Compared to Redfield's rising anxiety, Buggy remained composed.
As a colossal palm loomed in the sky, descending from hundreds of meters above, Buggy stood still. A radiant blue glow pulsed from his body as he calmly spoke:
"Ryuu Armament: Wooden Dragon Spear."
At his command, three massive wooden dragons entwined around the Wooden Golem stirred. Their forms ignited in black-gold flames, each coil sheathed in crackling, violet-black Conqueror's Haki.
The dragons looked alive. They breathed in rhythm, inhaling black fire and exhaling golden sparks. Purple lightning danced across their scales. It felt as though true dragons had awakened to descend on the battlefield.
An instant later, the dragons surged forward with violent momentum.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Three towering Wooden Golems, each gripping a dragon by the tail, lifted the spears like warriors preparing to strike. In perfect unison, they launched into the sky using Geppō, kicking off the air itself.
With unstoppable force, they hurled the flaming dragons upward, straight toward the falling palm.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Shockwaves rolled through the clouds. The massive palm, so heavy it distorted the sky, was held at bay for a few seconds. The heavens trembled.
From the ground, cheers erupted.
"He did it!"
"Captain Buggy is unreal!"
But the joy didn't last.
Though the palm had stalled, it was still there. Cracks spread across its surface, but the sheer pressure it exerted had not disappeared. It remained a weight on the world.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Up above, the wooden dragons began to fracture. Cracks rippled through their bodies. The flames dimmed. Sparks burst from the joints of the Wooden Golems.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The dragons and Golems burst apart, their fragments raining from the sky in a storm of broken wood and charred debris.
"Even that wasn't enough?"
"Shanks, get ready!"
"Wait. If Buggy doesn't give the word, we don't move."
"He's not done. You think that was everything?" Dragon's voice rang out, low but firm.
"You're forgetting something."
The crowd fell silent. Eyes turned to him.
"You've been dazzled by the Mori Mori no mi. But that's not the ability that made Buggy a legend."
Realization dawned. The Chop-Chop Fruit. Not once had Buggy used it in this war.
Whispers spread through the ranks. Was he testing himself? Holding back? Waiting?
Everyone turned to him again.
Buggy hadn't flinched. He stood exactly where he had started. His expression was calm, unreadable. The destruction of the Golems didn't seem to matter.
He raised one hand, palm open to the sky.
"Ryuu Armament: Avalokitesvara."
The blue glow around his body surged upward, pouring into the crown of the Wooden Buddha behind him. The statue stirred.
A thousand arms spread out from its back. Each arm burned with black-gold fire and crackled with violet lightning. The air shook with their awakening.
Then they launched.
All thousand.
Each arm became a projectile of divine power, hurtling upward like a dragon in flight. Fire trailed behind them. Lightning wrapped around them. They screamed toward the heavens in a coordinated storm of destruction.
The battlefield stood still. Only now did they understand.
Buggy had never been limited to a few hundred arms. He had chosen restraint. Until this moment.
This was the full power of his awakened Mori Mori no Mi.
Everyone is nervously staring at the giant palm in the sky!
In the distance, Imu, normally composed and unreadable, showed a rare shift in expression. For the first time, something had pierced through their confidence. They felt it clearly now: a force not born of spectacle or illusion, but something real.
A thousand colossal wooden arms surged upward. Each one, crackling with violet-black Haki and black-gold flame, rose like a dragon made of rooted earth. They twisted through the air before slamming into the descending palm above. The impact shattered the stillness of the sky.
Thunder roared. A blast of wind surged outward.
Clouds split apart, torn open by the sheer pressure. On the battlefield, fighters staggered backward as the shockwave rolled through. Even those positioned far from the center were forced to shield themselves. Dust flew, and debris spun through the air. That force was only the aftershock. No one present dared imagine what the core of the collision had felt like.
The most astonishing part was not the noise or the wind. It was the sight of the massive palm, the one that had blotted out the sun, beginning to shrink. Under the endless barrage of strikes, its structure began to collapse. The sky-towering hand buckled, broken apart by wooden fists that rained down like judgment.
Dozens of Buggy's arms shattered in the effort, but it didn't matter. This was the true Thousand-Arms formation. Buggy's perfected Senju Technique was not bound by limits. Destroy ten arms, and ten more formed in their place. Shatter a hundred, and a hundred more returned. The forest did not die. The assault did not weaken.
