Absolute Slaughter did not try to wrench her trapped armored blade free.
Instead, she pressed closer.
The black armor over her chest split open, exposing half of Holt's pale, bluish face. Yang Ming angled the heel of his hand away from the breastbone, but a tendril so thin it was almost transparent flicked out beside that face.
It sank into his temple.
There was no wound.
The sound of rain suddenly grew distant.
Yang Ming's vision went black. His fingers still gripped the base of the blade, but his body seemed to have been left several steps away.
"Found you."
The voice sounded right against his skull.
In the darkness, countless fine threads wound toward him, probing every breath, every muscle contraction. Absolute Slaughter tried to seize control of his hand and make him release his grip.
Yang Ming clenched his back teeth.
Trying to use the Doctor's own hand to take him apart.
The instant the first thread touched the depths of his consciousness, a suppressed will surged back against it.
Boom!
A ring rippled outward through the standing water.
Absolute Slaughter's laughter cut off.
The black armor around her head burst apart. Exposed beneath it, Holt gulped for air, while the armored blades along his shoulders and back lost their shape one after another. The psychic tendril pulled taut, then shattered inch by inch.
Skull Crusher's raised fist froze in midair.
Shriek's bite went wide, tearing off the protective layer on Blood Butcher's shoulder, but Shriek forgot to keep ripping.
Yang Ming staggered too.
His temple felt as though a needle had been driven into it.
Conqueror's Haki.
It had come harder than during training, and was harder to rein in.
He immediately suppressed the pressure and reached out to cradle the back of Holt's head. The man's