Buggy's True Several Thousand Hands and Bodhisattva's Final Verdict were nothing short of overwhelming.
The battlefield fell silent. Fighters on both sides hesitated, their hands frozen in place, stunned by the sheer magnitude of the technique. No one dared move, fearing they might get caught in the storm of divine fists crashing from the heavens.
Yet while the world stood in awe, the Buggy Pirates remained unfazed.
They had seen this before. This wasn't new to them. It was terrifying, but familiar.
All eyes turned toward Kong, still trapped between the Buddha's massive palms. Many instinctively extended their Observation Haki, searching for a trace of his presence.
What they found changed everything.
Shock spread like wildfire.
On the Marine side, disbelief rippled across the ranks.
"I can't sense Commander Kong's aura!"
"No... that can't be. Someone check again!"
"Why is he not breathing?!"
"This has to be a mistake! Commander Kong awakened a Mythical Zoan! Even weakened, he should still be at Admiral level!"
"He's dead...? Commander Kong... is really gone?"
Panic gripped their voices. Denial twisted their expressions.
Across the sea, on the island of the Supernova Alliance, chaos broke out as pirates scrambled to process what they had just witnessed.
Even Kidd, always cocky and brash, stood slack-jawed.
"This is how far it's come? Damn it... What the hell is that clown made of?!"
"Is this really the first death of a top-tier combatant in this war?"
"None of us expected the Pan Fleet Admiral of the World Government to fall this easily. Even with his strength fading, Kong was still on par with the Admirals. It's not that Kong was weak. It's that Buggy is a monster."
"Living in the same era as that man... It's hard to say whether it's a blessing or a curse."
"And don't forget. He killed one of the Five Elders, too. If you count Green Bull, that's three Admiral-level beings eliminated by him alone."
"Not to mention the fall of two Yonko-tier forces."
Every pirate present was reeling. The sheer scale of what Buggy had done was mind-bending.
Even scarier? He hadn't even used his full power. Only one Devil Fruit ability had been shown. No second awakening. No hint of fatigue.
The World Government was being dismantled by a man operating on an entirely different level of power. No strategy could stop it. No counterattack. No resistance.
Atop the Red Line, the Marines still standing were suffocating under the weight of that truth.
And those who had remained at Marine Headquarters, too low-ranked to be deployed, now thanked their luck in silence.
Nearly every Marine watching the broadcast shared the same thought.
Thank God I wasn't sent to the Holy Land.
They had all seen the fate of the God's Punishment Army. And judging from the destruction raining from the sky, Vice Admirals and Rear Admirals would have been slaughtered instantly.
Those at headquarters who had delayed their departure due to Vice Admiral Tsuru's warnings now silently offered her their gratitude.
Had they gone, the Marines' entire remaining force would have been annihilated.
Vice Admiral Tsuru... is this what you predicted?
Several officers took a breath of relief, only to feel the creeping weight of shame follow.
The shame of retreat. The pity of surviving by doing nothing.
But Buggy? He wasn't finished.
With Kong's body still suspended between the clasped palms of the wooden Buddha, he extended his hand casually.
Without a word, he drew forth the power, trying to escape Kong. And just like that, the ability of the awakened White Tiger Zoan was stripped from his corpse.
The final humiliation.
Buggy, the Godslayer, had not only defeated Kong. He had snatched his devil fruit.
Blueno, who had been quietly watching Buggy's movements, acted without a word.
A portal shimmered open beside Buggy, space warping in an instant.
With a flick of his wrist, Buggy tossed the glowing white sphere through the gate.
Blueno caught an apple in his hand and calmly hurled it in after the sphere.
"The Zoan Cat-Cat Fruit, White Tiger Form. Stored," he said to himself, as the fruit vanished into the vault of Pluton.
He returned without ceremony, standing near the edge of the battlefield, watching silently, waiting for the next moment he would be needed.
