At Crocodile's recommendation, Davy Jones had appointed Law as the commander of his "outstretched tentacle" — the spearhead of their expansion into the New World.
They had only just seized this target island less than two days ago — to abandon it now would be unthinkable.
How could Law accept that?
Besides, Davy Jones had already given clear orders regarding any possible interference from Big Mom's forces:
"Drive them away. And if you can't — then fight them. Whatever happens, I'll handle the consequences."
Davy Jones had no fear of Big Mom's might.
To flinch before a Yonko was to start a chain of retreat that would only end at the cliff's edge — with nowhere left to stand.
And as the captain, so too the crew.
Law knew that if he wanted to stand out amid the powerhouse that was the Davy Jones Pirates — to someday command his own fleet, capable of taking on even the Donquixote Family — he had to seize this chance.
For all he knew, this might be the last time Captain Davy Jones entrusted him with command.
So, with resolve steeled, Law answered Snack without hesitation:
"This is Captain Davy Jones' territory. We will not withdraw.
And now, in his name, I order you — leave this island within fifteen minutes."
Leave?
Snack froze, incredulous. He had never imagined there were any forces left in the New World — aside from Kaido, Red-Hair, or the Navy — bold enough to defy Big Mom's authority.
Had the Davy Jones Pirates gone mad?
His narrow eyes grew colder, the bridge of his hooked nose tightening.
The heavy scarf around his mouth hid his expression, but everyone could sense the simmering fury beneath it.
The towering Snack looked down upon Law. For an instant, the air between them boiled like a lidded pot ready to explode.
"I'll say this once more," Snack growled.
He stepped forward. Behind him, Baron Tamago, Pekoms, and the rest of his men followed — dark and heavy as storm clouds descending on a city.
"This island belongs to Big Mom. You will leave — immediately."
Law tilted up the brim of his hat and took a step forward of his own — until only three meters separated them.
"Then I'll repeat myself as well," he said quietly.
"This island belongs to the Deep Sea King of the Sea."
Buggy, Perona, and Porche were trembling, their hearts pounding at the thought of clashing with Big Mom's forces — but at this moment, they could only stand behind Law.
They drew up their men in formation at his back.
The Fried Minister Corps and the Death Surgeon Unit faced one another across the soft sand, tension thick as fog — until Snack finally lost his patience.
With a sharp clang, he drew the massive blade from his back, its aura chilling the air.
"So be it," he snarled.
"Bring out Davy Jones and Crocodile! In Big Mom's name, I'll take the heads of those who dare insult us!"
Law gave a cold smirk.
"To deal with you, there's no need for the Captain or the Sand Crocodile to bother."
His fingers pressed against the hilt of Kikoku, sliding it just enough to reveal its gleaming edge.
Snack's eyes widened slightly.
"You want to die, boy? Fine. I am Snack — 'Minister of Fried Foods,' one of the Four Sweet Commanders.
Tell me your name before I end you."
Law hadn't expected this man to be one of Big Mom's top four enforcers — the weakest of them, perhaps, but still formidable. Even so, he did not back down.
"Trafalgar Law. 'The Surgeon of Death.'"
"Ahh… I've heard of you," Snack said mockingly.
"A rookie with a bounty a little over two hundred million, was it? Cute."
He twisted his grip, the light glinting off his blade. The tip stopped just beside Law's head.
"Don't think a bounty means strength. Mine's six hundred million.
Let me show you what those extra few hundred million really mean!"
"Attack!"
With that, Snack lunged — his strike exploding into the battle's opening clash.
The beach erupted with shouts and chaos as the two sides collided, shadows weaving together in a blur of motion.
Law swung Kikoku horizontally, intercepting Snack's descending blade — but the shock of the Yonko commander's Haki sent him sliding backward through the sand.
Such dense Haki… Law thought, grimacing.
Snack withdrew his sword, resting it on his shoulder with a cold, contemptuous chuckle.
"Looks like my Haki surpasses yours.
Call out Davy Jones and Crocodile now — while you still can. I've no time to play with small fry."
