Facing an enemy who attacked without warning, Whiteflame wasn't about to hold back. After all, this was his first move in front of two Yonko officers.
[Tidal Surge: White Threads]
Without hesitation, Whiteflame activated the awakened form of the String-String Fruit.
The surrounding ground erupted in a wave of dense, surging white threads—twisting and weaving together into a massive, roaring tide that soared into the sky, crashing toward the vulture Zoan user.
"He can manipulate the environment—he's awakened!"
The vulture's face went pale the moment he saw the technique. He had been charging straight at Whiteflame but halted midair and immediately turned to flee in terror.
Compared to an awakened Paramecia user, what chance did a barely-trained Zoan user like him stand?
But his fear couldn't save him.
No matter how fast he was, he couldn't outrun threads that had already locked onto him.
In the blink of an eye, the wave of threads burst into the sky, coiling around him like a living net—binding, squeezing, strangling.
"N-No! Help! Lord Jack—save me!"
The vulture only managed a single scream before the white threads completely engulfed him. Moments later, blood seeped through the woven net of strings—bright, red, and unmistakably final.
"So this is what passes for a 'welcome' among Yonko crews?"
"How underwhelming."
Whiteflame's voice was flat and unimpressed.
"He's… awakened?!"
"A Paramecia-type Awakening?"
"Wait a second—why does that ability look so familiar?"
Then, realization dawned.
"I remember now! That's the String-String Fruit—Doflamingo's power! How the hell does he have it?!"
Members of the Beasts Pirates began to murmur in confusion and disbelief.
"Coward," Jack the Drought growled, glancing at Cracker with a sneer.
"So this brat is the backup you brought? This trash-tier fighter? Your Big Mom crew must be running out of people."
Cracker scoffed.
"Jack, you really are as dumb as they say."
"I know every major name in the Four Emperors' ranks—Whitebeard, Red-Haired, your Beasts Pirates. This guy? He's not affiliated with any of you."
"Isn't that obvious?"
Cracker turned his gaze toward Whiteflame.
"Listen, kid. If you're thinking of getting involved with Caesar, I'd advise you to drop that idea now."
"Do you even know who I am? I'm one of Big Mom's Sweet Commanders—the elite of the elite."
"And the dumbass across from me? That's Jack the Drought, one of Kaido's Three Disasters."
"Even if you've never heard of him, you should've heard of me!"
"So unless you want to die under the blade of my Biscuit Soldiers, I suggest you leave now. You won't get another warning."
Despite Whiteflame having revealed an awakened ability, Cracker still regarded him with contempt.
The pride of a Yonko commander ran deep—just like Jack, Cracker saw everyone else as beneath him.
"So the stories were true…" Whiteflame narrowed his eyes.
"You Yonko officers really are arrogant bastards."
"But you—" he pointed at Cracker, "—are the most arrogant of them all. That makes you my first target."
The moment Whiteflame finished speaking, Cracker's eyes twitched. His instincts screamed at him—he moved, raising his greatsword just in time—
CLANG!
A metallic clang rang out.
Cracker had blocked the strike… but barely.
He now saw his attacker—a humanoid creature wrapped entirely in white bandages, like a living mummy.
"What the hell is that?!"
A cold sweat dripped from Cracker's temple.
If he hadn't reacted just in time, he had no doubt—he would've been torn in half by those claws.
The creature darted back in a blur, vanishing from Cracker's view completely. Even his advanced Observation Haki couldn't sense where it had gone.
"Tch. What a shame." Whiteflame smirked.
"One careless moment, and I almost killed one of Big Mom's Sweet Commanders."
Gasps erupted across the battlefield.
Everyone had just seen the sneak attack. That thing—whatever it was—had appeared out of nowhere. No sound. No warning. Even the strongest fighters hadn't noticed it coming.
And Cracker—who had deflected countless assassination attempts—was almost caught off guard.
They all knew it: if Cracker hadn't parried at the last second, he would've been seriously injured—maybe even killed.
And anyone familiar with Cracker's secret also knew:
If he took even one hit… he wouldn't just be hurt—he'd pass out. Instantly.
Because Cracker… was deathly afraid of pain.
"YOU BASTARD!!"
"You dare lay a hand on me?! You're dead, kid! DEAD!"
Cracker's initial shock twisted into fury. The image of that moment—how close he came to being killed—burned in his mind.
Now his rage flared.
With a wave of his hand, dozens of Biscuit Soldiers surged toward Whiteflame like a small army.
"Oh?" Whiteflame's eyes ignited with battlelust.
"If you think you can kill me—come try."
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Suddenly, the ground thundered with heavy impacts.
Jack the Drought had begun charging.
His massive mammoth form barreled forward, trampling Biscuit Soldiers underfoot as he made a beeline for Whiteflame.
"You arrogant little brat!" Jack roared.
"You wanna die that badly? Fine—let me help you!"
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