Blueno knew his role. He wasn't a frontliner. His strength lay in his ability, and he wouldn't waste stamina on unnecessary combat.
For the past two years, he had pushed his Door-Door Fruit to its absolute limit. Practice had turned into mastery. His stamina had increased, his physique hardened, and with every new application of the fruit's power, he grew closer to a vision he kept to himself.
A world connected by doors.
A world where every fragmented island, every isolated sea, every boundary was linked.
It had once been a fantasy, something he never voiced aloud. But now, under Buggy's banner, the fantasy had started to feel real.
He believed, with all conviction, that the man he followed would make that world possible.
When the clash with Kong ended, Buggy didn't linger.
He placed Kong's body atop the roof of a tall building. It was not kindness, not mercy, but a gesture of acknowledgement. Then he turned to his allies and nodded once.
"Let's move. We'll leave the cleanup to the others. It's time we visited the four old men. I'm curious what kind of surprise they've prepared."
Shanks, his crew and Buggy's crew exchanged small grins. Without a word, they followed.
They crossed through the front half of the Holy Land. Each step brought them closer to the heart of the world's power.
Pangaea Castle loomed ahead.
A vast, ancient structure, rising like a monolith from the sacred earth. Its walls glimmered under the fading sky, untouched by time or mercy.
As it came into view, Shanks, Redfield, and Dragon all paused.
Their expressions sharpened.
"That castle..." Shanks muttered, narrowing his eyes. "It gives me a feeling I haven't had in a long time. Something's wrong."
"You too?" Redfield's voice was unusually low. "That pressure... It's not normal."
Dragon's gaze remained steady. "Same here."
Hawkeye's lips tightened. He said nothing, but his sword hand dropped just slightly, reflexively.
Hancock stood tall, one hand resting on her hip. She didn't look toward the castle. Her chin remained high. Cold. Regal.
Whatever fear she once held toward the Celestial Dragons had long since turned to disgust.
That day on Egghead Island, when she killed one of the Knights of God with her own hands, the shackles she carried inside finally shattered. Her Haki had surged since then, breaking into a new realm.
Even here, in the heart of their ancient stronghold, she felt no fear.
Only fury.
For her, the pressure oozing from Pangaea Castle meant nothing. Her killing intent burned hotter. It drowned out the unease.
"I guess Imu and those four Elders have been busy," Buggy said, his voice light. "I wonder what party tricks they've got left."
His tone was calm. Casual. As if strolling through a battlefield was no different from walking through a market square.
To him, there was nothing left to fear.
The World Government had already begun to fall. The highest pillars of its command had shattered one after another.
Buggy looked around as they walked, as if sightseeing.
This stretch of the Red Line, once a symbol of divine privilege, looked pitiful now.
So much space. So much power. All wasted on parasites.
According to the maps he'd studied, the Red Line wrapped around the world like a ring like an unbroken barrier separating oceans, people, and freedom.
Even from afar, the sheer size of Mary Geoise was staggering. The section of the Red Line it occupied stretched on endlessly, its scale a reminder of just how much power and luxury had been hoarded here for centuries.
No wonder the Sun God Kingdom once made this continent its political and economic capital over a thousand years ago. The land itself exuded grandeur, shaped by old money and ancient dominance.
Buggy looked around, exhaling with a small shake of his head.
Such opulence. Such artistry in the design. So many towering villas carved from white stone, lavish beyond comprehension. It felt almost criminal to destroy them all.
"If we cleaned this place up and turned it into a luxury resort…" he muttered. "The income would be insane."
Shanks, walking beside him, turned with a puzzled look. "Did you just sigh? What's that about?"
Buggy shrugged. "These Celestial Dragon villas. It's kind of a shame to flatten all of them. They're extravagant enough to be worth something."
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, the crew behind him broke out in laughter.
"You're already treating their property like it's yours?" Crocodile shouted between laughs.
"As expected of Buggy!"
"Only you would mourn the loss of your future vacation homes before the fight even starts!"
