The crumpled newspaper slipped from his fingers and drifted to the floor.
A sudden breeze fluttered through the open window, catching the curtains and sending them into a slow, spiraling dance—like waves folding over waves.
Donquixote Doflamingo leaned back into the soft leather of his armchair, one hand draped over his forehead, the other holding his cigarette, long since gone cold.
A low laugh rumbled in his throat.
"Hehhahaha…"
The corners of his lips curled into a grin, laughter growing louder, breath catching in between.
"A lunatic… an absolute lunatic…"
"Byrnndi World, one of the last living monsters of the old era… really taken down in the North Blue? By him!?"
His voice cracked as he spoke, disbelieving. Just picturing it—that man, the one who once crushed even Doflamingo himself like a child, now lying cold and broken in some forgotten battlefield—it was so absurd, so unreal, that he laughed until his whole body shook.
Not far from the family council chamber, Trebol and the others stood frozen, eyes locked on the headlines. Their faces were masks of pure disbelief.
Then—
"So? Do you like the outcome?"
The voice was smooth, calm—and laced with quiet amusement. It echoed as it approached.
Trebol and the others flinched. A chill ran down their spines.
Then came the sound—BOOM!—a blast of displaced air and magnetism. And from above, a tall figure descended, riding a sleek silver hoverboard that hummed with raw energy.
He landed in perfect balance. The Justice cloak rippled behind him.
The board, as if alive, slithered upward, transforming midair into a silver-metal bracer that locked neatly around his wrist.
Rogers Darren.
Doflamingo looked up from his seat and smiled faintly.
"Well, I didn't expect this… Godfather."
Darren strode across the chamber, stopping before Doflamingo. His eyes were sharp, unreadable, and filled with something far more dangerous than anger—command.
He extended his left hand.
"You are my godson, Doffy."
His voice was soft, but his gaze hardened into slits.
"And I want you to remember this—anyone who dares to harm you… will face the punishment they deserve."
He leaned slightly closer.
"Anyone."
Doflamingo's smile faltered. For a breath, he was silent.
Then, without a word, he dropped to one knee, bowed his head, and lightly kissed the back of Darren's offered hand.
"Thank you, Godfather," he said quietly.
Darren's smile returned, pleased.
"Rise. Now—what's the situation in the underground lately?"
Doflamingo stood, his posture composed again.
"Nothing major has changed. Under your protection, the Donquixote Family now controls nearly all major sectors of the North Blue's underworld."
"As for the Grand Line, we've made inroads. Several routes and trade networks have already been broken open. I believe it won't be long before the Donquixote flag flies across those waters as well."
Darren nodded, then offered a subtle warning.
"Just watch your pace. The Grand Line isn't the North Blue. Move too quickly, and you'll draw attention—not all of it favorable."
Doflamingo blinked.
The meaning was clear. The Grand Line was full of unpredictable powers. The Marine branches marked with "G" scattered across the route, and the monsters who called Marineford home—they weren't the kind of enemies one picked a fight with lightly.
Here in the North, he had free reign—because Darren, the true King of the North Blue, stood behind him.
But the Grand Line was another world.
"Patience, Doffy," Darren said gently, ruffling the younger man's hair with surprising affection.
Doflamingo hesitated.
"Godfather… when will you depart for Marineford?"
"In less than a week," Darren replied. "I'll leave two days early."
He glanced over his shoulder—Trebol and the others had vanished without a trace.
Darren sighed. "Before I go, I want you to handle something for me."
Doflamingo lowered his head, shadows from his sunglasses darkening his expression.
"Say the word, Godfather."
"Byrnndi World died here, in the North Blue," Darren said, lighting a cigar. Smoke coiled around his chiseled features.
"I want you to activate every contact, above ground and below, and track down everything related to the Moa Moa no Mi."
Doflamingo's pupils contracted behind his lenses.
The Moa Moa no Mi.
A Paramecia-type fruit that allowed the user to multiply the speed and size of anything they touched—including their own body. He'd seen it firsthand, watched World's overwhelming force up close.
Was this Darren's goal from the very beginning?
To take the fruit?
"I understand. I'll find it," he said quietly.
"Good." Darren turned, the bracer on his wrist melting back into its sleek hoverboard form, hovering near his feet.
He stepped on.
Just as Doflamingo relaxed, thinking the godfather was about to leave—
"Doffy."
Darren's voice came again, sharp and close.
Doflamingo's heart lurched in his chest.
"Yes, Godfather?"
Darren smiled without warmth.
"I'm leaving the North Blue to you now."
"I expect great things from you. Don't disappoint me… understood?"
Doflamingo bowed his head lower.
"You have my word."
"One more thing—if you can't reach me directly, contact Momonga. He'll be taking over as the next Supreme Commander of the North Blue in my place."
With that, Darren turned forward.
The magnetic field surged, and with a thunderous pulse, the hoverboard launched him skyward, vanishing into the clouds.
The impact rocked the council chamber. Wind whipped through the open windows, scattering papers and sending the heavy curtains into a wild frenzy.
Doflamingo remained kneeling, breathing heavily. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He hadn't even noticed it forming.
"Doffy! You alright!?"
Trebol and the others peeked in nervously from the side entrance, looking around to confirm Darren was truly gone.
"What the hell did that guy want from you?"
"…He asked me to find a Devil Fruit."
Doflamingo slowly stood, hands braced against his knees.
He reached for the nearest cigarette, lit it with a trembling hand, and took several sharp drags.
His eyes were bloodshot.
"That bastard…" he rasped.
"He's gotten even stronger."
---
To be continued…