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"Lord Dan!"
Jack the Drought's eyes nearly split with rage, his enormous tusks slamming into the ground with a thunderous boom. Cracks spidered out beneath his feet.
Behind him, every Beast Pirate clenched their fists tight.
Their hearts felt as if an invisible hand had seized them, squeezing until they almost stopped beating.
Too terrifying.
Donquixote Doflamingo—the Heavenly Yaksha.
Gild Tesoro—the Golden Emperor.
Two of the most infamous pirates of the New World, now attacking together at full strength. The sheer force of their combined strike was enough to shake the heavens. Could young Master Dan really withstand that?
Amid the overwhelming surge of gold and white light, suspended in midair and wrapped in a faint blue vapor, Dan's expression remained utterly calm—serene, unshaken.
He didn't even glance at the oncoming flood of destructive energy.
He simply raised his tiny hand, steam curling around his fingers, and spread them open.
Then he made a small, precise gesture toward the front.
"Yiya."
A soft, almost childlike sound—so quiet it was nearly drowned out by the roaring storm.
Then, his little chest rose and fell once.
A terrifying, indescribable energy began gathering in his palm—dense, explosive, unstoppable.
"Day…"
Dan's babyish voice for the first time carried a chilling weight.
"…Tiger!"
BOOM!
A colossal white tiger, forged entirely from compressed air, exploded from his palm with a roar that shook the island.
The beast looked alive—each strand of fur sharp and vivid, radiating an aura so oppressive it felt like the world itself was being crushed beneath its presence.
In that instant, all light over Dressrosa dimmed.
The air vanished.
Every lung seized.
Every heart skipped a beat.
"Raaaawwwrrr!!!"
The white tiger howled to the sky. The sound itself became a visible wave that tore across the ground, flipping stone and soil like paper.
Then—it charged. Straight into the gold-and-white torrent with unstoppable force.
No tricks.
No finesse.
Just raw, primal power.
RUMBLE!!!
The golden spears shattered on contact, disintegrating like brittle glass.
Not even the faintest resistance.
Those golden lances—sharp enough to tear steel, pulverize rock—collapsed instantly.
The cutting white threads of Doflamingo's awakened ability—able to slice anything—met the invisible force around Dan's fist and melted away like frost under the noonday sun.
Destroyed.
Obliterated.
Powerless.
"No… no way!"
Tesoro's golden pupils shrank to pinpoints, his massive gilded body shuddering.
He could feel it—an overwhelming energy coursing backward through his own golden constructs, ripping its way into him.
Crack… crack!
Hairline fractures began creeping across his body of living gold.
Splurt!
He coughed up a mouthful of shimmering liquid—pure condensed gold essence, not blood.
Then that huge golden body was sent hurtling backward, like an invisible hammer had smashed him square in the chest.
On the other side, Doflamingo didn't fare much better.
His awakened threads—so numerous and deadly—were shredded like cobwebs. The backlash slammed through them, smashing directly into his body.
Bang!
He crashed into the distant ruins, dust erupting into the sky.
Silence.
Total silence.
The entire harbor froze.
You could've heard a pin drop.
The Donquixote Family executives still wore their twisted grins—but the expressions had frozen mid-sneer, grotesque and absurd.
Sugar's candy dropped from her trembling hands, rolling away across the ground.
Pica's giant stone body trembled.
Trebol's slime-like frame shook like jelly.
The underworld brokers gawked—mouths open, eyes bulging as if they might pop out of their skulls.
What… what did they just see?
An illusion.
It had to be an illusion.
Doflamingo and Gild Tesoro—two Warlords of the Sea—had unleashed their ultimate awakened attacks together… and that tiny kid had crushed them both with a single strike?
No, not just crushed—annihilated them.
"This… this…" one crime boss stammered, unable to finish his sentence.
"That brat's on an Admiral's level," muttered another, voice shaking with raw terror.
Even Jack's mountainous body trembled violently, his eyes wide as saucers.
Behind him, every Beast Pirate sucked in a sharp breath at once.
Master Dan… was a monster.
That was the full might of two Warlords—and he'd brushed it off like it was nothing. Even Kaido in his prime couldn't have done it so effortlessly.
And Dan was barely a year old.
But he didn't stop there.
As Doflamingo barely managed to regain his footing, Dan suddenly appeared in front of him.
Too fast.
Even Doflamingo's Observation Haki couldn't keep up.
"You—!"
He tried to speak, to gather power, to defend—but the blue-steamed little fist was already there.
"God Thread: Guard!"
A massive white shield of densely woven strings materialized before him.
Crack!
It shattered instantly, like paper under a bullet.
Dan's tiny fist slammed into his chest.
Thud!
Doflamingo's body folded in half and was launched backward, bones audibly snapping, crashing through building after building until he vanished from sight.
"Boss!"
The Donquixote executives screamed, rushing toward the wreckage.
Dan's small form flickered again—and this time he appeared before Tesoro.
The Golden Emperor's godlike body was already falling apart. For the first time, his eternally confident grin was gone—replaced by sheer panic.
"W-wait! Hold on—!"
He tried to bargain, but Dan gave him no chance.
Another punch.
"Golden City: Absolute Defense!"
The ground turned to gold beneath him, rising in thick, gleaming layers to shield him.
His entire body hardened, encased in living metal.
BOOM.
The sound was dull, heavy—final.
The golden barriers shattered like porcelain. Layer after layer crumbled away.
Dan's fist blasted through everything and struck Tesoro square in the gut.
"Ugh—!"
He felt that monstrous force rampaging through his body, tearing everything apart from the inside.
Cracks raced across his golden armor before it burst apart entirely.
Tesoro's body spun through the air like a struck baseball, smashing through walls and stands before finally crashing into the coliseum seating—unconscious before he even landed.
One punch.
Then another.
Two Warlords of the Sea—legends of the New World—defeated in seconds, unable to take even a single clean hit.
The harbor fell silent again.
Every brain present froze, unable to process what they'd just witnessed.
They stared at the small figure floating in midair—barefoot, wearing open-crotch baby pants, his skin glowing faintly in the blue steam.
Their eyes were filled with awe.
And fear.
That wasn't a child.
That wasn't even human.
That was a demon god descended to earth.
"..."
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