, all thoughts of recruiting Law gone. Now he wanted to tear him apart.

You're finished, Law!

Extending his Observation Haki like an eagle's vision, Snack peered past the flying sand and floating debris — and froze.

Law wasn't there at all. Instead, half of his head was floating in the air, drifting away.

If he's not there, then—

Realization hit too late.

From behind, a blade thrust upward through the sand, piercing his back and skewering his heart!

Squelch—

Snack's heart flew cleanly out of his chest — a perfect square slab of pulsing flesh.

Eyes wide with horror, Snack swung his sword in desperation, trying to hook it back — but another hand caught it midair.

Law's hand.

He gazed coldly at the heart trembling in his palm.

All the rapid swaps had drained his stamina; his breathing was ragged. But the sight of Snack's heart made it worth every drop.

He swapped positions again — the dug-up land beneath Snack refilled instantly, lifting the "Fried Minister" back up from the sand.

Snack steadied himself, furious, and lunged forward, roaring:

"Brat! Give me back my heart!"

Law stepped back calmly — and clenched his fist.

Agonizing pain wracked Snack's body; he convulsed violently and collapsed to the ground, curling up in a heap.

Law walked over to retrieve his discarded half-head, rejoining it to his body. The burns on his face had healed slightly — though the scars still twisted his features into something almost monstrous.

He touched the rough, flaking skin of his cheek, then released the spherical Room with a flick of his wrist.

Without ceremony, he tossed the pulsing heart onto the sand.

"Charlotte Snack," he said coldly, "remember the name of the man who killed you — Trafalgar D. Water Law."

"To deal with the lowest of the Four Sweet Commanders, there was no need for Captain Davy Jones or the Desert Crocodile himself. I was more than enough."

As Snack's terrified eyes widened, Law reversed his sword, the tip driving down into the heart.

Blood sprayed across the sand.

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