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Doflamingo radiated a presence that made Luffy's combat instincts scream warnings. He'd felt this kind of overwhelming aura before—during training sessions with Master Rayleigh, when the Dark King would unleash even a fraction of his true power to demonstrate the gap between student and legend.
This was different from facing Gecko Moria or Crocodile. Those two Shichibukai had been dangerous, yes—but they'd also been broken men.
Both had lost something fundamental that distinguished the truly strong from the merely powerful.
Doflamingo hadn't lost anything. His will burned undimmed—twisted and malevolent, but absolutely unshakeable.
This is what a real Shichibukai looks like, Luffy realized. Someone who hasn't given up. Someone still climbing toward the top.
But recognition of the enemy's strength didn't translate to surrender. It never had. It never would.
"So this is your true body!" Luffy declared, his Gear Fourth muscles tensing as he prepared to attack. "Fine! Then I'll just have to hit you harder! Gomu Gomu no... Kong Organ!"
He launched himself forward with explosive force, covering the distance in an eyeblink. His arms compressed inward against his torso, storing maximum kinetic energy before—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Dozens of Haki-coated fists erupted from his body in rapid succession—not the simple two-fisted Kong Gun, but a devastating barrage that filled the air with black-and-red afterimages. The wind pressure alone was enough to crack bone, each punch carrying force that could shatter boulders.
The fist-wind struck Doflamingo's face, making his feather coat billow dramatically.
And he just... smiled.
That infuriating, condescending smile that said he didn't take Monkey D. Luffy seriously. That he saw nothing but a child playing pirate, coasting on the reputations of his legendary grandfather and revolutionary father.
"You want to use the same trick on me?" Doflamingo raised both hands calmly, almost lazily. "How disappointing."
His palms met Luffy's barrage.
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
The collision generated shockwaves that rippled outward in concentric circles—Armament Haki grinding against Armament Haki in a contest of raw strength and willpower. Luffy's fists were easily five times larger than Doflamingo's hands, swollen with compressed air and enhanced musculature.
But size meant nothing in the face of superior technique.
Doflamingo's guard held. Absolutely. Completely. No matter how many punches Luffy threw, no matter how much force he channeled through Gear Fourth's enhanced physiology, he couldn't advance a single centimeter.
He's... too strong! Luffy's eyes widened behind his assault. Way stronger than I thought! This isn't working—
Doflamingo's left knee drove upward like a piston.
THUD.
The impact struck Luffy's abdomen—a precise, brutal blow that bypassed his Armament Haki defense through sheer overwhelming force. Pain exploded through his core, so intense that Luffy's vision went white for a moment. His eyes rolled back involuntarily as all the air rushed from his lungs in a single agonized gasp.
Same Haki... so why...?!
Before Luffy could recover, Doflamingo's right leg swung up in a vicious kick.
CRACK!
His dress shoe connected with Luffy's face—specifically his cheek—with enough force to launch the Gear Fourth user backward like a cannonball. The impact left a perfect shoe-print imprinted on Luffy's skin, darkening into a bruise that mirrored the mark Admiral Sakazuki had left five years ago.
Extremely harmful. Utterly insulting.
Luffy's body tumbled across the Founding Titan's spine, his inflated form skipping like a stone across water. He dragged for a hundred meters—bone fragments scattering with each impact—before finally managing to arrest his momentum.
The moment he stabilized, Luffy's hand went to his face, fingers tracing the burning shoe-print. The pain was secondary. The humiliation was what stung—being kicked away so casually, like he was still that weak kid who couldn't save anyone.
No. No! I'm not backing down!
He'd come too far. Trained too hard. Lost too much. Law's corpse was still cooling on this very battlefield—another friend dead because Luffy hadn't been strong enough to protect them.
I'll fight until my life burns out completely! I'll keep fighting! KEEP FIGHTING!
Luffy clenched his right fist and slammed it against his own chest—directly over his heart.
THUMP.
The impact made his entire body vibrate. His heart responded to the stimulation, accelerating beyond the already-dangerous rhythm of Gear Fourth. Blood circulation spiked dramatically—nutrients and oxygen flooding his muscles at rates that would kill a normal human.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
He struck again. And again. Each blow pushed his cardiovascular system further into the red zone, trading future lifespan for immediate power. The bloody crimson of his skin darkened to deep scarlet—almost black in places—as blood pressure reached critical levels.
