He suddenly understood where that faint sense of wrongness came from-beneath this family's seemingly calm waters, two hidden reefs had always lain submerged, drawing toward each other even as they pushed each other away.
If two orders pointed in opposite directions, which way should the ship turn?
That question had probably lodged like a tiny thorn in everyone's heart long ago.
That was why Trebol had panicked so badly.
Once this fight was over, the ship they were on might well split in two.
"Fufufu... you haven't changed, Rossi."
Doflamingo also took a slender sword from the rack and picked up an old-fashioned ** with his other hand.
He stood across the field, his gaze behind his lenses like polished glass. "If we only fought hand to hand, I couldn't beat you."
That was true.
No one in the family could overpower Rossi in unarmed combat.
Pica's fists hit hard enough, but they couldn't catch the wind; Vergo was as tough as a reef, but lacked the finesse of indirect movements; as for Jora, she had long since grown accustomed to relying on illusions woven by her Devil Fruit ability.
"Your Calm-Calm Fruit isn't much use in a head-on fight."
Doflamingo curled his fingers slightly, and a faint glimmer of silver flashed through the air, so quickly it might have been an illusion. "My String-String Fruit... is different."
The sound of blades cutting through the air was as fine and dense as rain.
Strings surged in from every direction, each pulled perfectly taut, gleaming with a metallic chill in the sunlight.
They had been hidden in the shadows of buildings, in cracks in the ground, even among drifting dust motes. Now they awakened together, weaving a net of death.
Rossi did not retreat.
The sword in his hand traced an