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Is that really it?
Luffy stared at the direction where Doflamingo had been launched, confusion warring with the battle-fury still burning in his chest. Dust billowed across the Founding Titan's spine, obscuring his vision and hiding the impact site. The big boss who'd been foreshadowed for so long—the villain who'd tortured Law, who'd kicked Luffy around like a toy, who embodied everything wrong with piracy—had he really gone down that easily?
Two attacks. Just two exchanges in Gear Fourth, and the Heavenly Yaksha had been sent ragdolling across the battlefield without mounting effective resistance.
Something felt wrong. Too simple. Too clean.
To be safe, Luffy decided to finish the job personally. His inflated legs compressed like springs, storing kinetic energy before releasing in explosive bursts. Each bounce carried him a hundred meters—three jumps to close the distance, three seconds to reach the fallen enemy.
When he finally got close enough to see clearly, Luffy's eyes widened in shock.
"What the—?! Why isn't he a real person?!"
The figure that had taken his Kong Gun and Rhino Schneider lay motionless on the bone surface, but it wasn't Doflamingo. Not truly. The entire body had turned pure white—composed entirely of thin threads woven into human shape. No blood. No breathing. No life force whatsoever.
A string clone. The bastard had been fighting with a puppet this whole time.
"Fuffuffuffuffu! Well done, Straw Hat Boy." Doflamingo's voice echoed from multiple directions simultaneously, dripping with theatrical amusement. "You've really improved these past five years! You can actually destroy one of my clones now. How impressive!"
The mockery in his tone was palpable—genuine praise wrapped in condescension.
"Your Haki is worthy of recognition at your age," the voice continued, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "But it's unfortunate you met me today. The Marines might hold back on someone like you, but I certainly won't."
Two new Doflamingos materialized in front and behind Luffy—both identical to the original, both wearing that same infuriating grin, both radiating killing intent that felt disturbingly real despite being constructs.
They moved in perfect synchronization.
"Goshikito (Five Color Strings)!"
White threads wrapped in jet-black Armament Haki erupted from their fingertips, crackling with red-and-black Conqueror's Haki lightning. The attacks came from opposite directions simultaneously—a pincer formation designed to pierce through regardless of which way Luffy dodged.
"Gomu Gomu no... Turtle Shell!"
Luffy compressed air into specific muscle groups—back and chest swelling massively until they resembled a tortoise's carapace. Hardened with concentrated Armament Haki, the formation prioritized absolute defense over mobility, protecting his head and vital organs behind layers of enhanced rubber.
The threads struck like high-speed drills.
Sparks erupted where Haki met Haki—dozens of impacts per second as the razor-sharp strings ground against Luffy's defensive coating. For several heartbeats they held, the collision of opposing forces creating a stalemate of light and sound.
Then the threads began to penetrate.
Doflamingo's Armament Haki, refined through decades of combat experience, gradually carved through Luffy's defense like surgical instruments. Millimeter by millimeter, the white strings drilled inward until they finally pierced flesh.
Blood welled up around the entry points, staining Gear Fourth's crimson skin an even darker shade of red.
"Gah—!" Luffy gritted his teeth against the pain, refusing to scream. The wounds weren't deep—not life-threatening—but they hurt in a way that demanded acknowledgment.
"Don't get cocky just because you landed a hit!" Luffy snarled, rage overriding agony. His hands shot out, grabbing the embedded threads before the clones could retract them. "Don't underestimate me, Doflamingo!"
He pulled.
The tremendous strength of Gear Fourth combined with rubber elasticity yanked both string clones toward him with irresistible force. If he could get them in close-combat range, he could pummel them until nothing remained but scattered thread fragments.
But Doflamingo had anticipated this.
The moment Luffy's grip tightened, both clones severed the connecting threads—cutting their losses rather than being drawn into disadvantageous melee range. They leaped backward, attempting to establish distance for another ranged assault.
Luffy wasn't about to let them escape.
"Gomu Gomu no... Culverin!"
His arms compressed into his body, storing energy like coiled serpents. Then they exploded forward at tremendous speed—not as straight punches but as twisting, serpentine strikes that pursued the retreating clones with predatory intent.
The Doflamingo clones dodged sideways with identical movements.
And that's when Luffy's fists changed direction mid-flight.
The rubber limbs bent at ninety-degree angles—defying physics and expectation to curve around the clones' evasions like striking cobras. The attacks that should have missed completely doubled back, slamming into the puppets from unexpected vectors.
WHAM! WHAM!
Both fists connected with the clones' heads simultaneously, the impacts creating visible shockwaves. The constructs' skulls deformed under the force—thread-woven faces compressing inward before the entire structures destabilized.
The clones dissolved. Their bodies faded from flesh-tone to pure white before unraveling completely, collapsing into lifeless piles of string that scattered across the bone surface.
Luffy retracted his extended arms, but the momentary victory came at a cost. His breathing had become rapid and labored—chest heaving as his heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape. The accelerated blood circulation of Gear Fourth was pushing his cardiovascular system to its absolute limits.
Can't maintain this much longer, he realized with growing concern. Gear Fourth burns through stamina too fast. If this drags on...
But he couldn't afford to power down. Not yet. Not while Doflamingo's true body remained hidden.
Luffy closed his eyes and focused, activating his Observation Haki to its fullest extent. His awareness expanded outward like ripples in a pond, feeling for the subtle differences between string clones and genuine life force. The battlefield became a three-dimensional map in his mind—every movement, every presence, every fluctuation in spiritual energy.
There. Multiple presences. But which one was real?
