The Shock-Shock Fruit on Whitebeard's fist, the Armament Haki on Roger's blade, Larson's Susanoo, and Rayleigh's longsword all struck towards the black shadow simultaneously.
If there were ever an intense and powerful set of attacks, this was it—one that no one in the world could possibly withstand.
Being closer now, Larson could finally see the black figure clearly for the first time.
How to describe it?
The black shadow could literally be called a shadow—its entire body dark, as if a spirit had taken form from pure darkness.
But no matter what it was, as long as it dared to take on their combined attack, it would die today.
However, just as Larson's attack was about to land, the shadow passed through their bodies as if it were nothing but air.
Larson and the others' strikes seemed to hit nothing. When they reacted, the black figure had already bypassed them and stood before Marco.
"Not good!"
At that moment, everyone realized just how extraordinary this shadow was.
Especially Larson—when the shadow appeared, he had activated the Sharingan to deprive and copy its abilities.
But the result was the same, like using his power on thin air.
The shadow wasn't affected, and Larson didn't copy any of its abilities.
In other words, all of the shadow's powers may not have come from a Devil Fruit at all.
Because of their high-speed movements, Roger and Whitebeard were still caught in their attacking stance, unable to turn around quickly enough to deal with the threat behind them.
Only Larson had the ability to act!
Suddenly, the golden Susanoo extended an arm from behind Larson. The enormous hand reached out to grab the black shadow, trying to restrict its movements. Yet, when Susanoo touched it, the hand passed right through!
Larson missed his opportunity, but he didn't give up. A giant sword appeared in Susanoo's other hand, and he swung it toward the shadow. Thanks to Marco's powers, Larson wasn't worried about injuring him, and with Marco blocking Shanks, Shanks wouldn't be harmed either.
The giant sword fell, but the result was the same as before. The massive blade sliced through the shadow without making contact.
What surprised Larson most was that the black figure didn't even seem to acknowledge them—it only had eyes for Marco and Shanks.
No matter how many attacks Larson launched, the shadow made no effort to retaliate.
Maybe it knew Larson's attacks couldn't harm it.
Now, the shadow had reached Marco. At this distance, even if Larson and the others wanted to save him, it was already too late.
Marco, eyes tightly shut, was unaware of what had transpired in the blink of an eye. But Shanks, still pulled along by him, saw everything.
Shanks' eyes widened in alarm. He wanted to warn Marco to move, but it was too late.
Marco, having failed to avoid the shadow twice before, knew that his speed wasn't enough. The moment the shadow appeared, he had already resigned himself to getting hit.
To him, even if he took the blow, it wouldn't be fatal. It would be strong and painful, but nothing he couldn't endure. He gritted his teeth and prepared himself.
But what surprised Marco this time was that the shadow felt different. The previous two times ended with a hit, but this time he felt real pain.
Could the shadow have started using weapons?
Fortunately, Marco felt reassured when he recognized a familiar impact.
Ah!
That familiar sensation.
The familiar way he landed.
Both were exactly the same as the previous two times.
Marco was completely used to it now, feeling no concern at all. After the earlier encounters, he was practically comfortable this time around.
But Shanks didn't see it that way.
"Damn it!"
He looked at Marco, still calm with his eyes shut, and felt an urge to slap him awake. What Shanks couldn't wrap his head around was why Marco, after being hit, looked so satisfied!
Oh my god, had he been hit so hard that he was knocked senseless?
As the ground rapidly approached, Shanks suddenly felt a wave of panic.
It might be fine for Marco to fall on the ground—after all, he has his Devil Fruit powers—but Shanks doesn't!
If Shanks fell from a height of over 20 meters, even if it didn't kill him, he'd definitely be in pain for a while.
Luckily, just as Shanks was plummeting, a man appeared beneath him. Shanks let out a sigh of relief when he recognized the familiar face.
It was Gaban.
Gaban caught the falling Shanks with ease, completely ignoring Marco. Maybe he figured Marco's toughness would keep him safe, even from a fall.
"Ouch."
Marco rubbed his backside as he stood up. "So, did you see anything clearly?"
After getting back on his feet, he instinctively looked around for Larson but couldn't spot him after scanning twice.
Just then, he noticed that Shanks and Gaban were looking up at the sky. Following their gaze, Marco saw Larson and Whitebeard descending slowly above them.
When Larson finally landed, Marco wanted to ask him what was going on, but he quickly noticed that both Larson and Whitebeard had sour expressions on their faces. Sensing the mood, Marco decided to stay silent.
"It feels really strange. Even though I was right in front of it, it was as if nothing was there," Roger said, frowning.
Rayleigh and Whitebeard both nodded in agreement. They had experienced the same bizarre sensation.
"Haha, I really didn't expect anyone to be this difficult to handle."
There was a dangerous gleam in Whitebeard's eyes.
Clearly, he was furious.
This was the first time Whitebeard had ever encountered such resistance since he set sail, and it was even more infuriating that it happened while he was teamed up with Roger and Rayleigh.
He couldn't comprehend how anyone had the ability to make all of them feel so powerless.
"I think I've figured something out."
Larson's sudden statement shocked everyone.
What?
When everyone else was still fuming, had Larson actually solved it?
Didn't that just make everyone else look like fools?
But they were used to Larson's cryptic ways by now.
"Out with it—tell me, who the hell is that person!" Whitebeard demanded, his patience wearing thin.
But instead of giving a straight answer, Larson shook his head. "Maybe… that person doesn't exist."
"Doesn't exist?"
"This…"
"Yes, it doesn't exist," Larson repeated, his expression resolute.