As the Big Mom Pirates' Minister of Fries and one of the Sweet Commanders, Snack hadn't given a second thought to the small-time members of the Donquixote Family.
But now, his brother had been murdered by these... ants. He would have vengeance.
Snack's eyes burned, his killing intent palpable. He drew the longsword from his back, leveling it at Baby 5 and the others.
The pressure was immense. Baby 5 and the others talked a big game, but they knew the truth: their strength wasn't enough. They might not be able to escape his clutches.
"Neh, neh, Baby 5," Trebol said, his voice serious. "When you get the chance, run. Get to the Young Master, and you'll be safe. We'll hold him here."
"Lord Trebol, I don't believe we can't beat him if we all attack together!" Baby 5 said stubbornly. Run away alone? Impossible.
"Get lost! We're here. What's a little pipsqueak like you getting involved for?" Trebol's expression was a rare, serious mask. His usual lecherous aura was gone, replaced by that of an elder, a pioneer clearing a path for the next generation.
"That's right! Lord Trebol is right. Baby 5, we're all that's needed here. It's time to let him taste the power of Jio-Ken! G!" Lao G struck his pose, having clearly put his life on the line.
"Baby 5, this is our battle," Jora added, her own resolve hardening. "We just arrived in the New World, and we were captured. The humiliation! Let me wash this stain away... with art!"
"Let me crush him to powder!" Machvise shouted. His attitude said it all.
"None of you are escaping! You will all join my brother Mont-d'Or! Die!" Snack's sword flashed as he charged, appearing between them in an instant.
So fast! they all thought, but their bodies were already moving, dodging the blade.
"Sticky Meteor Shower!" Trebol was the first to counter, flinging a volley of his sticky fluid at Snack.
Snack blocked it with his sword. The blade was now covered in the disgusting substance.
Trebol saw Snack's expression twist. "Behehehe, Sticky Hell Journey!" A torrent of mucus poured from Trebol, covering the ground between them.
"Lord Trebol, your ability is so gross!" Baby 5 whined, looking at the ocean of snot.
"Little girl, what do you know? Why are you still here? Go!" Trebol shot her a look, urging her to leave. "Sticky Launcher!"
The goo wrapped around Snack's ankles, and another shot hit him square in the chest, immobilizing him.
"Machvise, now!" Trebol shouted.
"Let me crush him!" Machvise rocketed thousands of meters into the sky, then plummeted with unstoppable momentum. "Hell's Ten-Thousand Ton Vise!"
He fell like a meteor.
Snack showed no panic. He was held, but he hadn't used his real power.
"I have to admit, your ability is disgusting, but it's not bad. Similar to Brother Perospero's. But it's useless on me. Let me kill you first! Deep Fry: High Temp!"
Snack's body temperature skyrocketed. Trebol's all-powerful goo met its match. It softened, then rapidly evaporated.
BOOM!
Machvise's ten-thousand-ton body slammed into the earth. Snack was gone.
He had reappeared next to Trebol. The high-temperature blade, so hot it seemed to vaporize the air, made the mucus on Trebol's body retreat.
"Snot Blade Snatch!" Trebol made a desperate, last-ditch effort to catch the blade.
But Snack wouldn't let him. The scorching sword slashed across Trebol's body.
TSSSSLA!
The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Trebol screamed in agony.
"Lord Trebol!" Baby 5's hands became pistols, her fire forcing Snack back.
"Die for me! Art Wave!" Jora waved, and her abstract beams of energy flew. Anything they hit was warped and rendered useless.
Snack, using Observation Haki, sensed the threat and dodged them easily.
Meanwhile, Machvise was stuck in the crater he'd made. "Lao G, pull me out!"
"Jio-Ken!" Lao G blasted him free.
"Thanks!"
They both turned to the battlefield. Trebol's chest was a massive burn, the cut so deep they could see bone. The goo covering his body had melted away, revealing the truth: a frail, withered body that looked like a strong wind could knock it over.
Machvise and Lao G immediately appeared at his side, supporting him. "Lord Trebol, are you okay?"
"Huu... huu..." Trebol panted, the pain searing. In that moment, he hated himself for not having trained harder. If he had, he wouldn't be this pathetic. "It's... fine," he forced. "It'll take more than this... to kill me."
"We're relieved," they said in unison.
They looked at Jora and Baby 5. Their firepower was intense, but Snack was on another level. Baby 5 hadn't even awakened her Haki yet; she was running purely on her Devil Fruit.
Their attacks were fierce, but they weren't hitting.
Snack sneered, easily dodging, closing the distance. If he reached them, one hit would be all it took.
Baby 5 and Jora were sweating, seeing his intent. They attacked even more desperately, the sheer volume forcing Snack back a few meters.
He was annoyed. He had been so close.
He changed tactics, stabbing his sword straight into the ground.
The five tensed.
"High-Temp Deep Fry!"
The ground began to boil. Trebol, supported by the others, almost fell as the earth churned. The ground liquefied into a scalding, high-temperature sludge, rising around them like a vat of boiling oil.
They were like potato chips being dropped into a deep fryer.
"Jora!" Trebol yelled, an idea striking him. "Can you turn the ground into art?!"
Jora's eyes lit up. Ignoring the heat, she slapped her hands on the churning earth. "Become an ocean of art!"
The scalding oil vanished, replaced by a colorful, surreal, and solid landscape. They were safe... for now.
But just as they relaxed, the killing intent returned.
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