Law exhaled slowly. His dark-ringed eyes were steady, calm.
"If the weakest of the Sweet Commanders is all you are…
then I'm more than enough to handle you."
"You insolent brat!"
Snack charged, massive steps churning up sand.
"Then die!"
Their blades clashed — steel against steel, Haki crackling in the air.
The shockwaves blasted sand outward, forcing both crews to scatter and leave the two a battlefield of their own.
Meanwhile, Buggy, Perona, and Porche led the Death Surgeon Unit against the Fried Minister Corps.
Snack's men were better equipped — their armor looked puffed and crisp, like freshly fried batter, but it was incredibly tough.
They fought in tight formation, disciplined and coordinated — nothing like Law's newly assembled rabble.
In raw troop strength, the Death Surgeon Unit was completely outmatched.
But Buggy, Perona, and Porche's individual power more than made up the difference — and soon, they were pushing the enemy back.
Buggy's Bara Bara no Mi ability, Perona's Hollow Ghosts, both wreaked havoc the Fried Corps couldn't counter.
Even Porche, though never among Davy Jones' strongest, had improved tremendously since signing the Contract Seal.
Her physical strength and latent potential had surged — and through two relentless weeks of training, she'd awakened Haki.
Still rough, but enough to coat her iron staff with power.
One blow, one soldier down.
Porche's strikes shattered armor and bone alike — she was no longer the decorative mascot she once was.
The only ones capable of holding them back were Baron Tamago and Pekoms.
Tamago kicked an opponent down with his long legs and called to his partner:
"Pekoms! Watch out for those floating white ghosts — they drain your fighting spirit!"
"Relax! I'm nimble, remember?" Pekoms shot back gruffly, but obeyed all the same.
He swung his sword, felling several enemies and narrowly dodging a ghost's approach.
Not far off, Perona scowled, her arms crossed.
"Tch… missed."
Tamago hesitated a moment, then said quietly:
"Their Devil Fruit abilities are troublesome. Time to use our contingency plan."
"You sure?" Pekoms turned, startled.
"I'm sure. Do it, Pekoms."
"Understood."
Without hesitation, Pekoms drove his sword straight through Baron Tamago's chest!
Tamago's body burst — egg yolk and white splattering everywhere.
Buggy blinked in confusion.
"Huh?! They're fighting each other?!"
Perona giggled behind her hand.
"Horo horo horo… well, that saves us the trouble!"
But Porche wasn't so easily fooled.
"If there's one thing I've learned since entering the New World," she said warily, "it's that nothing here is simple.
The seas are unpredictable — and so are the enemies."
Sure enough — though Pekoms' blade had pierced Tamago clean through, moments later his body began to change.
When he reappeared, he had transformed into a half-human, half-chick hybrid — bright yellow feathers, arms turned to wings.
Buggy and Perona both gasped.
Porche, however, recognized it instantly.
"I see now… Zoan-type transformation!"
Tamago — now the Viscount Chick — smiled.
"Quick reflexes, I'll give you that."
Egg, chick…
Buggy didn't need to think hard to guess what the next form would be — and Zoan transformations always meant a boost in strength.
"Can't let that happen!"
His detached left hand hurled a flurry of throwing knives straight into Viscount Chick's back, piercing him through!
With a shrill cheep, the viscount toppled to the ground.
"That easy?" Buggy blinked, amazed.
But in truth, the viscount had allowed the attack.
Buggy didn't care — his right hand flung more knives, intent on finishing the job.
Then — clang, clang, clang!
A crimson blur shot between them, deflecting every blade.
Buggy looked up — and froze.
A lion-headed, turtle-bodied figure stood before him — Pekoms' shell glowed red, coated in Haki.
"Can't have you interrupting the viscount's evolution," Pekoms growled.
"I'm no longer the Viscount Chick," came a proud voice.
From the ground rose a tall Count Chicken, his white feathers gleaming, aura crackling with Haki.
His speed and strength had multiplied — a qualitative leap in power.
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