"I have no idea how someone as naïve as you managed to survive this long."
Facing a powerful foe, Whiteflame stood calm, composed, utterly unshaken.
"You're still putting on that calm act?"
"You're scared to death inside, aren't you?"
"I'll end your life right now—so you can understand just how miserable it is to go against me! "
[Golden Titan: Hammer Fist]
With a thunderous roar, the golden giant's massive arm tensed and swung—its enormous fist crashing toward Whiteflame like a meteor!
"A man who can't even survive one punch from Luffy's Fourth Gear has the nerve to throw fists at me?"
Whiteflame's expression turned icy cold.
He raised his hand—and in an instant, his arm transformed into a mammoth's hoof.
BOOM!!
A deafening shockwave tore through the battlefield.
What happened next stunned everyone:
Whiteflame blocked the punch. Flat-out. Without flinching.
"What… what is this power?!"
Desoro's pupils contracted in horror.
That punch had been infused with both his awakened Gold-Gold Fruit (Goru Goru no Mi)power and intense Armament Haki. He was confident—even an admiral would have to take it seriously!
But the reality was a harsh slap in the face.
Desoro had always overestimated himself.
He'd never fought an admiral. He had no clue how many monsters roamed this world far stronger than he could imagine.
And Whiteflame?
He wasn't just strong—he had absorbed the power, techniques, and Haki of Jack the Drought, Doflamingo, and Charlotte Cracker…
Including Jack's ancient Zoan-type Mammoth strength—far beyond Desoro's league.
"You call that power?"
"Not even worth getting excited about. You've been barking all this time, calling yourself a god?"
Whiteflame's gaze sharpened like a blade.
"This world is full of idiots."
Then he threw a punch of his own—not using Zoan strength, not String-String abilities, just pure Armament Haki wrapped around his natural fist.
BOOM!!
The strike slammed into Desoro's golden fist like a cannon shot.
Cracks spiderwebbed instantly across the golden arm, and then—
CRASH!
It exploded into a shower of gold shards.
The golden giant reeled backward, staggering several steps. He nearly fell flat, utterly overwhelmed.
"H-How…?"
"How can someone with no reputation, no name, wield power like this?!"
"Who are you?!"
The Celestial Dragons!
Desoro couldn't comprehend what he was seeing.
One punch. No Devil Fruit. No ability—just raw force.
And it had shattered his golden arm.
This power… was monstrous.
"Who am I?"
"I'm a dead man walking. You don't need to know my name."
Whiteflame's voice was cold as death.
In a flash, he vanished—and reappeared directly in front of Desoro.
[Thread-King's Fist: Vibration]
White threads rose from the ground and spiraled around his arm—layer upon layer—until a massive limb formed, equal in size to Desoro's golden titan arm.
But this time, the vibrating pressure emanating from it wasn't just any attack—
It was a technique derived from Cracker's own.
The energy pulsed outward, violently distorting the air with each tremor.
"No… I can't take that hit. I can't get hit!"
Panic exploded in Desoro's eyes.
Just from the pressure alone, his instincts screamed: If I get hit, I'll be destroyed.
"I have to dodge. I have to dodge!"
Desoro consumed a massive chunk of his stamina, entering full awakened mode.
He transmuted all nearby golden buildings into a massive wall of molten gold—rising like a tide and hardening into a giant golden fortress between himself and Whiteflame.
"A wall?"
"You really are dumber than I thought."
[Warfare Style: Overlord Impact]
Whiteflame sneered.
His massive fist hardened with ultra-high-density Armament Haki and launched forward with unstoppable might.
BOOM!
The golden wall exploded like glass under artillery fire.
It didn't last a second.
Whiteflame's enormous punch tore through it and continued forward—
heading straight for the golden giant.
"NOOOOO!!"
Desoro's scream was filled with desperation and disbelief as the massive fist filled his vision.
In the next instant—
CRASH!!!
The golden titan shattered like a brittle egg, raining fragments of gold across the city.
Desoro's real body was launched like a cannonball into a distant tower, smashing through it and causing the entire structure to collapse in a thunderous heap.
One punch.
Everything destroyed.
"He… he actually beat Desoro?!"
"In just two punches?!"
"Am I seeing this right?! The invincible Desoro just… fell like that?!"
The onlookers were stunned silent.
To them, Desoro was a god—untouchable, unbeatable, revered.
And yet, in under three minutes, some unknown figure had crushed him.
No buildup. No drawn-out duel.
Just cold, clean destruction.
"Pathetic."
Hovering above the ruins, Whiteflame looked down at Desoro's unconscious body, withdrawing his fist.
That wasn't even his full power. He'd merely been testing how strong his new fusion of Jack's, Cracker's, and Doflamingo's powers had become.
Turns out—very strong.
Desoro, with all his flair and ego, had simply been too weak.
But it wasn't really his fault.
Even Doflamingo might've struggled against Whiteflame now—
and Whiteflame had already consumed Doflamingo's essence and surpassed him.
For Desoro, that punch wasn't just power.
It was an apocalypse.
"Blackie," Whiteflame said, lighting a cigarette.
"Kill him. Then consume him."
Desoro still clung to life, unconscious but not dead.
But once the IBM moved—his fate was sealed.
Moments later, a violent heat surged through Whiteflame's body.
"Life Energy Maxed. Breaking Limit. Congratulations—New IBM Created."
"You now have 19 summonable IBMs."
"Life Energy Maxed. Breaking Limit. Congratulations—New IBM Created."
"You now have 20 summonable IBMs."
As expected—even after consuming Desoro and his lieutenants, Whiteflame only gained two new IBMs.
"Spread out. Wipe out every one of Desoro's lackeys. Leave no one alive."
Whiteflame's eyes gleamed cold.
The 20 IBMs bowed silently, then dispersed into the city—beginning a brutal purge.
These thugs had lived in luxury for years, drunk on power, abusing Desoro's name to act above the law.
But now, that very name had brought their doom.
Massacres erupted in every corner of Gran Tesoro.
From rooftops, Whiteflame watched like a sovereign watching his empire burn—utterly emotionless.
"What's going on?! What the hell is happening out there?!"
"You fools! Get me out of here right now!"
"Do you even know who I am?! I'm a Celestial Dragon! Get me ten—no, twenty Marine ships for my personal evacuation, now!"
A shrill voice pierced the chaos.
Whiteflame's eyes drifted toward the street below, where a grotesquely dressed man was surrounded by a wall of armored guards.
"Celestial Dragons."
A twisted grin formed on Whiteflame's lips.
For a moment, a rare flicker of madness shone in his eyes.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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