Donquixote Family Headquarters.
In the grand hall of the estate, a breeze stirred the curtains by the windows, drawing ripples in the fabric like waves on a still pond.
The open glass panes creaked softly in the wind. Dust danced lazily in sunbeams.
On a plush leather sofa, Doflamingo reclined in a white shirt, his head tilted back, a book covering his face.
Suddenly, he jolted violently from sleep, lurching forward with ragged gasps, his forehead beaded with cold sweat.
Breathing heavily, his eyes beneath the sunglasses were bloodshot and wild. He snatched a bottle of red wine from the side table and downed it in one savage gulp.
The crimson wine flowed down his throat and spilled over his collar, soaking his white shirt in dark stains. He didn't seem to notice.
At some point, Trebol and the others had entered, watching as Doflamingo shakily lit a cigar, their eyes shadowed with concern.
After a few deep drags, Doflamingo waved them off, slowly regaining composure.
The same dream again.
Burning walls. The fury of the rabble. His father's sobs. And that searing pain...
"How's business lately?"
Compared to the brash and reckless youth who'd first come to the North Blue, Doflamingo now bore a colder, more mature air.
He'd grown taller—ten centimeters at least. His sharp features, slicked-back blond hair, and the chill in his voice now exuded the detached pride of an underworld king.
Trebol twirled his staff excitedly, mucus dangling from his nose as he gestured wildly:
"I'm tellin' ya... after cleanin' house the past few months, the Donquixote Family's taken over almost every underground racket in the North Blue!"
"We're the undisputed kings of the underworld now!"
Diamante chimed in with equal excitement:
"It's all been too easy! No one's been able to stop our rise! At this rate, we'll have business reaching the Grand Line before the year's out!"
Pica shrieked with laughter:
"Even the arrogant kings and nobles of the North Blue wag their tails like mutts when they see us! Doffy, you should've seen their faces—hilarious!"
Hearing his inner circle speak with such pride and hope, Doflamingo's dark mood began to lift.
He licked his dry lips, a feral grin spreading across his face.
"The North Blue is just the first step. Once we've built up enough capital, we'll leave this place."
"I can feel it... a new era is coming."
His fist clenched. Behind the cold glint of his sunglasses, a storm was brewing.
A subtle, immense pressure radiated from him. The pink feathers of his coat rustled despite the still air.
Trebol and the others stared, their eyes filled with awe and fanatic reverence.
They had worried that after bending the knee to that Marine, their young master would lose his edge.
But clearly, that hadn't happened.
If anything, he was even more terrifying than before.
"But Young Master," Vergo's voice cut in, low and rough. He'd been silent till now.
"The taxes the Marines are taking... isn't it too much? We've built this vast network, yet over half the profits are going to the North Blue Marines."
Doflamingo's glare silenced him instantly.
"Some money we simply can't keep. Without the Marines' protection, our business would never have flourished this smoothly."
Smoke from his cigar curled around his face, casting deep shadows.
"Just wait. Darren won't stay in the North Blue forever..."
A sly, disdainful smirk crept across his lips.
"He thinks he's got me on a leash. But everyone slips eventually."
Trebol and the others shared knowing grins.
Yes—this was their true king.
A man who would never submit.
The conference hall exploded like it had been hit by a meteor. Walls crumbled under a thunderous shockwave.
A roaring storm of dust and debris engulfed the room, flinging Trebol and the others into the ruins with bone-shattering force. Blood splattered as they slammed into walls.
"Barorororo!!! Where is that brat Doflamingo!? Get out here and face me!!"
A hoarse, brutal laugh echoed through the smoke.
Covered in dust and shock, the Donquixote officers stared in disbelief at the hulking figure striding from the wreckage, horned helm gleaming.
"Who the hell are you!?"
"How dare you break into the Donquixote Family's base?!"
"You've got a death wish!!"
Roars of rage erupted as they leapt toward him with their attacks.
But they never even saw him move.
Their bodies flew like cannonballs, smashing through wall after wall as if struck by a freight train.
A storm of rubble followed.
A high-pitched crack of air.
Threads shot from Doflamingo's hands—razor-sharp, cutting through rock and floor as they slashed toward the intruder.
Doflamingo had finally made his move.
A screech like metal-on-metal. Sparks flew where the threads struck the man's chest.
Doflamingo's pupils shrank.
A black, gleaming sheen coated the man's torso—an invisible armor reflecting a ghostly glint.
Before the words had even left his lips, the man vanished.
A heavy fist slammed into Doflamingo's gut. His body folded inward, eyes bulging, mouth agape.
A giant hand seized his blond hair, yanking his head up.
A face emerged—rough, merciless, cruel.
"You're Doflamingo, huh?"
Byrnndi World sneered down at the bleeding warlord.
"Word is, you control all the arms trafficking in the North Blue. That true?"