Doflamingo suddenly flung his hand backward, dozens of nearly invisible threads shooting from his palm.
In an instant, those threads twisted and bound together, forming a massive column of strings. With a sharp crack, he whipped it forward at the incoming golden missile.
"Excess Whip String(Overheat)!"
The pillar, strong enough to slice through a skyscraper, lashed out and struck the "Jakuho Raikōben."
The two forces collided.
And then—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A deafening explosion tore across the skies above Spider Miles. A fiery orange-red shockwave erupted outward, swallowing the heavens and flattening everything in its path.
The shockwave hit like a hurricane. Donquixote officers caught beneath the blast were flung like ragdolls, slamming into buildings and walls with bone-crunching force.
---
Twenty nautical miles away, Yahn could faintly make out a mushroom cloud blooming in the distance. Corazon's voice cut off abruptly on the line, followed only by the roar of the shockwave.
"…Holy—holy shit…"
Corazon's startled curse—one he had picked up from Yahn himself—slipped out before he could stop it.
"What happened? Corazon, are you okay?" Yahn asked, feigning concern.
"This… this is huge…" Corazon muttered, still stunned. Then, after a pause, he steadied his voice. "I'm fine. But the family headquarters—someone launched a massive attack. The scale… it's insane."
"As long as you're safe."
Yahn's tone softened. His free hand was already condensing spiritual pressure, preparing another Raikōben.
When he first drafted this plan, his greatest fear had been accidentally killing Corazon. Now that he knew Corazon was unharmed, why hold back?
The destructive power of the first strike had surpassed even Yahn's expectations, but he knew one blast wouldn't be enough to wipe out the Donquixote Pirates. Several more might do the job.
"Yan, let's talk later," Corazon said quickly. "I need to get back to the family, to see what's going on."
"Wait—don't."
Yahn stopped him at once. "If the Donquixote Pirates are under attack, let them suffer. If Doflamingo dies in the chaos, your mission is complete anyway."
Corazon's answer was firm. "No."
Yahn frowned. "Why? Don't tell me you've forgotten your real identity."
"Yahn… sigh…"
Corazon let out a weary breath. His voice softened.
"I have my reasons. Not everyone in the family is like Doflamingo. Over the years, the Donquixote Pirates have taken in many children to train. I've managed to send some away, but others are still there. I… I need to check on them."
Before Yahn could answer, the line went dead.
"Tch. Foolish, gentle bastard."
Yahn sighed, lowering the half-formed Raikōben. Of course Corazon would react this way. That softness buried deep in his bones—that was exactly why he had once cared for Yahn when they were young, showing kindness Yahn never forgot.
"But what now?"
Yahn rubbed his chin, sliding the Zanpakutō back into its sheath.
His original plan had been simple: unleash the ultimate, stripped-down Bankai—pure destructive might—then coordinate with Little Gold and Robin for reconnaissance, using his Observation Haki to lock onto the iron stele and bombard the Donquixote base from extreme range.
A tactic born of his former life. Low risk, as long as the enemy had no way of detecting him from twenty nautical miles away.
Even if one Raikōben wasn't enough to annihilate every officer, Yahn had time to grind them down.
But Corazon's involvement forced a change. He couldn't very well shell his own brother.
"Robin, come pick me up," Yahn muttered into the transponder snail.
---
Meanwhile, Corazon hurried back toward the family's stronghold, his unease growing with every step.
That mushroom cloud… that shockwave ripping outward in all directions… its destructive force was beyond terrifying.
The attack hadn't even landed directly—Doflamingo had intercepted it midair—yet the residual blast alone had leveled the center of the Donquixote stronghold, reducing it to a field of smoking ruin.
"They… they can't all be dead, can they?"
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as he stared at the devastation.
Bang!
Suddenly, a bloodied hand burst from the rubble nearby, clawing at the ground. With effort, a battered, bleeding Doflamingo dragged himself out.
"Damn it!" he spat, coughing harshly.
Ever since the day he returned to Mary Geoise with his father's severed head, only to be cast out by the Celestial Dragons, Doflamingo had never been this humiliated.
A man born with the "qualification of a king"—this state of disgrace ignited his fury like never before.
Corazon hesitated, then stepped forward and helped him up.
"…?!"
Doflamingo, leaning on him, suddenly realized Corazon was completely unharmed. Suspicion flashed in his eyes.
"Rosinante… why aren't you injured?"
Corazon, who always maintained his cover as a mute, quickly pulled out his notebook and scribbled:
I was at the shore just now.
Doflamingo's doubt faded. Knowing Rosinante's habits, it was believable he'd been staring at the sea, lost in thought.
"What happened?" Corazon wrote again.
"An unknown attack," Doflamingo growled stiffly.
He staggered toward the iron stele still standing in the smoking ruins, untouched by the blast.
Once more, he read the words carved upon it.
Hand over the five Devil Fruits and the attackers—The Hueco Mundo Organization. You have one day.