Chapter Text
POV: Penguin
The next morning, we stood at the entrance to the valley that led inward from the gray plateau into the heart of the island. A narrow path wound its way through mountain formations and sharp rock clefts. The wind howled like a dying animal.
I swallowed and tightened my grip on my spear.
“The wind sounds like a warning,” Bepo said, lifting his snout and scenting the air. I shot him a worried glance. If even Bepo had reservations about this…
But he hated snakes, so his nervousness was hardly surprising.
“The wind sounds like wind,” Law said and stepped into the valley without hesitation. Upright, alert, his purposeful movements like a silent threat to anyone who dared stand in his way.
“When do we finally get the hell off this island,” Shachi muttered from the back. He had lowered his voice, probably thinking the Captain wouldn’t hear him. An irritated click of the tongue proved him wrong.
“You can handle a few snakes,” Law replied without turning around.
I felt a bit sorry for Shachi. He was pale, squinting against the sunlight even with his cap pulled low. He had drunk too much at the festival the night before, and Law knew it. But the Captain wasn’t the understanding type, at least not when it came to alcohol.
We followed Law into the valley. The path was so narrow we had to walk in single file. The Captain in front, then me and Bepo; Shachi stumbled along behind us like a ghost.
The wind kept howling, growing louder. Again and again, I heard small stones clatter down the slopes behind us. Bepo kept turning around in panic.
“I hate snakes,” he said over and over. “They slither around like worms… when they attack, you don’t see the strike coming.”
“Stop looking back all the time,” I said. “You’re making me nervous.”
“But Shachi is completely hungover. What if they eat him and we don’t even notice?”
“They only eat sheep,” Law said. “Shachi doesn’t interest them.”
“If anything, you’re the one who looks like a sheep,” came from behind.
Bepo stiffened.
Why couldn’t that idiot just shut up for once?
In battle, Bepo was our anchor. He covered my right side, which was weaker in terms of coordination, and he guided Shachi’s restless, unfocused sword swings into something structured. Together, we were a team to be reckoned with. If Bepo ever lost his focus, which happened extremely rarely, then Shachi and I were like two kids constantly stepping on each other’s feet.
“Bepo doesn’t look anything like a sheep!” I said, shooting Shachi an angry glare.
“T-Thanks, Peng.”
The polar bear nearly tripped over a root, and my left hand clenched around the spear.
A bad feeling crept over me.
More and more rock fissures and small cave openings appeared to our left and right, leading into the mountain and into the ground. They seemed to breathe like dark mouths. The sparse trees on the slopes stretched toward the sky like claws.
I heard a scraping sound and jolted forward, but it was only Law nudging a branch aside with his foot.
“Get a grip,” he said.
Shachi coughed something into his suit that sounded suspiciously like “slave driver,” and Bepo’s ears twitched.
He stopped.
“They’re in the cracks,” the mink said, suddenly unsettlingly calm. “I can hear them crawling through the mountain.”
We all froze. Our breath stalled halfway to our lungs. It was as if even the wind held its breath for a moment.
A small crease appeared between Law’s eyebrows.
We called that expression “mild concern,” and it usually meant you should be maximally concerned yourself.
Another scraping sound.
This time, Law hadn’t touched anything. The wind fell silent. A pebble rolled down the slope, each impact echoing in our ears. It dropped into one of the dark fissures, clattering against stone. The echo multiplied, and the hair on my arms stood on end.
The sound dragged on endlessly, reverberated through me, and it felt as though the stone was falling through the entire mountain. And everything crawling in there had heard it.
No one spoke.
Until Shachi audibly exhaled. “What the–”
A snake shot out of a rock crevice.
Its body was as thick as my thigh, its jaws wide open, hissing through fangs as long as knives. Bepo screamed. Shachi stood there, staring at the Grimspeak Viper lunging toward him.
In a single motion, Law severed the snake’s head. I hadn’t even noticed him drawing Kikoku.
Violet blood gushed from the stump like a waterfall, splashing across Shachi’s suit.
“Warm-up’s over,” Law said. “Now comes the practical part.”
After several hours, I was covered in violet slime. My chest burned, and my left shoulder throbbed. Snake carcasses lay scattered between us. Violet blood ran down half of Shachi’s face, his suit torn in countless places. Bepo’s fur was ruffled and dusty, his teeth bared, claws extended. We were all breathing hard.
Law wiped his blade roughly with a cloth and slid it back into its sheath.
“I think that’s enough for today,” he said, letting his gaze pass over the dead snakes. “Hopefully there’ll still be enough left for tomorrow.”
He probably didn’t need to worry. Another body was already slipping out of a distant cave, and I reacted instinctively. Ignoring the pain in my shoulder, I hurled the spear at the slithering shape. The weapon whistled through the air and pierced the Grimspeak Viper.
“Good aim,” Law said.
I was still panting, but I smiled faintly. Maybe the brutal training had paid off after all. I let myself drop to the ground, allowed myself a brief moment to breathe, and wiped the sweat from my brow.
Shachi nearly lost his balance. He’d been unsteady even before, partly from the hangover, partly because one of the vipers had bitten him. It wasn’t lethal venom, according to Law. It only caused mild dizziness and visual disturbances for a few minutes. But Shachi was finished. And we weren’t doing much better. The snakes were fast, their attacks snapping shut like traps. They saw well, heard well, and could sense vibrations through the ground.
Shachi dropped down next to me. He hadn’t spoken in a while.
