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Chapter 426: Ten Thousand Meters in the Air, Whitebeard Kicks Blackbeard Out of the Plane!
The ear-piercing roar of the engine was like a rusty saw, mercilessly tearing at everyone's eardrums.
Just as the white light of the dungeon teleportation dissipated, the entire cabin violently jolted. This sudden, unprovoked turbulence threw several big shots, who were entirely used to anchoring their stances with Haki, completely off balance.
Standing on the anti-slip metal decking, Garp's face was written with pure excitement. He forcefully clenched his massive right fist, the friction of his joints emitting a few crisp pops. The surrounding air didn't produce a single visible ripple. It didn't even stir up the slightest breeze.
"My Chakra is completely gone!" Garp split into a wide grin, incredibly delighted. He turned his head and roared at Sengoku, who was busy adjusting his clothes. "This game really didn't lie; I can't squeeze out even a trace of Haki!"
Excitedly swinging his right arm, Garp viciously slapped the rusty metal bulkhead beside him.
Clang! A massive crash echoed, and Garp instantly sucked in a breath of cold air. The violent recoil stung his palm to the bone. He shook his reddened hand, clicking his tongue in wonder. It really had been a long time since he experienced the true, fragile body of a mortal.
On the other side of the cabin, Kaido looked down, pulling at the worn-out work shirt the system had forcefully dressed him in. On his normally broad, thick chest, that layer of indestructible black dragon scales was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't just the scales; even his demonic muscles, which normally looked as if they were forged from steel, had significantly shrunk, replaced by the slightly rough skin of an ordinary burly man.
"That brat Blake didn't lie, this body really has reverted entirely to a mortal." Kaido pinched the flesh on his stomach. Without the enhancement of Armament Haki, his current defense probably couldn't even stop a standard flintlock bullet.
He turned his head to look at Doflamingo beside him. Doflamingo's ten fingers were rapidly and pointlessly twitching in the air. Nothing happened. Not a single transparent string emerged from his fingertips. That incredibly flashy pink feather coat was currently shivering in the freezing wind leaking into the cabin, making him look exactly like a plucked flamingo.
"The strings are gone." Doflamingo pushed up the red-framed sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Taking a deep breath, he felt that even expanding his lungs was much more strenuous than usual. "With this weak body, I'd probably cough up my lungs running ten kilometers at full speed." He laughed self-deprecatingly, though there wasn't much dejection in his tone.
Just as the crowd was still examining their mortal vessels, the red warning lights on the ceiling of the cabin suddenly began to flash frantically. Accompanied by the heavy grinding of mechanical gears, the massive metal ramp at the tail of the plane crashed open.
The outside scenery was finally laid bare before these prominent figures without any reservation. The sub-zero, high-altitude cold currents slashed into the cabin like tangible knives. These powerhouses, who in the past could fight shirtless in freezing blizzards, all uncontrollably shuddered. Without Haki to protect them, mortal flesh and blood simply couldn't withstand this extreme cold.
Blake's mocking, electronic voice echoed punctually through the cabin broadcast.
⌁ "Attention players, you have arrived at Erangel. Keep an eye on the electronic maps on your wrists and pick a good place to parachute. I will only offer one warning: anyone who hasn't jumped by the time the flight path ends can turn to ash along with this plane." ⌁
This emotionless countdown warning instantly ignited the atmosphere inside the cabin.
Biting down on an unlit cigar, Akainu took long strides to the absolute edge of the ramp. He leaned out, looking down. All that greeted his eyes were thick, churning white clouds. His line of sight couldn't pierce the fog at all; the ground below was completely invisible.
This was an absolute altitude of over ten thousand meters. A normal human's physiological fear of such heights gripped Akainu's heart like an invisible hand. His legs went stiff, completely out of his control, and a violent urge to vomit rushed straight from his stomach to his throat.
