However, in the face of such a gruesome, seemingly fatal blow, not a single person in the Navy ranks showed even a hint of joy.
On the contrary, the atmosphere grew unbearably heavy, thick with a dread far worse than if the attack had simply missed.
They knew.
Every seasoned officer on that plaza knew that for a powerhouse of Whitebeard's caliber, a physical wound, no matter how severe, meant absolutely nothing if he was, as they now feared, a Logia user.
As expected, under the stunned gazes of the thousands gathered, Sengoku's expression turned extremely grim.
He watched in disbelief as the gaping, bloody hole in Whitebeard's head began to fizz and crackle with raw, untamed lightning.
The supposedly obliterated portion of his skull and brain was regenerating at an impossible speed, tendrils of pure electricity weaving together to reform bone, flesh, and skin.
In the span of just a few seconds, Whitebeard had fully regrown the missing part of his head, turning to face them with a grin, looking no different than before the attack.
"So, it truly is a Logia… and one related to lightning," Tsuru said, her usually calm face etched with grave concern.
Her eyes, which had seen nearly a decades of conflict, were filled with a wariness reserved for only the most apocalyptic of threats.
She knew her Devil Fruit encyclopedias by heart.
"It's the Rumble-Rumble Fruit. The logia that been said to be lost."
Garp's jovial demeanor vanished, replaced by a stony seriousness.
He trusted Tsuru's knowledge implicitly.
He cracked his knuckles, the sound like stones grinding together.
"What's there to fear? It's just a Logia. My iron fists can still smash him to pieces!"
Kizaru, who was still leaning against a piece of wreckage, supposedly 'recovering,' couldn't help but let out a weak, helpless smirk at Garp's words.
'How familiar,' he sighed inwardly.
He knew that while Garp spoke with bravado, he understood the terrifying reality better than anyone.
'A real fight is far more complicated than just punching hard. You'll find that out soon enough, Garp-san', Kizaru added silently.
Nearby, Aokiji stared at the rejuvenated Whitebeard, his expression unreadable.
His thoughts seemed to drift far away, perhaps calculating the sheer energy required for such a feat, or maybe contemplating how this one man's impossible resurgence would shatter the world's delicate balance of power.
The other Vice Admirals and the assembled Marines were deeply shaken.
They had never encountered such an enemy before.
Whitebeard, the wielder of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit, was already a walking disaster.
Whitebeard with the addition of the invincible Rumble-Rumble Fruit was a concept so terrifying it bordered on blasphemy.
An unprecedented pressure settled over them, and in the hearts of many, a terrifying doubt began to sprout: Can an opponent like this even be defeated?
Yet, even in the face of the "Strongest Man in the World," one man's courage, or folly, burned brighter than his fear.
A Vice Admiral with a rugged, scarred face and a wild mane of gray hair charged forward, his loyalty overriding his survival instinct.
"Whitebeard!" he roared. "So what if you're a Logia?! Before the Absolute Justice of the Marines, all pirates have but one fate—death!"
With his war cry, the Vice Admiral swung his massive, spiked club.
A layer of pitch-black Armament Haki instantly coated the weapon's surface, making it incomparably hard, and more importantly, capable of bypassing the intangibility of a Logia user.
With all his might, he brought the club crashing down toward Whitebeard's head, aiming for a decisive, fatal blow.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku felt a sudden, sickening sense of foreboding.
He knew this Vice Admiral—a brave and honorable man, but one whose strength was worlds apart from an Emperor.
By the time he thought to shout a warning, it was already too late.
"Thunder."
A deep, resonant voice rang out, the name of the attack spoken with the casual indifference of a god swatting a fly.
A blinding bolt of lightning, thick as a man's thigh, erupted from Whitebeard's outstretched palm.
It struck the charging Vice Admiral with a speed that defied perception.
KRAKOOM!
A terrifying crackle of raw electricity pierced the air.
The immense current surged through the man's body, the accompanying heat so intense that he let out a single, blood-curdling scream before his voice was choked off.
His body convulsed violently under the overwhelming voltage, muscles seizing as he was cooked alive from the inside out, before collapsing uncontrollably to the ground in a smoldering heap.
Yet, Whitebeard showed no mercy, only a quiet, regal solemnity.
"To raise your weapon and charge at your foe—that is courage worthy of praise. But as men, we must bear the consequences of our actions."
The acrid, sickening stench of scorched flesh began to permeate the air.
By the time the blinding light faded, the Vice Admiral was an unconscious, blackened husk, his fate was unknown.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze.
Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at their fallen comrade, momentarily forgetting to breathe.
"Just one move..." someone finally broke the silence, their voice filled with shock and disbelief.
"He took out a Vice Admiral... instantly!"
"Unbelievable… so that's the power of the Rumble-Rumble Fruit!"
"How are we supposed to fight this? You can't even get close to him!"
"...To be fair," another marine muttered grimly, "I'm pretty sure Whitebeard could one-shot a Vice Admiral even without being a Logia..."
"Damn it! These cursed pirates!"
Voices rose one after another, a mixture of fury, frustration, and creeping despair.
But in the face of such absolute power, their resistance seemed utterly insignificant.
Sengoku's brow furrowed.
This was bad.
This Logia ability wasn't something that could be overcome with sheer numbers.
No matter how many thousands of soldiers he threw at him, they couldn't withstand a relentless bombardment of lightning.
He raised his hand, signaling those behind him not to act recklessly.
Any further charges would be nothing more than suicide.
Whitebeard stared at the golden Buddha, a flicker of contemplation in his eyes.
He suddenly realized he'd been so focused on Akainu, he might have overlooked the prize right in front of him.
Sengoku's ability was intriguing, the hallmark of the Fleet Admiral himself.
If he could collect some of his blood… perhaps he could create an army of powerful, miniature Buddha.
The mere thought of such a gloriously absurd scene excited him beyond measure.
"Sengoku," Whitebeard taunted, a new, predatory glint in his eye.
"After all these years, is this it? How is it that your strength hasn't improved at all?"
He knew such a crude provocation might not work on the strategic Fleet Admiral, but it was worth a shot.
Hearing this, Sengoku's expression remained like stone.
He clearly understood Whitebeard's intent to rile him up.
For someone who had weathered countless storms, such a low-level taunt was hardly enough to shake his resolve.
However, the moment Whitebeard's words faded, a bolt of lightning tore through the sky with a deafening clap of thunder.
In the next moment, Whitebeard's figure vanished as if swallowed by the air, disappearing without a single trace.
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