Buggy's left eye widened in alarm. Just as he was about to erupt in a tirade, a towering, broad-shouldered figure suddenly appeared midair—descending like a massive mountain from the heavens.
Cracker's scalp tingled with dread. Sensing danger, he whirled around—only to see a fierce fist hurtling straight toward his face!
"Fishman Karate: Shark Tile Punch!"
Cracker's face twisted violently under the blow, his features nearly contorting out of shape. His whole body was flung backward, smashing through a section of the tiled floor and gouging a straight trench across the ground.
"Knight of the Sea" Jinbe slowly drew back his fist, then turned to look at Buggy, whose injuries seemed superficial. His brow eased slightly.
The left half of Buggy leapt up joyfully, rejoining with the right half in midair.
"Jinbe! Thank goodness you're here! That guy's power totally counters mine!"
Counters you?
Jinbe tilted his head in mild confusion, but chose to play along out of courtesy.
"Very well, then. Leave this enemy to me."
"Great, great! He's all yours," Buggy said hastily, already scurrying away. "I'll handle the others—block the stairway so no one can come interfere!"
"Then I'll leave that to you," Jinbe replied with calm sincerity.
He watched Buggy and his men retreat before turning his attention back to Cracker.
Crackling noises filled the air as the shell of the biscuit soldier began to crumble away—revealing Cracker's true, muscular body within.
"I see," Jinbe murmured thoughtfully, stroking his broad chin. "So that rugged exterior was merely a disguise. The real Charlotte Cracker hides inside a false shell."
Even Alvida hadn't managed to uncover this secret; clearly, it was one of the more closely guarded truths of the Charlotte Family.
Cracker, now bare-chested with his long purple hair tied back, stood up slowly.
"That hurt… Former Warlord of the Sea—'Knight of the Sea' Jinbe… your punch really hurt."
He cast aside his biscuit shield completely, then lifted his massive double-edged sword, Pretzel, to rest it on his shoulder. His eyes locked onto the blue-skinned Fishman before him.
Jinbe rolled up his loose sleeves, assuming the formal stance of Fishman Karate.
"You bastard…" Cracker's eyes glowed red with fury. "Last night's raid… and the one this morning too. You're a fishman—so you must've had a hand in them!"
Jinbe nodded honestly. "In war, one side lives while the other dies. I chose the path that offered the best chance of victory—"
"Shut up!" Cracker roared before he could finish, rage clouding his judgment. He clapped his hands together violently, unleashing his Biscuit-Biscuit Fruit powers in a frenzy.
Instantly, countless biscuit soldiers appeared—each identical to his former, rugged form. They brandished sword and shield alike, charging toward Jinbe with murderous intent.
"Each clone imbued with Armament Haki, eh? You plan to overwhelm me with sheer numbers?" Jinbe observed quietly. "But that… is a mistake."
He sank into a deep, rooted stance, his body steady as a mountain.
"Fishman Karate: Whirling Water Shot!"
Water gathered between the webs of his palms, swirling and compressing into glowing orbs that gleamed like polished jade.
Then—he thrust his arms outward, firing them in all directions!
Streams of water shot out like bullets, piercing through the biscuit soldiers one after another. The battlefield was instantly filled with shattered crumbs and dust.
Having spread his Haki too thin among so many soldiers, Cracker was left panting heavily, exhaustion creeping up on him.
When he saw his "army" crumble so effortlessly, his breath caught in disbelief.
"To divide one's Haki among avatars works only when the enemy is close to your own strength," Jinbe said evenly. "Against me, that strategy gains you nothing."
He shook his head, assuming his stance again, calm and unhurried—watching, waiting for Cracker's next move.
"Tch!" Cracker growled in frustration. Tightening his grip on Pretzel, he leapt high into the air and brought the sword crashing down toward Jinbe in a massive overhead slash.
Jinbe crossed his arms, taking the strike head-on.
BOOM!
Their Armament Haki clashed, shrieking and grinding against each other—but Jinbe quickly gained the upper hand.
He shoved Cracker back with sheer force.
