Apoo pressed his long, many-jointed arms against the ground and flipped backward like a puppet on strings, landing far from the smoking crater.
"This guy's tougher than I thought," he muttered. "I figured the captain had already finished him off."
The same thought had flashed through the minds of the other Supernovas—only Kuro could still sense the faint thread of life within Enel and knew he wasn't dead yet.
Suddenly, a thin pillar of lightning shot skyward.
It was nothing like the magnificent blasts from before; this one fizzled out after only a few meters.
Amid the flickering light, Enel staggered to his feet, his whole body trembling.
Bent at the waist, disbelief clouding his face, he rasped,
"I lost again… to a man from the Blue Sea. Even though I've become stronger, I lost even faster…"
The last traces of savagery still gleamed in Enel's eyes, but Kuro and the Supernovas didn't flinch.
They all knew—the so-called Thunder God was finished.
Still, they kept their guard up, ready in case the fallen god lashed out in one final fit of madness.
"With so many flaws," Enel said hoarsely, glancing up at the clouds as they began to scatter, "I can no longer call myself a 'god.'"
His gaze hardened. "But fortunately… I'll have another chance."
"He's trying to run!" Apoo shouted, catching on first.
The warning jolted everyone—but before they could move, Enel's body erupted into blinding lightning.
With a thunderclap, he shot into the air like a cannon shell.
Kuro couldn't catch him, let alone the others.
Enel streaked away from Raijin Island like a bolt of light, heading north.
In the blink of an eye, he was no bigger than a speck against the clouds—then gone.
"Fast as hell," Apoo muttered, swinging his long arms like chimes that clacked against each other. "Shame I won't get to pay him back—my ribs are still tingling from that lightning."
Bonney folded her arms, lips painted with a little red heart. "Keep dreaming. The only one who can keep that lightning freak in check is Captain Davy Jones."
Kuro glanced their way, a flicker of impatience crossing his otherwise calm face. Then he said quietly,
"The captain's back."
Whoosh—
Before the words had faded, Davy Jones landed softly on the ground—black cloak flowing, tricorn hat shadowing his face.
The trident had already melted back into his body, and a pistol hung loosely at his hip.
"He runs fast," Davy Jones remarked flatly. "But it won't matter. He'll come for me again, eventually."
He and Enel had exchanged a final glance before the latter fled—and in that instant, Davy Jones had left a curse inside him, just as he had done with Black Cage Hina and Aokiji Kuzan.
The meaning of his words was lost on Kuro and the Supernovas, but he offered no explanation.
At that moment, the villagers of Raijin Island—finally realizing the danger had passed—came pouring out from hiding.
They fell to their knees before Davy Jones once more.
"Lord 'Demon King'!" they cried. "Thank you for driving away Enel! We don't know how to repay such a debt!"
Davy Jones had no interest in their gratitude.
He pointed at them and told Kuro, "Teach them the rules. Black Pearl Island and Raijin Island are yours to manage for now."
"Yes, Captain."
Kuro placed a hand over his chest and bowed elegantly before turning toward the islanders, chest swelling with quiet pride.
Far away, in the New World, at the heart of the Totto Land archipelago—the domain of the Charlotte Family—a storm was gathering over Whole Cake Island.
Charlotte Perospero, the eldest son, and Charlotte Katakuri, the second son, walked side by side down a long, shadowed corridor, their voices low.
"Still no word from Snack?" asked Katakuri, his short, wine-red hair gleaming dimly in the light.
The lower half of his face was hidden behind layers of a gray scarf.
It was easy to see where Snack had gotten his habit of covering his mouth—the imitation spoke volumes about Katakuri's position within the family.
Even as the eldest son, Perospero couldn't outshine him; in strength, the gap was even greater.
Perospero's long, pink tongue lolled from his mouth like a dog's.
Twirling his candy cane staff, he shook his head. "The last time we spoke was a week ago. Since then—nothing. No matter how I try, I can't reach him."
"Where was he last stationed?"
Katakuri, having just returned from clashing with Kaido's men over Whitebeard's old territories, knew little about Snack's latest mission.
"Mother sent him to Fish-Man Island," Perospero said, shaking his head again—the motion making his tongue flap and spatter saliva.
"She shouldn't have. He wasn't up to it, and now he's vanished."
"Snack is still one of the Sweet Commanders," Katakuri reminded him quietly. "He should have been more than capable of handling the assignment. Mama's judgment wasn't wrong."
