Outside Pangaea Castle
At the gates to the Domain of the Gods, a squad of around ten Holy Guards stood watch. They quickly noticed three Celestial Dragons—two men and one woman—sitting cross-legged atop the backs of their slaves, followed by several attendants in black suits. They even had their bubble helmets in place, clearly planning an outing.
As the Celestial Dragons approached, a squad captain gave a respectful salute and asked, "Saint Winifred, may I ask where you're headed?"
"Open the gate. Lord Leopold, Lady Veronica, and I are going to the Sabaody Archipelago for a little leisure!"
Saint Winifred declared haughtily.
The captain's expression, hidden beneath his helmet, revealed clear unease as he said, "Saint Winifred, the Five Elders issued an order some time ago—without explicit permission, no Celestial Dragon is allowed to leave the Domain of the Gods."
"Hmph! So what?" Winifred snapped, clearly furious. "I'm going stir-crazy in here! I just want to go out and have some fun for a few days—of course I'll come back! Now open the gate for me!"
Of course he knew about the Five Elders' command.
But in his mind, just stepping out to enjoy himself a little didn't warrant having his Celestial Dragon status revoked.
Besides, he had brought Leopold and Veronica along with him.
No one would dare revoke a Celestial Dragon's status over something like this—
Not even the Five Elders… right?
"…I'm very sorry," the captain said through gritted teeth. "But I cannot disobey the Five Elders' order."
"How dare you?!"
Winifred, utterly enraged, pulled a flintlock pistol from his pocket without a word and immediately pulled the trigger on the captain.
[Bang!]
The bullet shot forward—but the Saint Guard armor was far from ornamental.
The moment the bullet struck the chest plate, it pinged off with a sharp metallic clang and ricocheted straight back.
Everyone nearby instantly went pale—from the captain, to the surrounding guards, to Winifred himself.
Shigan!
In that split second of crisis, a man in a black suit—who had been standing behind the three Celestial Dragons—flashed forward in a blur.
With a single extended index finger moving like a ghostly afterimage, he deflected the bullet in mid-air.
[Whoosh—]
All the Saint Guards let out a collective sigh of relief.
The captain did too—
But deep down, he knew he was in serious trouble.
No matter how it happened, the fact remained:
The bullet had rebounded off of his armor and nearly struck a Celestial Dragon.
In the eyes of the law, that could easily be seen as an attack on a Celestial Dragon.
"You dare… attack me!?"
Sure enough, as Winifred recovered from the shock, his face turned crimson with rage.
He exploded in fury, though this time, he didn't dare raise the pistol again.
Inside his helmet, the captain's gaze had turned utterly hopeless.
He was doomed.
The best-case scenario?
Becoming a slave… and being tortured to death.
"You!" Winifred roared at the CP7 agent who had just saved him. "Kill him! Beat him to death for me!"
Leopold and Veronica sneered coldly, watching with gleeful contempt.
They were clearly looking forward to watching the captain be beaten to death.
The other two CP7 members remained silent, standing expressionless in the background.
Just as the CP7 agent who had received the order was about to take action, the familiar sound of a Den-Den Mushi playing filled the air.
He paused and pulled out a miniature Den-Den Mushi.
A moment later, the snail spoke—its voice icy and merciless: "Saint Winifred has attacked a Saint Guard, an act considered as forcefully breaching the gates of the Domain of the Gods. This is a severe violation of the Five Elders' decree.
As per regulation, his Celestial Dragon status is hereby permanently revoked. He shall no longer enjoy any privileges or special rights."
"The order is to immediately arrest Winifred and imprison him in the Holy Land prison."
The voice stopped cold.
The Den-Den Mushi closed its eyes and fell silent without another word.
Winifred, however, was stricken with pure terror.
Even Leopold and Veronica, who had been mocking just moments earlier, hastily climbed off their slaves and scrambled four or five meters away from him in panic.
At the same time, the CP7 agent slowly turned around.
His cold eyes locked onto Winifred.
...
North Blue, Spider Miles Island.
