The atmosphere was torn apart.
The upside-down Marineford blocked out the sun in the sky, casting shadows over the icy area, including the ships of the Whitebeard Pirates all within the shadowed range of the island.
"Father?!"
The forty-three pirate crews on the periphery glimpsed this scene; from the captains to the crew members, all showed shock and concern.
Even Whitebeard, who had always thought he was accustomed to big scenes, was shocked by such island-dropping attacks, cold sweat appearing on his forehead.
Yet he maintained a relaxed tone, "What an exaggerated brat, gu la la la la."
Amid his strange laughter, Whitebeard gripped with his right hand, muscles like steel cables were as taut as a bowstring, tense to the extreme.
As he activated the ability of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit, a blazing white orb instantaneously covered his right fist.
Whitebeard stepped forward, twisted his waist, and suddenly hit out with the fist carrying the orb.
Crack.
