Chapter Text
i.
Law is a tactical man. He kills and occasionally saves with a precision that was drilled into him from a young age, but always with an end goal in mind. Law doesn’t work for himself. Though, most of the time he goes his own way, unimpeded by the demands of his family, but there was still the overlaying influence of his employer―guardian, as Doflamingo put it. He doesn’t buy his own weapons all that often. The silver sniper rifle that he lovingly dubs Bepo was a gift from a man long dead, though it’s usually Doflamingo who upgrades the tech and funds Law’s methods with a direct hand.
Staring down the scope his rifle, Law takes a deep breath. He had prepared himself for this excursion, and the allotted time given to him to kill the president of some underground drug company was coming to an end. It would all be over soon.
He had perched himself up on the top floor of a empty building. Inside, there were abandoned desks and chairs, papers haphazardly strewn across the floor, and Law wonders what made these people run so fast. The building used to be a newspaper firm, an outdated source of media that couldn’t compete with the Vegapunk holopads or instant transmissions via satellite. When Law had researched the building, wanting to find the most inconspicuous sniper nest possible, there was nothing out of the ordinary, but the disarray that the offices were left in seemed to tell a different story. When he finishes with the mission, Law decides to do some extra recon.
“Polar Tang, come in. What is your status on Operation Blaze It?”
Penguin’s voice crackles in his ear and Law holds back a sigh. “Mission is in progress. Please stand-by for the final report.”
Law doesn’t hear what Penguin says after that, pressing the small blue mute button on the metal cuff over his left wrist. The car that holds the president is approaching at a faster speed than he had calculated, but it wasn’t enough to prevent Law from killing him. He carefully raises Bepo, crouching down and taking a deep breath, one gloved finger curling around the trigger. When the car enters his scope, the president’s grim face covered by a telling X, Law shoots.
The car swerves, the window to the side of the president bursting apart. Law can vaguely see the slouching figure, the blood that trickles down his temple; and with a quick snapshot of the scene, Law quickly tucks Bepo into the gym bag he had brought along and travels further into the building, racing toward the exit.
His heart is calm as he sneaks out the exit, and his face is covered by the black hood of his coat. Law looks twice at the commotion, forcing his expression to evolve into one of horror in order to fit in with the crowd of people that swarm the president’s idle car even though he’s nowhere in their line of sight. It was a precaution that he usually took in case a camera caught him―highly unlikely as it was.
“Polar Tang, report.”
Law grimaces. He hates playing along with Penguin’s games. “Blaze It has passed,” he says, clenching his jaw as Penguin’s laughs fill the mic. “I’m going home after I investigate the old newspaper firm.”
Penguin goes quiet, and Law can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “What’s wrong? Did you find a grammatical error in one of the discarded articles? Plus, it isn’t a good idea to go back there. What if Blaze It’s friends figured you out?”
Holding himself back from rolling his eyes, Law takes a sharp turn out of the alleyway that he had been lurking in and holds his gym bag close. He can’t respond to Penguin without bringing attention to himself, so he holds back a retort and makes a beeline for the hotel that he booked earlier that month.
It takes about forty minutes before Law’s in the sanctuary of his own room. It’s a high-end hotel, provided to him by one of Doflamingo’s retainer, so he knows that the chances of it being bugged are fairly low, but that doesn’t stop him for doing a thorough lookover of the room.
“Are you done being paranoid, boss? Honestly, I know you’ve been holding back on a life-shattering retort for the last forty minutes, just say it.”
“Penguin, go try and feel useful somewhere else other than the comm booth. Put Baby Five on for all I care, just go do some work,” Law snaps, gently setting the bag with Bepo in it on the table, still in his reach. He then grabs the edge of his sheet and yanks it back so that the fabric isn't tucked under the mattress.
He hears Penguin suck in a deep breath, and can imagine the look of faux pain on his face. “Now that you got that off your chest, allow me to inform you of your next mission: Operation Tender Meat."
Law collapses on the bed and runs a hand through his hair. He wants to take the mic out so he doesn’t have to hear Penguin speak, but the prospect of another mission is too inviting, even if the name is as strange as the last. “Do share since I apparently never get a break anymore.”
Penguin tells him of the recent underground events; about how the Dragon Clan, Doflamingo’s rival, had been picking up in activity and had become more violent than ever. There had been a string of assassinations, especially near their base in Rio de Janeiro, that had included several men that aligned themselves with Doflamingo and that was unacceptable. The Dragon Clan is supposedly heavy on the firepower and strength and lazy on the stealth, a weakness that Law can exploit to the fullest. Law’s target wears a mask that looks like a lion and dons a straw hat, Penguin tells him, and he is easily identifiable due to his sloppy style of killing.
“He uses crude weapons: knives and old pistols, but most of all, Meat uses his fists the most.”
Law frowns, slipping a pocket knife from his jeans and absentmindedly tossing it about. “You want me to waste my time on a brute? Where’s the fun in that? He’ll just go down yelling and then I’ll get a migraine.”
Penguin sucks in a breath. At first, Law thinks it’s because he’s nervous, but when he listens closer and can hear the fast, soft breaths coming from the other end of the line, Law realizes that Penguin is excited.
“Don’t underestimate him, boss. This is the guy that unseated Arlong, Crocodile, and fucking murdered a Celestial Dragon. He’s crazy, completely bat-shit, and you’re in for the mission of a lifetime,” Penguin breathes out.
Quickly glancing at Bepo, Law feels himself smile. His free hand curls up into a fist as he stares up at the ceiling. He knows who Penguin is talking about now. Law would have to be a fool to not know his target, especially when Tender Meat had risen in the ranks faster than anyone before him. Law’s heart races at the thought of being able to watch the son of the crime lord Dragon fall to the ground, by own his hand and gun. The opportunity to strengthen and empower his own name was too great to pass up.
“When do I leave?” Law asks, his fingers stretching out and tapping a soft beat on the bed. “I need to stop by headquarters to get the proper assault gear and wear.” Getting to ‘Meat’ would be more difficult than killing him. “I also need the intel on the base and family. Don’t expect me to walk in there blind.”
Penguin is silent for a moment, which makes Law’s anger toward Doflamingo and his pride rise. “We only have so much intel on the Dragon Clan. This mission is dangerous for more than its target. We’re under-prepared, but you can easily compensate for our failings.”
With a sharp movement, the pocket knife embeds itself to the wall in front of Law. “Butter me up, why don’t you?” he says, hopping to his feet and retrieving the knife. “I’ll do it, but when I kill Dragon’s kid, I get to keep his head.”
There was a chuckle from the other end of the line. “Whatever makes you fall asleep at night.”