Instinctively, he tried to activate his Mag-Mag Fruit to provide himself with a sense of levitation through recoil. His Dantian was entirely empty. His body felt like a heavy lump of iron, devoid of any buoyant response.
Akainu clamped his jaw shut so hard he chewed the filter of his cigar into mush. Acrophobia? A fine layer of cold sweat broke out across his forehead. What a joke! This old man absolutely refuses to allow himself such a cowardly reaction! Forcing his spine straight, he didn't allow himself to take a single step back. The fingers gripping the guardrail at the edge of the door were completely drained of blood, turning white from excessive force.
Right behind him, Aokiji let out a heavy sneeze, rubbing his freezing, red nose. "Arara..." In the past, this high-altitude, low-temperature environment would have been as comfortable as a hot spring for his Ice-Ice Fruit. But now, he could only shove his hands deep into his pockets, relying on friction for warmth.
Wearing a pair of yellow goggles, Kizaru pursed his lips as he watched the howling gales outside. "How terrifying... jumping from such a high place without the Glint-Glint Fruit truly is a game of gambling with one's life." He slowly zipped up his windbreaker.
On the other side, the Whitebeard Pirates appeared entirely fearless.
"Gurararara! Even reduced to a normal human, I am still the strongest man on these seas!" Edward Newgate let out a heroic, booming laugh. With practiced ease, he strapped the massive parachute pack onto his broad back.
Marco and Vista were also helping each other check their waist buckles.
Only "Blackbeard" Marshall D. Teach had completely thrown his pride away, rolling frantically on the floor.
"Pops! You can't jump!" Teach bawled, snot and tears streaming down his face. His arms and legs were wrapped around a metal pillar bolted to the floor like an octopus, refusing to let go. "Jumping from this high up—if the chute doesn't open, we'll be splattered into a puddle of meat paste!"
Teach was inherently someone who was extremely greedy for life and terrified of death. This was especially true now that he had lost the Dark-Dark Fruit and his abnormally resilient constitution. He figured that staying on the plane and eventually being blown up was still far better than falling to his death in midair with absolutely nothing to leverage.
Whitebeard didn't have the patience to listen to Teach's humiliating wails. Taking a long stride over, he grabbed Teach's tattered collar with one hand and forcibly hoisted the massive Blackbeard up like a dead dog. Then, raising his right foot, Whitebeard unceremoniously kicked him squarely in the ass.
Like a heavy, leaking sandbag, Teach flew straight out of the open cabin door.
"Ahhh— Help—!"
The wretched, drawn-out scream was swiftly and completely swallowed by the violent winds and churning clouds outside.
Clapping his hands, Whitebeard turned back to beckon his sons. "Let's go. Let's head down and see exactly how this so-called battle royale game is played."
With that, Whitebeard took two steps out the door and leaped. Marco and Vista didn't hesitate in the slightest, closely following their Pops into the abyss.
Watching from the side, Garp's blood was boiling. He felt this kind of hand-to-hand combat, where he didn't have to worry about any pesky Devil Fruit abilities, suited his tastes perfectly.
He looked over to where Sengoku was currently wearing his reading glasses, holding a parachute instruction manual provided by the system. Sengoku wasn't reading it for himself; he was reading it out loud, trying to sternly brief his three trembling Marine recruits who looked like they were about to pass out.
"Listen closely!" Sengoku barked over the roaring wind. "Step one is to secure the primary harness! If you fail to check the reserve latch—"
"BWAHAHAHA! Jump, old friend! Let's get down there and go wild!" Garp roared, marching over and enthusiastically slapping Sengoku squarely on the back.
The sheer force of Garp's "friendly" slap sent Sengoku stumbling forward. His feet slipped on the metal grating, and the Fleet Admiral tumbled straight out of the open cabin door.
"GARP, YOU BRAINLESS OLD BASTARD!!!" Sengoku's furious roar faded rapidly into the abyss, his manual flying off into the clouds.
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