Buggy chuckled along with them, but his eyes remained on the looming shadow ahead.
They had arrived.
The gates of Pangaea Castle stood before them, tall and cold and ancient. A monument to a crumbling world.
Behind them, the colossal form of Pluton hovered in the sky, watching over them like a god of war. At Buggy's instruction, it remained ten kilometres back, far enough to stay clear of the main broadcast zone.
On its decks stood Uta, Robin, Stussy, and Tezolo. Katakuri and the remaining members of the Charlotte family had also stayed behind after the earlier rescue, choosing to witness the final confrontation unfold.
All eyes, both on the battlefield and across the world through the live broadcast, turned to the screen.
And what they saw next left even the most hardened warriors frozen.
Standing before the gates of Pangaea Castle was not just Buggy's group.
Facing them, solemn and unyielding, were four figures the world knew all too well. Ju, Mars, Warcury, and Nusjuro. The remaining Four Elders of the Five.
But to their left stood a crew that sent a different kind of chill down the spine.
The Blackbeard Pirates.
Their presence wasn't exactly surprising. The World Government had grown desperate enough to forge alliances with any force that could slow Buggy's advance. Pirates were no longer enemies. They were tools.
But it was the right side of the Elders that drew the most shocked gasps.
Three unfamiliar figures stood shoulder to shoulder, each radiating an aura that screamed danger.
The first was tall and lean, with spiky white hair that rose like a crown of thorns.
The second was broader, his beard short and coarse, eyes hidden beneath a furrowed brow.
The third was the most imposing. Dragon-white hair flowed down his back. A cigar hung from his lips, and he held two blades with a casual grip that betrayed deadly experience.
All three had massive black wings, unfurled and silent. In the centre of each pair of wings, a ball of orange-red flame burned like a miniature sun.
They were unfamiliar, yet something about them stirred memory.
Katakuri, standing aboard Pluton, leaned in for a closer look. His face paled. His eyes widened.
Then he stood, his chair scraping back, knocking over the drink beside him.
"No way..." he breathed. "It can't be."
Bree blinked up at him. "Big brother Katakuri, you recognise them?"
Uta and the others turned, watching him closely now.
Katakuri didn't answer immediately. His lips moved soundlessly. He was replaying memories from decades ago. Piecing together legends and half-whispered truths.
Men who had vanished.
Monsters once thought erased by time.
If those three were truly who he thought they were…
Katakuri's voice dropped, rough with disbelief as he uttered the names that once shook the world to its core.
"Captain of the Rocks Pirates... Rocks D. Xebec.
Captain of the Roger Pirates... Gol D. Roger.
And the Flying Pirate himself... Golden Lion Shiki."
He narrowed his eyes, the weight of what he was saying settling in his chest like a stone.
"This... this is the World Government's final card? Unbelievable."
For a heartbeat, the entire world fell silent.
The live broadcasts, the battlefield, even the wind across the Red Line seemed to be still. No one spoke. No one moved.
It was as if time itself had stopped to absorb the sheer gravity of what had just been revealed.
---
A.N: Here's something to chew on…
If future technology allowed clones to replicate a person's talent with 80–90% accuracy, would society still nurture new talent? Or would we become a culture obsessed with duplication, where originality fades under the weight of near-perfection?
Now imagine this: governments get involved.
What starts as innovation could become control. Instead of nurturing potential, regimes might mass-produce "approved" artists, athletes, or thinkers. Clones are loyal and skilled through sheer duplication. What room is left for rebellion, risk, or raw genius?
Would humans still chase greatness… if your clone, monitored and licensed by the state, could reach it faster?
---
Enjoyed the chapter?
You can read 40k words ahead and gain exclusive access to even more content over at P*treon.c*m/Marioni! Also, there's a poll live now and pinned on Patreon!
Help shape the direction of my next fanfiction project. Even if your vote matters little to your government, it actually matters here! Democracy lives on… in fan fiction. 😌