Chapter 115: The Battle of Left and Right Hands

That very night, Donquixote Doflamingo appeared at the harbor, carrying the barely alive Moria and the now light-sensitive Bellamy. Upon seeing Teach return empty-handed, he sneered, “Let them escape? Looks like your position as a Shichibukai is in jeopardy!”

“Ha ha ha! A sudden upward current swept their entire group all the way to Skypiea. I could only wait for them on the next island,” Teach replied nonchalantly.

“Teach, let’s discuss our business,” Doflamingo said.

Blackbeard didn’t answer directly but instead inquired about Absalom’s whereabouts. “You let that invisible guy escape? What a pity. That’s a power I’ve long coveted!”

Though Doflamingo knew he meant the Clear-Clear Fruit, he was somewhat puzzled by the whole sentence. Changing the subject, he said, “Just two little pests; I let them go deliberately. The World Government wouldn’t want to publicly acknowledge Buffon’s strength or his deeds, so someone has to leak information.”

“So the Navy didn’t send you to catch Moria?” Teach caught the crucial point in his words immediately.

“Yes, they told me Moria’s whereabouts just to see what he might reveal.”

“Ha ha ha! What are you going to do with Moria then?” Blackbeard pressed on.

Doflamingo glanced at Teach, a sinister smile playing on his lips. “No matter what, I’ll torture him to death first. He’d better release Bellamy’s shadow. Though Bellamy’s useless, he still flies under my flag!”

Upon hearing this, Teach laughed heartily. “Then I’ll help you deal with him first, as a token of our cooperation!”

……

Meanwhile, Buffon and his crew waited at the lighthouse beneath Inverted Mountain for the Germa 66 to deliver their battle suits.

Under Abyss’s coordination, Lab floated obediently by the shore, allowing Buffon to tattoo the Juventus Pirates’ emblem on its massive head.

Reiju was reading a newspaper recently delivered by the newsbird, while Abyss, on Buffon’s orders, communicated with the newsbird to gather intelligence.

Moments later, Reiju approached Buffon from behind, newspaper in hand. “Looks like your fight in Alabasta was for nothing.”

Without turning, Buffon replied, “Defeating Crocodile counts as the Straw Hat’s credit, and all other honors go to the Navy, I suppose?”

“Almost. The missing official records also get pinned on the Straw Hats!” Reiju smiled.

“The World Government still cares about its image. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be chased around by just a few admirals,” Buffon said seriously.

At that moment, a pirate ship slowly approached them.

Spotting its appearance and the flag it flew, Kurokas, who was reading the paper on the lighthouse, adjusted his glasses and smirked, “Looks like Buffon’s in trouble!”

He shouted to the group onshore, “Buffon! Your creditors have arrived!”

At that call, the crew instinctively thought the Marines—like Kizaru—had caught up. But Buffon looked up, half amused, half exasperated. “They really came to collect a debt. Baccio, stay behind. Everyone else get inside Lab’s body.”

Although Buffon wasn’t afraid of Red-Haired Shanks, he didn’t know their intentions. Every member aboard Shanks’ ship was formidable, especially the officers, some rivaling admirals. Better to be safe.

Following orders, the crew swiftly entered Lab’s body. Only Betty stood outside, holding the ship’s flag as if nothing were happening.

Soon, Kurokas joined Buffon. “Buffon, if that Shanks kid tries to kill you, want me to speak up for you?”

Buffon recalled they were both former Roger Pirates and that Kurokas’s role as ship doctor gave him higher standing than any crew member on Shanks’ ship. Still, Buffon had no plans to ask him to intervene.

In his view, Shanks’ purpose was clear: to reclaim his severed arm. Words wouldn’t help; a fight was inevitable. Whether it would be a life-or-death battle or a friendly spar depended on Shanks.

As the Red Force approached, the sailors began furling the sails. Shanks’s voice carried from afar, “Dr. Kurokas, good to see you well!”

“Red-Haired boy, how does a Yonko find time to visit an old geezer like me?” Kurokas replied.

Shanks’s gaze landed on Buffon. “I came to see what kind of genius doctor could sew my severed arm onto a zombie!”

His bluntness eased Buffon’s tension.