This was "Double Pressure"—the technique Rayleigh had warned him never to use except in life-or-death situations. The technique that consumed his heart's vitality in exchange for breaking through the body's natural limits.
I don't care about the cost, Luffy thought grimly, feeling power surge through every cell. I just need to be strong enough RIGHT NOW!
His arms stretched forward, elongating far beyond normal Gear Fourth range.
"Gomu Gomu no... King Cobra!"
The limbs moved faster than before—not traveling in straight lines but weaving through the air in sinuous, unpredictable patterns. They bent at ninety-degree angles mid-flight, changed direction without warning, spiraled around invisible obstacles like hunting serpents seeking prey.
The movements were impossible to predict through observation alone. Only future-sight level Observation Haki could track their final destination—and Doflamingo didn't possess that level of precognition.
The twin strikes curved around behind the Heavenly Yaksha, fangs bared for the kill.
But Doflamingo didn't need to see the future.
His left hand moved—a casual flick of the wrist—and a thick white cord erupted from his palm. The thread shot toward Luffy at speeds that made the King Cobra look slow by comparison, crossing the distance in a fraction of a heartbeat.
Luffy's eyes widened. Too fast—!
He tried to dodge, but his extended arms had committed him to the attack pattern. No time to retract. No angle to evade. The thread wrapped around his neck like a striking viper, cinching tight with a sound like leather creaking.
Got you, Doflamingo's grin widened.
Meanwhile, Luffy's King Cobra finally reached its target—both fists slamming into Doflamingo's back with tremendous force.
WHAM!
Except the Heavenly Yaksha had twisted at the last moment, taking the impacts on his shoulder and side instead of vital points. His Armament Haki absorbed most of the damage, leaving him barely staggered.
And Luffy now had a leash around his neck.
The thick thread tightened, pulling forward with irresistible strength. Luffy's neck—swollen with Gear Fourth's inflation—compressed from the width of a tree trunk to barely three fingers thick. The constriction was immediate and terrifying.
Can't... breathe...!
Luffy grabbed the cord with both hands, trying to pull it loose, but the action only made it worse. The more he struggled, the tighter it squeezed. Air flow to his lungs decreased to a trickle. His vision started developing black spots around the edges.
Have to... retract arms... get leverage...
He pulled his extended limbs back, abandoning the attack to focus on survival. With both hands free, he grabbed the thread where it circled his neck and pulled with all of Gear Fourth's enhanced strength.
The cord didn't budge.
He tried different angles—yanking straight up, pushing down, twisting sideways—but Doflamingo's Ito Ito no Mi (String-String Fruit) threads were reinforced with decades of Haki refinement. The white line cut into his palms despite his own Armament Haki coating, but showed no signs of fraying, stretching, or weakening.
Fuffuffuffuffu!
Doflamingo's laugh echoed across the battlefield—theatrical and cruel. "What's wrong, Straw Hat Boy? Having trouble breathing?"
He yanked the thread like reins on a disobedient horse.
Luffy's body jerked forward violently, his neck extending to absurd lengths as the Gomu Gomu no Mi's properties prevented it from simply snapping. He tumbled across the bone surface, completely at the mercy of Doflamingo's manipulations.
"Come here!" YANK. Luffy flew left, slamming into a ridge of vertebrae.
"No, over there!" YANK. His trajectory reversed, sending him skidding across smooth bone plates.
"Actually, how about UP?" YANK. The thread pulled skyward, dragging Luffy dozens of meters into the air before—
SLAM!
—whipping him back down into the Founding Titan's spine with bone-cracking force.
Doflamingo played with him like a dog on a leash—no, worse than that. Like a toy. An object to be manipulated for entertainment, with no regard for dignity or suffering.
Any normal person would have had their neck broken within thirty seconds of this treatment. The vertebrae would shatter. The spinal cord would sever. Death would be instantaneous.