As he sat down, a vibration ran through the rock. Small stones trickled down the slopes, clattering across the ground in an eerie dance.
“What was that?” I asked quietly, pressing my hand against the warm rock. But the trembling had already stopped.
Then we heard it.
It was as if the sound came from all the caves and fissures at once. A rough scraping dragged across stone.
Bepo’s eyes widened, his white fur bristling.
Then the sound vanished again.
“What was that?” I asked, looking into faces that stared at me in horror.
No. Not at me. At something beside me.
Almost soundlessly, the head of the snake slid out of a hole barely a meter away from me.
From the corner of my eye, I saw its thick, scaled body rising.
The beast reared up before me. It was enormous, far larger than the others. Its body was as thick as a tree trunk, its scales bleached pale, and it stared at me with red eyes. Slitted pupils contracted in the sunlight.
I couldn’t move.
I just stared at it like a terrified piece of prey.
My left hand instinctively grasped for my weapon, but there was nothing there. The spear was still lodged in the other snake’s corpse.
First rule of combat: never take your eyes off your weapon. You should have learned that by now.
“Damn it, Peng. Move!” Law shouted. He had drawn Kikoku, the blade flashing in the bright sun.
I looked at him as if in slow motion.
Then I felt the familiar tug as Law used his Devil Fruit to rip me out of danger. I hit the dust and saw only the snake’s head slam forward, burying itself in the ground where I’d been standing a fraction of a second earlier. Shit.
The paralysis broke. I scrambled up. The spear.
Shachi and Bepo began to circle the snake. Bepo tried to confuse it with quick punches and kicks, while Shachi held his katana out with trembling hands.
I ran to the snake carcass, yanking at the spear. It wouldn’t come free, caught between the scales. As I pulled, I had to watch the viper remain completely unfazed by Shachi’s and Bepo’s attacks. It twitched its head slightly when Bepo landed a kick, only to lash out with its tail and send him flying several meters. Bepo rolled and landed on all fours. His suit was torn now as well. He bared his teeth.
The snake snapped its head toward Shachi, who had already struggled to stay upright from the start of the fight. But suddenly the red-haired pirate vanished, and a tall, dark figure appeared in his place.
“I’m your opponent,” Law said.
The snake’s red gaze fixed on the Captain, who stood there as if this were all a game. His left hand was raised to maintain the Room. He wore a tight, strained grin.
The snake hissed, as if it understood him. It reared up, towering over him. Then its jaws shot toward him.
Law dodged, twisting aside, but the beast was fast. Maybe faster than he’d expected. He was tired too.
Its jaws grazed his arm, just barely, but red blood splashed onto the ground. It wasn’t a deep wound, but he flinched. The venom had to burn like fire. Shachi’s screams from earlier were still too vivid in my mind.
I wrenched the spear free at last. But when I looked at the pale snake again, that paralyzing fear seized me once more.
Enough, Penguin.
I bent down and picked up a stone.
“Oy.”
The stone hit the snake’s head, and its eyes snapped to me. “I’m still here too. ”
Law clutched his arm and looked at me. Our eyes met.
I gave a slight nod, as if I understood him.
Then I threw another stone.
My aim was true. The stone reached its highest point directly above the viper’s head.
“Shambles.”
I suppressed the wave of panic that always hit when I suddenly appeared in midair. The stone clattered to the ground where I’d been standing moments before.
Gravity dragged me down with full force.
There was no time to think. The snake’s head was less than half a meter away.
Not the skin. The scales are too thick.
I decided instinctively. I raised the spear and drove it straight through its left eye. It punched through the creature’s skull, sank in almost an arm’s length, and stuck there. The snake hissed. The sound was so piercing I feared the vibrations would shatter my bones. I clung to the spear, dangling for a few seconds before it snapped like a dry branch and I fell.
A blue flash, and I reappeared in the dust beside Law.
“Well done,” he rasped, still holding his arm.
The snake’s body writhed. Its head jerked, nostrils flaring. It made that piercing sound again.
“Is it dying?” I asked.
Law narrowed his eyes. His sword arm trembled. He must have absorbed more venom than I’d thought.
“No,” he said. “Not yet.”
He was right. The snake showed no sign of collapsing. Instead, it went berserk. It lashed its massive body across the ground, flinging rubble and stones, whipping up dust until we were blind. My eyes burned. The Captain was barely visible beside me, just a silhouette.
I felt the rush of air. The hiss. A shadow loomed.
The snake’s head burst through the dust cloud, my spear still lodged in its left eye, the blue braided ribbon beneath the tip fluttering with the motion.
Then something struck me, and I hit the ground.
The dust settled a little, and I had to watch as Law faced the snake. He swung his sword in a wide arc, slashing into its belly. But it lunged at him, struck his arm again, as if it knew exactly where it had bitten him before. Kikoku clattered to the ground.
Law clutched his arm, blinking, swaying. His concentration faltered for just a fraction of a second. It was all it needed.
The monster seized its chance. It surged forward, jaws wide open, venom dripping from its fangs.
I could only watch.
And in that moment, it became clear.
It was all my fault.
I should have finished this snake earlier.
I should have been faster, better, stronger. For days, for weeks, I’d done nothing but complain about the brutal training instead of giving it everything I had.
And now we were dying here.
The viper rushed toward Law, his face frozen in an expression of indifference.
And then a slender figure slammed into the Captain, shoving him against the rock wall.
And the viper’s fangs sank into Sanroku Kira’s shoulder.