He’d punched the gorilla. The shockwave cracked the mountain behind it. But then he deflated. He collapsed. For an hour, he couldn’t move. He was a shriveled, gasping doll in the mud, watching ants crawl over his fingers. For the first time in his life, Monkey D. Luffy felt vulnerable . He hated it.
Luffy cracked his neck. Then his knuckles. gear fourth
The door creaked.
He looked up. His face split into that wide, goofy grin. The one that never changed, whether he was a boy in Foosha Village or the Emperor who punched a Yonko. He’d punched the gorilla
He muttered the words aloud in the quiet cabin. His fist began to darken. Coating. The black of Busoshoku spread up his wrist like ink in water. Then, he bit down on his thumb. He collapsed
“Kong Gun.”
The pain was blinding. It felt like his skin was a prison and his blood was a riot. He inflated his arm until the rubber turned from black (Hardening) to a deep, glossy violet. He looked like a demon.