But Luffy's rubber body could deform endlessly, stretching and compressing without permanent structural damage. The very property that made him resistant to blunt force now prolonged his torture—keeping him alive and conscious while Doflamingo toyed with him.
Enough!
Luffy's eyes burned with determination even as oxygen deprivation made his thoughts sluggish. He activated Kensei—the animated sandals on his feet that had consumed the Chikara Chikara no Mi (Strength-Strength Fruit).
The footwear came alive, adjusting their internal gravity manipulation to propel their wearer forward. Suddenly Luffy wasn't just being pulled—he was pushing back, flying toward Doflamingo under his own power despite the strangling thread.
If the enemy wanted him close, fine. He'd get close. And then he'd punch that smug face until it stopped smiling.
Doflamingo's eyebrows rose slightly behind his sunglasses. "Oh? Those ridiculous slippers are a Devil Fruit user?" His grin took on a mocking edge. "What a waste, Straw Hat Boy. Making footwear eat something so valuable. Did your crew run out of actual members to empower?"
But he didn't seem concerned. His right hand moved through the air in a weaving pattern, creating something new—a small net of white threads that hovered between his fingers like a spider's web.
Come on then, his posture said. Let's see what you can do.
Luffy's neck had compressed to barely the thickness of a single finger now—impossibly thin, held together only by rubber's supernatural flexibility. His face was turning purple from oxygen deprivation. Blood vessels bulged in his temples and forehead.
But he could still speak. Barely.
"Doflamingo..." The words came out strangled, rasping, filled with absolute conviction. "I'm going to... avenge Law... You'll pay... for his life..."
His arms began to blur.
"GOMU GOMU NO... KONG GATLING!"
Stretch and retract. Stretch and retract. Faster and faster until individual fist-strikes became invisible—merging into a continuous stream of impacts that numbered in the hundreds within seconds. Each punch carried Armament Haki. Each strike aimed for vital points with desperate precision.
If two punches weren't enough, I'll throw a thousand! Ten thousand! However many it takes!
Rob Lucci had fallen to this technique. Crocodile had been overwhelmed by its relentless pressure. Against insurmountable defense, sheer volume of attacks could eventually break through—that was the lesson Luffy had learned through countless battles.
Doflamingo's response was almost casual.
"Torikago (Birdcage)."
He threw the woven net forward with a flick of his wrist, simultaneously releasing the strangling thread around Luffy's neck. The moment the cord detached from Doflamingo's control, the Ito Ito no Mi's power transformed it—shifting from a single thick line into a spreading web that perfectly matched the first net's pattern.
Two nets. One from the front. One from behind.
Luffy's Kong Gatling fired hundreds of Haki-coated fists into the approaching web. The impacts created thunderous percussion—BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG—like a drum roll building to crescendo.
And accomplished absolutely nothing.
The white threads didn't bend. Didn't break. Didn't even vibrate under the assault. Luffy's devastating barrage—the same technique that had shattered steel and pulverized stone—made zero impact on Doflamingo's creation.
What?! How is this—?!
Too late to dodge. The nets closed from opposite directions, sandwiching Luffy between them before contracting rapidly. In less than a second, they merged into a single spherical cage barely a meter in diameter—a tiny prison that trapped the Gear Fourth user in a hunched, cramped position.
Luffy immediately grabbed the white threads, muscles bulging as he tried to pry them apart. He pulled with everything Gear Fourth could muster—strength that could flip Marine battleships, force that could punch through mountains.
The cage didn't budge. Not even slightly.
He tried different grips, different angles, different applications of leverage. Pushed instead of pulled. Attempted to compress inward rather than expand outward. Channeled his remaining Armament Haki into his hands for maximum force multiplication.
Nothing worked. The Birdcage remained absolutely, impossibly immovable.
Even in Gear Fourth... I can't break it?
The realization hit like a physical blow. If his strongest form couldn't damage these threads, then his lower gears would be completely useless. He was trapped. Utterly and completely trapped.
Doflamingo walked closer, his shadow falling across the caged Straw Hat. "It's far too early for a rising star like you to challenge the Shichibukai," he said conversationally, as though discussing weather rather than imminent execution. "Monkey D. Luffy... you simply aren't ready for opponents at my level."