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We've hit 100 Powerstones. This is the Bonus Chapter
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Thunder shook the sky. The world trembled.
The battle between Jin and Whitebeard had devolved into something brutally simple—a raw exchange of fist against fist.
It was primal.
At their level, technique was an afterthought. The mastery of force and Haki was already infused into every blow, every movement, a second nature that bordered on instinct.
When all technique is equal, or nearly so, it is the contest of pure power that decides the victor.
Their movements were a blur of intense, world-breaking conflict.
Once more, they clashed.
Whitebeard's fists and feet unleashed waves of pure vibration—each movement held the power to shatter the island, to obliterate mountains.
Jin met him with the force of a lightning storm.
The collision sent a violent shockwave tearing through the air. Space itself seemed to fracture and splinter, and the very ground beneath them was pulverized into dust.
Jin was sent flying, blood erupting from his lips. Cracks spiderwebbed across his arms, blood streaming from the fissures, the lightning that wreathed his body threatening to dissipate.
Whitebeard had perfected the use of the Gura Gura no Mi. Every clash sent a sympathetic vibration through flesh and bone—a force that bypassed Armament Haki and surface defenses to strike directly at the vital organs.
It could even cause "elements" to resonate, inflicting damage on Logia users.
Its destructive potential was even greater than that of advanced Haki techniques.
In essence, every one of Whitebeard's attacks dealt a percentage of "true damage."
No matter how strong one's Armament Haki was, it was a force that flowed on the outside. Its ability to protect the soft internal organs—the lungs, the heart—was limited. Even the strongest Haki users couldn't take many of those blows.
This was precisely why Jin had chosen the Goro Goro no Mi over a Zoan. Against an opponent who specialized in "armor piercing" and "true damage," the only answer was to have a higher attack power, a greater burst.
Of course, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
These "sympathetic vibrations" also took a toll on Whitebeard's own body.
Even with his monstrous physique and natural resistance, the accumulated damage from a lifetime of brutal battles had left him with a multitude of hidden injuries. His internal organs were a shattered wreck.
This was the very reason Marco and the other commanders were so protective, why they hesitated to let him fight—and why the world's strongest man was tethered to IV drips in his old age.
Compared to him, his contemporaries—Garp, Sengoku, Tsuru—were in far better health.
Whitebeard stumbled back, his breathing heavy. Arcs of electricity clung to him, tearing at his flesh, leaving him bloodied.
Jin's attacks were also taking their toll, the Haki-infused lightning penetrating his defenses and ravaging his organs.
As he steadied himself, he coughed up a mouthful of black blood, thick with clots.
"Pops!" Marco and the other commanders cried out.
"Gurararara... This is nothing!" Whitebeard roared, laughing as if he were still the same unstoppable force of nature from his prime. He threw another punch at Jin.
A massive shockwave gathered at his fist.
A strange vibration filled the air, a terrifying presence that saturated every inch of space.
The air cracked. The ground sank. A transparent rift in space, miles long, spread out from his fist. The sky trembled, the sea churned, and everything seemed to shatter. It was a single, world-ending blow.
"This ends now, boy!" Whitebeard bellowed, his body pushed to its absolute limit as he gathered the last of his strength for one final, ultimate attack.
The land for miles around was torn apart by the tremor.
The ground split open, great chunks of it breaking off and being thrown into the air, where they were instantly pulverized.
It was a scene of utter, world-breaking devastation.
Jin took a deep breath, bracing himself against the shockwave.
Above him, a storm cloud had gathered. In an instant, a thousand bolts of lightning, blindingly bright, descended from the sky.
They poured into Jin's body. His Thunder God form swelled, growing to a height of ten meters.
It was a terrifying, living storm.
But this transformation was different from Enel's towering 'Amaru.' Jin's concept of a thunder god was something more brutal.
He had a bare chest and massive, rippling muscles, with two wings sprouting from his back. He had a third eye in his forehead, and his feet were like an eagle's talons.
He reached up and, from the storm cloud, pulled down a "thunder hammer." With a swing, a deafening peal of thunder echoed through the air.
Or more accurately, his fist had become the hammer.
The sound of thunder rolled and crashed, and bolt after bolt of blindingly bright lightning coiled around his fist, weaving themselves into a warhammer.
The Thunderclap Warhammer.
The thunder god's chest rose and fell, his entire body crackling with lightning, spewing forth a terrifying, world-shaking power.
Since ancient times, in every mythology, the thunder god has been the embodiment of might, of power, of justice.
With a roar, Whitebeard and Jin both threw their punches, charging forward, their fists crossing in mid-air.
They didn't try to block.
Their attacks—unstoppable—slammed into each other's bodies.
The impact was a cataclysm.
A shockwave erupted from the point of impact, a storm that tore apart the shattered rocks and broken mountains and kicked up a tsunami of dust and debris.
The earth rolled like the sea, the ground torn asunder, trees ripped out by their roots, all of it disintegrating in the swirling chaos.
In the distance, the reinforced mountain of the G-5 fortress cracked.
Massive waves, thousands of meters high, rose from the sea.
This was a duel between kings, a battle at the absolute summit, with nothing held back.
The island itself seemed to be on the verge of collapse.
The other battles on the island ground to a halt as everyone scrambled for safety, terrified of being caught in the aftershock.
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"My god! What's happening??"
"Help me...!"
The weaker ones, even those clinging to trees, were swept away.
"They're too strong!"
Everyone was filled with a sense of awe, of reverence.
Were they even human?
No one who witnessed it could calm the frantic beating of their hearts.
After what felt like an eternity, the dust and light finally settled. The port was gone, replaced by a massive crater.
Whitebeard stood, his bisento held in one hand. He was like an unfallen giant.
Powerful, ferocious, with an indomitable will.
But his body was charred, his chest caved in, a horrifying, bloody gash torn open, deep enough to see the bone. Blood streamed from the wound.
He was seriously injured.
Marco and the other commanders took a sharp, collective breath.
Across from him, Jin was also still standing. He had taken the full force of Whitebeard's final punch, and he coughed up a mouthful of his own blood.
Blood dripped from his fist.
His fist, his arms, his entire body... were covered in a network of fine cracks from the vibration.
Blood seeped from the wounds.
But he stood tall, his presence not diminished in the slightest. He was even more confident than before.
His clothes were in tatters, his upper body bare, his steel-forged muscles still rippling with power.
Through this battle with a true powerhouse, he had trained a fearless heart, a spirit that looked down upon the world.
Whitebeard could feel it. The young man before him was growing, using this battle, this victory, as fuel.
After all, that was how they had all risen to power. By defeating one strong opponent after another, they had built their confidence, their spirit.
They had forged an invincible will.
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