Cracker flipped through the air, landing and regaining his footing—then charged again, this time swinging Pretzel upward in a vicious diagonal slash.
Jinbe blocked it effortlessly with just his left forearm, pressing the blade down.
"You looking down on me?!" Cracker spat, his breath ragged.
Jinbe remained composed. "It's you who looks down on others."
Suddenly, Jinbe relaxed his arm—letting Cracker's sword swing forward with its own momentum.
Cracker froze for a split second in confusion—just enough time for Jinbe to slip under the blade, lowering his stance like a sumo wrestler closing in for a grapple.
In one smooth, fluid motion, he seized Cracker by the shoulders and hips.
Before Cracker could react, Jinbe pivoted, channeling his weight and strength into a single, seamless throw.
"Fishman Jujutsu: Rising Tide Over-Shoulder Throw!"
The move flowed like water—graceful yet devastating.
Cracker was hurled over Jinbe's shoulder and slammed into the ground with thunderous force, the impact cracking the fortress floor into a web of fractures.
Cracker's vision swam. His body screamed in pain.
Before he could catch his breath, Jinbe loomed over him, fists clenched. Then, like a storm of iron rain, the blows began to fall.
"Fishman Karate Secret Technique: Demon Tile Punch!"
Both fists, hardened by Armament Haki, crashed into Cracker's face over and over.
Even as one of the Three Sweet Commanders, Cracker could not endure it.
Pain wracked his body. He raised his arms to defend himself, even dropping Pretzel in desperation.
But Jinbe gave him no quarter.
Each strike was relentless—flowing, unstoppable, like waves eroding stone.
He shattered Cracker's Armament Haki defense first, then softened and broke his biscuit armor entirely—stripping away every last layer of protection.
The fortress floor beneath them gave way, splintering apart as they crashed downward!
They fell through the air—Cracker already half-conscious, battered beyond recognition.
Yet Jinbe, still unsatisfied, stepped off the falling debris, diving after him.
He caught Cracker midair—and hurled him down once more with a crushing throw.
BAM!
The ground caved in, forming a massive crater.
Cracker lay sprawled in the center, limbs splayed, bloodied and broken. It was unclear which of his bones remained intact—if any.
"Damn…" he gasped through the blood in his throat, voice trembling. "To think… I'd lose… like this…"
So this… is the true strength of an ex-Warlord…?
Even as a Sweet Commander, he couldn't muster the will to move, overcome by terror and disbelief.
Then—footsteps approached the edge of the crater. Someone stopped there silently.
Cracker assumed it was Jinbe, but the silence dragged on. Curious, he shifted his eyes—and to his surprise, saw another figure.
It was his subordinate, Bobbin.
A flicker of hope lit in Cracker's eyes. He croaked weakly, "B… Bobbin… help me up… Mama… the others… they'll be here soon…"
If he could just reunite with Big Mom, Katakuri, and Smoothie—he might still be saved.
He could recover, even if he lost his title as a Sweet Commander.
As long as he lived, he could rise again.
The only unforgivable outcome would be death—like the fallen Snack, the former fourth Sweet Commander. Death meant nothingness, no future at all.
Cracker glanced at Bobbin again. If this useless fool saves me now, he thought bitterly, I'll at least consider him somewhat useful. Having a subordinate willing to die for you still means something.
But Bobbin hesitated, staring nervously for a moment—then turned and ran.
Ran…?
He ran away?!
Cracker's eyes widened in disbelief. Bobbin… disobeyed my order? Left me to die?
Why? Why?! WHY?!
"It seems," Jinbe said as he approached, "that in the eyes of your subordinates, you were never much of a good man."
He stopped beside the crater, looking down at the defeated commander.
"If there's a next life, perhaps you'll come to understand what 'benevolence and righteousness' mean—even among pirates."
"Wait…" Cracker rasped weakly, his face pale.
But Jinbe did not listen. He raised his hand high—and brought it down upon Cracker's skull.
Crack.
A dull, final sound echoed through the ruins—marking the end of Charlotte Cracker.
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