The air grew thick with tension. In battles between masters, a single moment of carelessness could prove fatal—and Doflamingo was exactly the type of despicable villain who wouldn't hesitate to exploit any opening.
"Goshikito!"
The attack came from multiple directions simultaneously—white threads wrapped in Armament Haki, launched by at least four different string clones emerging from concealment. They converged on Luffy's position like a closing net, seeking to overwhelm through sheer numbers.
He's trying to tire me out, Luffy understood immediately. Wear me down with endless clones until Gear Fourth runs out!
Fine. If Doflamingo wanted to compete on speed, Luffy would oblige.
His inflated legs compressed and released in rapid succession—bouncing, dodging, weaving through the thread attacks with the enhanced mobility that made Gear Fourth's Boundman form so dangerous. The elasticity of the Gomu Gomu no Mi (Gum-Gum Fruit) granted him propulsion that surpassed even Bellamy's Bane Bane no Mi (Spring-Spring Fruit), each leap carrying him dozens of meters in unpredictable trajectories.
The threads couldn't keep up.
Doflamingo's string clones, for all their synchronized coordination, lacked the raw speed to catch someone moving with Gear Fourth's acceleration. Their attacks missed by increasingly wide margins as Luffy's pattern became more erratic.
"Now it's MY turn!" Luffy declared, his voice taking on a deeper resonance as he prepared his counterattack. "Let's see how many clones you can make! I'll destroy ALL of them!"
As he bounced through the air, Luffy inhaled—massive gulps of oxygen that inflated his neck and cheeks until his face swelled like a living bullfrog's. The air mixed with the Armament Haki circulating through his body, creating a volatile combination in his lungs.
Then he opened his mouth and roared.
"GOMU GOMU NO... KING KONG ROAR!"
The sound that erupted wasn't human. It was primal—a tiger's territorial challenge amplified a thousand-fold, infused with weaponized Haki that transformed mere noise into a devastating sonic attack. The shockwave rippled outward in a sphere of destructive force, visible as distortions in the air itself.
The hidden string clones never stood a chance.
The sonic blast struck them simultaneously, and the thread constructs shattered—literally falling apart as the vibrations disrupted the precise control needed to maintain their forms. White strings exploded outward in all directions, raining down on the Founding Titan's spine like synthetic snowfall.
Even the battlefield itself suffered collateral damage. Cracks spiderwebbed across the bone surface—fractures spreading dozens of meters before the titan's regenerative abilities kicked in, mending the damage almost as quickly as it formed.
Good thing Eren can repair this, Luffy thought distantly, watching the cracks seal themselves. Otherwise I'd feel bad about trashing his spine.
The roar finally subsided, and Luffy coughed—several harsh barks that made his throat burn. His vocal cords felt raw, damaged by the technique's intensity. When he swallowed, it hurt.
Note to self: don't spam that move. Throat can't handle it.
But it had worked. The battlefield fell silent. No more string clones emerged from hiding. No more thread attacks came whistling through the air. Either Doflamingo had run out of puppets, or—
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Slow, deliberate applause echoed across the bone surface. The sound came from a single source this time—not multiple directions, not everywhere at once, but from one specific location.
"I really don't know who trained you so well over the years," Doflamingo's voice said, no longer distorted by ventriloquism. This was the genuine article—the real man speaking with his actual vocal cords. "Your teacher must be quite extraordinary, Straw Hat Boy. Tell me... if I killed such an outstanding disciple, would your mentor seek revenge on me? I'm very curious about their identity."
Luffy turned toward the voice, his Gear Fourth form still maintaining maximum alertness.
There, standing perhaps fifty meters away on the titan's spine, was Doflamingo.
The real Doflamingo.
The difference between the true body and the string clones became immediately apparent. Five years in the future had changed the Heavenly Yaksha's appearance—his hair had turned completely silver, each strand gleaming like spun platinum rather than the golden blonde of his younger years. Whether this was a side effect of advanced Ito Ito no Mi (String-String Fruit) usage or simple aging, Luffy couldn't say.
But the presence was unmistakable. The aura radiating from this figure carried weight that no clone could replicate—a pressure that made the air itself feel heavier, that triggered every combat instinct Luffy had developed through years of life-or-death battles.
This was the real deal. No puppet. No trick. The genuine Donquixote Doflamingo, former Celestial Dragon and current tyrant of Dressrosa, standing before him with that same infuriating grin.
For the first time since activating Gear Fourth, Luffy felt true oppression—the kind of overwhelming presence that only the strongest fighters could generate.
"Rayleigh taught me Haki," Luffy answered honestly, seeing no reason to hide the truth. His mentor's name was common knowledge among anyone who followed the news. "But I'm not going to die here. The one who's going to die today is you, Doflamingo."
A flash of genuine surprise crossed the Heavenly Yaksha's face—so brief it might have been imagined, but real nonetheless.
The Dark King himself, Doflamingo thought, his grin widening despite the revelation. The former right hand of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger. This brat really does have connections to the old era's legends. What kind of background does Monkey D. Luffy possess to attract such mentors?
But idle curiosity wouldn't change the outcome. Secrets and backgrounds meant nothing in the face of absolute strength. Once Luffy was dead, his illustrious lineage and powerful connections would become nothing more than impressive footnotes—stepping stones that elevated Doflamingo's own legend.
"Well then," Doflamingo said, his grin taking on a predatory edge as he spread his arms wide. "Show me what the Dark King's disciple can truly accomplish. Don't disappoint me now, Straw Hat Boy."
His fingers twitched, and dozens of nearly-invisible threads emerged from his fingertips—so thin they were almost imperceptible against the sky, yet each one capable of slicing through steel like paper.
"Because this is where your story ends."
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