"Oh, come on," Perospero snorted. "We both know Snack's not in your league—or Cracker's or Smoothie's. He can handle small-time pirates, sure, but…"
"Even so," Katakuri interrupted, "there aren't many on Fish-Man Island who could make Snack disappear. Any clues?"
"More or less." Perospero nodded. "Word is, Fish-Man Island has changed hands. It's now under the control of Davy Jones."
"Davy Jones…" Katakuri's brow furrowed at once. The name was impossible to ignore—it had been echoing across the seas lately.
"So it was him. Looks like he beat us to Fish-Man Island… and then ran into Snack."
The rest needed no saying.
They weren't judges on Enies Lobby—they didn't need a full chain of evidence to draw a conclusion.
"Davy Jones killed Snack," Perospero said flatly. "That's the most reasonable explanation. If not him, then Crocodile—or maybe Jinbe."
"Jinbe?" Katakuri blinked. He knew about Crocodile's surrender to Davy Jones but hadn't heard the news about Jinbe.
Not long ago, he'd heard Jinbe had been stripped of his Shichibukai title after the Summit War—and had disappeared, along with another who'd lost that title, Blackbeard Teach.
Jinbe's sins needed no elaboration, and Teach's were worse—helping the world's most dangerous criminals escape Impel Down had violated every agreement the government had with the Seven Warlords.
The scandal had been disastrous. The World Government wasted no time erasing both men's titles.
"If the information brokers are right," Perospero growled, "Jinbe has become one of Davy Jones's top commanders.
Damn that fish-man. Damn that so-called Warlord."
"Then Snack's loss makes sense," Katakuri said calmly. "With subordinates like that, Davy Jones's power runs deep."
But his thoughts had already moved elsewhere.
He had accepted Snack's likely death; this was the brutal world of pirates, not a child's game.
Unless Davy Jones intended to use Snack as a hostage to threaten the Charlotte Family—which would be foolish—Snack would already have died with dignity rather than shame his bloodline.
"And now," Perospero went on angrily, "Davy Jones controls the entire undersea route. It used to be a free passage, but now he charges tolls—and sets his own restrictions!"
The expression on his face was a mix of envy and resentment. That trade route should have been the Charlottes'—his—to milk for endless profits.
Now, countless berries flowed into another man's hands.
Katakuri was silent for a while before asking, "How's Mama?"
Perospero's eyes twitched. Just the question seemed to conjure a terrifying image.
"She's… furious."
"The head chef, Streusen, has been baking nonstop for three days and nights," he said, swallowing hard, "and she's still not satisfied."
"I even sent Flampe and Brûlée to cheer her up," he added. "Didn't help. She chased them out."
Flampe—the thirty-sixth daughter—and Brûlée—the thirty-fifth—were among the family's most beloved daughters.
Even Big Mom herself doted on them.
If not even they could soothe her mood, things were truly dire.
The likely death of Snack, the loss of Fish-Man Island she'd coveted for years—these had driven Charlotte Linlin to the brink of madness.
From afar, Perospero and Katakuri could already hear the furious roars and gnashing sounds coming from their mother's chamber.
Both fell silent as they approached the massive double doors.
"Get in here!"
The thunderous voice shook the walls. They steadied themselves, exchanged a look, and pushed the doors open.
Inside, a single candelabra flickered weakly, stretching their shadows long across the floor—as if even the darkness wanted to flee.
A mountainous figure loomed in the gloom, only the edge of a pink skirt showing where the candlelight touched.
Beside her sat a vast bowl piled with pastries. At the top rested a single, half-eaten cream puff—large as a giant's head, its oozing cream like spilled brain matter.
Big Mom stopped eating.
Her piercing eyes locked onto her sons.
"Have you found Snack?" she demanded, voice heavy enough to crush.
Perospero shook his head, then repeated everything he'd learned—about Davy Jones, their deductions, the implications.
"So," Charlotte Linlin hissed, her voice dropping to a lethal calm, "that man… killed my son?"
Her gaze froze, voice colder still. "He killed my son?"
How many years had it been since anyone dared lay a finger on one of her children?
Not other Yonko, not even the Navy had ever crossed that line.
Her children had always survived—until now.
Until the day news of Snack's disappearance reached her ears.
The candlelight trembled as her fury thickened, filling the room like a storm about to break.
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