He didn't launch himself at Doflamingo. He simply vanished . A sonic boom cracked the air a second after he reappeared—directly above the Warlord, his shadow eclipsing the sun.
The words were not Luffy’s usual cheerful yell. They were a proclamation of natural law.
"You're finished, Straw Hat! You couldn't even touch me in your little rubber balloon form!" He swung his leg, a rain of razor-sharp "Goshikito" threads slicing toward the crumpled form of Monkey D. Luffy, who lay buried in the rubble of the royal plateau.
A shockwave rippled outwards, shattering the remaining windows of the palace. The steam became a vortex. When it cleared, the ground was scorched in a perfect circle.
Luffy was no longer a man. He was a titan of obsidian rubber, his skin a sheen of armament Haki. His torso was a barrel of coiled muscle, his arms laced with intricate, tribal patterns of pure, hardened will. His hair flamed up, wreathed in the same steam as his body. He was half again as tall as Doflamingo, but his legs were lean, his feet tapping the ground with a rhythmic, terrifying thump-thump-thump .
" "
Luffy didn't answer. He just tilted his head, a low, animalistic growl rumbling from his chest. He raised one fist. It wasn't a punch. It was a catapult . His entire arm, from the shoulder down, sank into his own bicep, coiling, condensing, storing impossible kinetic energy.
"Don't get up, Mingo. Because next time... I'm aiming for the sea floor."