This was a harbor town covered with stone buildings, stone slabs, and chimneys, shrouded all day in grayish-white smoke. The inhabitants of the island primarily made their living through heavy industry, which is why the beaches were littered with industrial scrap equipment.
Several years ago, Doflamingo had chosen this place, bringing along Vergo, Trebol, Pica, and Diamante to set up base.
The island already had the necessary equipment and labor to mass-produce the firearms, grenades, and other weapons they needed, which they then sold to various kingdoms across the North Blue.
Over the past year, as the family's reputation grew, their business and influence had tentatively begun to extend into the Grand Line.
Everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly—until today. Seventeen-year-old Doflamingo received some frustrating news.
Vergo walked into the room and said gravely to Doflamingo, who was lounging on a red sofa, "Doffy, there's trouble on Black Island."
"Another idiot causing problems?"
"Aren't Germa and Elro stationed there? Just have them deal with it," Doflamingo replied lazily, eyes closed.
"The one causing trouble is Douglas Bullet, a former member of the Pirate King's crew—the Roger Pirates. He's known as the 'Heir of the Devil,'" Vergo continued, his expression unmoved. "As for Germa and the others, they're probably already dead. I tried calling again just now—no one answered."
"Hm?!"
Upon hearing Bullet's name, Doflamingo abruptly opened his eyes. His sharp gaze locked onto Vergo. "So it's him. What rotten luck—to run into that harbinger of doom. Looks like Black Island is finished."
He had, of course, heard of Bullet's recent rampage and slaughter in the Grand Line. But now that they'd actually crossed paths... it was honestly unbearable.
Black Island had been his first outpost in the Grand Line. He'd hoped to use it as a relay point to expand the family's operations and influence.
Now that this incident had occurred, he knew their push into the Grand Line would have to wait a few more years. In the underworld, failures were rarely forgiven.
Since Black Island had flown the Donquixote Family's banner, having it destroyed meant failure. They would have to wait for the impact of this event to fade over time—and they needed to become even stronger.
"Should I take a squad there?" Vergo asked.
In his mind, although Bullet had once been a member of Roger's crew, he was only twenty-one years old. Four years older than himself. As long as they brought along a few officers, they might be able to deal with him together.
"No."
Doflamingo shook his head and rejected the proposal with a wicked grin. "There's no need for us to make a move. That monster's made too much noise—someone else will clean him up. All we have to do is offer a little help. Fufufufufu…"
Vergo listened in silence, not understanding why Doflamingo was laughing so much.
...
Grand Line, near the middle stretch of Route Four, a warship adorned with a dog-head figurehead led four regular navy ships, maintaining formation as they sailed steadily across the sea.
Hurried footsteps were heard as an officer quickly emerged from the lower deck. He came to a halt, saluted, and then, under the watchful gaze of Rear Admiral Bogard at his side, loudly reported to the tall figure standing with his back turned.
"Reporting to Vice Admiral Garp! We've just received intelligence from CP5—they've confirmed the location of Douglas Bullet!"
Garp turned around with a wide grin and burst out laughing.
"Bwahaha, is that so? So we've finally found him. Those Cipher Pol brats have been doing a fine job lately!"
He had been tracking Bullet for days, but every time they arrived at a crime scene, Bullet was already gone. After all, Bullet operated alone, and his mobility clearly outpaced the fleet.
"Well then, what are we waiting for? Full speed ahead!" Garp shouted.
"Yes, Vice Admiral!" the colonel responded immediately, turning and running back inside the ship.
Not long after, the entire fleet turned and sped toward Route Four. It took about two and a half days before they reached Black Island.
"What's the latest from CP5? Is that brat still there?" Garp asked as he gazed at the black dot slowly emerging on the horizon. The colonel behind him promptly replied, "Yes. After killing everyone on the island, Bullet seems to be resting there for a few days."
"Resting?"
Garp curled his lip.
"I think he's doing it on purpose—waiting for us. He knows he's gone too far recently. He must've figured the Navy would come after him, so he picked an island to recover his strength. But that brat definitely didn't expect me to come in person. I'll pound a few punches into him—consider it teaching Roger's bastard crewmate a lesson!"