As long as Buggy's stamina and Haki endured, the power behind the Senju Buddha would not diminish. And there was no sign of exhaustion. Before the battle, Buggy had absorbed the life force of Kong, Seraphim-Rocks, Saint Mercury, Blackbeard, and Sengoku. Each one possessed the reserves of a monster. All of it now burned within him. His energy did not wane. His presence remained unshaken.
The arms rained down faster. Hundreds of strikes landed each second. The wooden fists hammered the palm relentlessly, until cracks spread from its center to its edges. The pressure holding it together gave way.
With a final, thundering burst, the palm broke into fragments and vanished into the air.
A wave of cheers swept through Buggy's army.
"I told you! I knew he could do it!"
"Captain Buggy is invincible!"
From the front lines to the furthest hills, their cries rose like a storm. The soldiers shouted in disbelief, some weeping, others laughing, all of them consumed by awe.
Even the old legends who had remained silent found themselves changed by what they saw. Shanks exhaled and shook his head slowly.
"I never imagined it would be like this. He's not even an opponent anymore."
Redfield folded his arms and gave a dry smile. "Even with the Vampire Fruit, I thought I had a chance. That gap's wider than I thought."
Dragon and Mihawk exchanged no words. They didn't need to. Their small nods said enough. Even they acknowledged it now.
Then Imu's voice echoed once more. Calm, almost clinical, but with a strange note of disdain woven beneath the surface.
"You have reached planetary-level combat power. For a lower-dimensional lifeform, that is impressive."
Their lips curved faintly at one corner, not in admiration, but in mockery. The energy among Buggy's forces shifted again. Rage surged forward like a tide.
"You've got some nerve! Still pretending you're in control?"
"You just got flattened by our captain!"
But their defiance froze in place as several heads turned skyward.
"Wait… what is that?"
"No. No way."
"You're kidding me. This has to be a trick."
Above them, Imu raised one arm and slowly tapped at the air with her fingers. Reality rippled in response. The sky bent.
A new palm began to form in the clouds above.
Identical to the last. Just as vast. Just as heavy.
It hovered across the sky like nothing had happened. As if it had never been destroyed at all.
It was no longer a single giant palm blotting out the sky. There were ten.
Ten colossal hands, each hundreds of meters wide, descended together. The sky itself seemed to vanish behind them, buried under their sheer mass. Sunlight was snuffed out. Shadows stretched across the battlefield like a second nightfall. For a moment, it felt as though the heavens had collapsed.
Everyone's heart sank.
Across the world, people watching the live broadcast through Den Den Mushi had still been cheering only moments ago. Now their joy vanished, frozen mid-expression. Smiles stiffened into grimaces. Laughter stopped. Even through the magic of the signal, the despair reached them. Some clutched their mouths. Others stared in silence.
A few whispered prayers to no one in particular. They had seen what it took to stop one of those hands. Buggy had unleashed the full power of the Wooden Buddha's thousand arms, conjured flame and Haki, and struck with divine force. It had taken everything just to bring down one palm. Now there were ten.
If even one of those hit the ground, the destruction would be incalculable. A single direct hit could wound or even kill one of the Four Emperors. Anyone else would be completely annihilated. No remains. No survival. Just ash and memory.
Was this it? The end?
The battlefield held still, suspended in the seconds before impact. Soldiers gritted their teeth. Commanders said nothing. Some warriors turned their heads toward Buggy, desperate for hope. But even hope felt too fragile.
Then, across the open airwaves of the Den Den Mushi network, a voice broke through.
Uta's.
She didn't sing. She spoke, her voice clear and unwavering, broadcast across the world.
"Trust that man. He has never disappointed us. He won't fall here. I believe it with everything I have. He will lead us into the new era."
The silence that followed felt heavier than the ten palms.
Then the world turned to look at the man in red and blue, the figure standing alone beneath the descending sky. Buggy had not moved. His posture was unchanged, calm and upright. No panic. No fear.
He laughed.
It wasn't madness. It wasn't nervous. It was genuine laughter. It cut through the noise of the battlefield and drifted into every corner of the world. Viewers froze, confused at first. Then the tension in their chests loosened just slightly. It wasn't over yet.
Buggy raised his chin and looked straight into the heavens.
"Imu," he said, voice firm and clear.
"This is your answer? More hands? You must be running out of ideas."
...
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