Before the ship fully docked, Shanks jumped down, carrying a wine jug. He tossed it over, then sat cross-legged opposite Buffon. “Let me see that zombie!”

As he spoke, masked Baccio drew his katana, Senbonzakura, and slowly approached Shanks.

“Looks like a real fighter,” Shanks smiled, drawing his sword and standing.

“Then let me see if you live up to the reputation of my left arm,” Shanks declared.

With that, he launched a fierce slash at Baccio.

Unfazed, Baccio executed the Dragon-Slaying One-Strike Flash, swiftly moving behind Shanks.

“Not bad. Again!” Shanks countered with another slash wave—this time, the energy changed from white to black.

“Haoshoku Haki,” whispered Kurokas.

Baccio’s reaction lagged; he could only block the attack.

The slash wave pushed him back over ten meters before he stopped. He switched his sword to his left hand and unleashed eight consecutive strikes, aiming at different parts of Shanks’s body.

“An ultimate move? Let me see how powerful these eight cuts are.”

Shanks lightly twirled his blade, effortlessly deflecting all eight strikes.

“The strength of a Yonko is truly formidable!” Betty, who had appeared beside Buffon, remarked.

“If you help him sew that arm back on, the Navy will have a real headache,” Kurokas said mischievously.

Buffon shook his head slightly. “There’s no way it’ll go back—unless…”

After deflecting the eight strikes, Shanks suddenly accelerated and appeared in front of Baccio. Probably finding the long-distance exchange dull, he sought a close-quarters duel.

Just as Baccio wanted, his ultimate move, the Eight-Blade Punishment, was suited for close combat.

Their swords clashed repeatedly, each collision sending shockwaves rippling outward, the scene thrilling and intense.

At that moment, a green-clad, portly man named Lucky Roo jumped down from the Red Force. He approached Buffon slowly. “Captain Buffon, right? That’s not how a pirate who killed a Celestial Dragon should treat guests.”

He shook a chicken leg down to the bone in his hand as he spoke.

“Not sure if friend or foe…”

Before Buffon could finish, Vice Captain Beckman leapt down and called to Buffon, “We’ve brought fine liquor. Friend or foe, we’ll know after a drink, won’t we?”

Buffon found no argument and dove into the sea. Moments later, he rose atop Lab with a sea king in hand.

Lab opened his giant mouth, and the Juventus crew emerged.

Seeing Shanks and Baccio locked in a fierce duel, Franky exclaimed dramatically, “Baccio can fight a Yonko? Then Buffon, what about you?”

Behind him, Sauron nodded seriously, “Shanks fights using both left and right hands. The outcome is his own to decide!”

The Red Hair Pirates burst out laughing. “Ha ha ha! Let’s see whether the captain’s left or right hand is stronger!”

Lily, noticing the sea king in Buffon’s hand, knew what came next.

With perfect coordination, one lit a fire while the other prepared the food. Soon, a simple but hearty grilled sea beast feast was laid before them.

Lucky Roo pounced on the food, devouring skewer after skewer. Inspired by him, the Red Hair crew eagerly joined in, drinking and eating without reservation.

Only Beckman stood beside Buffon, slowly asking, “Captain Buffon, if Captain Shanks wants his arm back, can your ability perfectly reattach it?”

Buffon nodded silently.

He wasn’t sure if Beckman’s question was a threat or had another meaning.

Unexpectedly, Beckman changed tone, joking, “But that 100 Beli medical fee—you’ll have to get it from the Straw Hat kid!”

Caught off guard by the remark, Buffon didn’t know how to respond. Fortunately, Reiju stepped forward, asking, “Vice Captain Beckman, if Marines show up, what’s your stance?”

Beckman gave a cold smile. “The Marines? Until Captain Shanks decides, no one interferes.”

He instinctively rested his right hand on the flintlock pistol at his waist.

Shanks suddenly shouted, “No more fighting, let’s drink first!”

Sheathing his sword, he strode toward the group. Baccio’s poised strike hovered just above Shanks’s left shoulder.

Whether Baccio intentionally stopped or not was unclear.

After Shanks walked away, Baccio’s unfinished strike fell, carving a slash into the ground.

In his heart, Baccio thought, “I’m still far from being a Yonko. I wonder how Captain Buffon’s fight with him will go?”