A marine battle that should have been overwhelmingly one-sided ended in less than an hour.
The reason it took even that long was simply the time needed to salvage resources from the wreckage.
The final victor... was the Hell Pirates.
The three survivors departed on the only intact vessel remaining in the fleet.
Behind them, the ocean surface told its own grisly story, a crimson expanse dotted with countless corpses and scattered ship fragments that bobbed like macabre decorations across the waves. To any observer arriving later, it might have appeared that a massive marine engagement had taken place between evenly matched forces.
But the truth was far more terrifying. Almost every ship in that assembled fleet had been obliterated by Oboro alone, using his Qi Refining techniques with devastating efficiency.
New World, Dressrosa Kingdom
In the luxurious palace that served as the heart of his criminal empire, Doflamingo sat with characteristic elegance, his legs crossed as he leaned back into the plush sofa. Behind his signature red-tinted sunglasses, his eyes remained fixed on the Den Den Mushi resting on the nearby table with predatory intensity.
He had been waiting for what felt like an eternity.
The phone call that should have come, the one confirming the Hell Pirates' elimination, had never materialized. This delay filled him with mounting irritation, and a growing certainty that something had gone catastrophically wrong with his carefully orchestrated response.
"Hey~ Doffy~"
The nasal voice of Trebol interrupted his brooding as the slimy executive entered the chamber, his characteristic runny nose glistening in the ambient light.
"Speak," Doflamingo commanded, his smile taking on the dangerous edge that his subordinates had learned to fear.
"I found out about... the Hell Pirates," Trebol began, consulting the documents in his mucus-covered hands. "They set sail from the Kingdom of Nodis... commissioned a modest pirate vessel from the White Bird Shipyard for just over ten million berries. The order was placed very recently. By the way, the representative who went to collect payment from them hasn't returned... he's been confirmed dead."
Trebol handed over the intelligence report with obvious reluctance, knowing his boss wouldn't appreciate its contents.
"Nodis?" Doflamingo's grin widened with predatory recognition. "Fufufufu... they certainly made quite the statement for newcomers who just set sail. These upstarts must have tremendous confidence in their abilities."
His fingers began their characteristic tapping, a nervous tic that preceded his most violent outbursts. The sound echoed through the ornate chamber like a countdown to destruction.
"Hey hey~ Should we recall Diamante and the others? They're relatively close to that area..." Trebol suggested nervously, recognizing the warning signs in his captain's demeanor.
Puru puru puru.
The Den Den Mushi's distinctive ring finally shattered the tense silence. Doflamingo seized the receiver with barely controlled anticipation, his knuckles white with the force of his grip.
The snail's features immediately transformed to mirror those of the caller, a face twisted with absolute terror and shock.
"Joker! Dead... they're all dead!" the voice screamed through the connection, words tumbling over each other in panic. "Every ship, every crew, nothing survived! It was a massacre!"
"..."
Doflamingo felt blood vessels bulging on his forehead as rage threatened to consume his famous composure. The implications of this report struck him like physical blows, his authority in the North Blue had just suffered a devastating challenge, and the perpetrators were still at large.
Without bothering to hear the remainder of the survivor's babbling testimony, he slammed the receiver down with enough force to crack the table beneath it.
Deadly silence descended over the room like a suffocating blanket.
"Doffy... what are you thinking about?" Trebol ventured carefully, studying his boss's expression with growing concern.
The slimy executive found Doflamingo's hesitation deeply troubling. He understood better than anyone the fear their family's bounties commanded throughout the North Blue's criminal underworld. A rookie pirate crew with apparently only three members should have been crushed within hours of challenging their authority.
Yet somehow, impossibly, this upstart Hell Pirates had not only survived but systematically eliminated every hunter sent after them. The scale of the disaster defied rational explanation.
The political ramifications were equally devastating. Such a spectacular failure couldn't be concealed, word would spread throughout the North Blue's information networks like wildfire, carrying with it proof that the Donquixote Family could be successfully challenged. Even the Fishhead Island incident would inevitably come to light, further damaging their carefully cultivated reputation for invincibility.
The logical response was immediate and overwhelming retaliation. Deploy family executives to hunt down these pretenders and make such a brutal example of them that no one would dare similar challenges for years to come.
But Doflamingo's obvious uncertainty puzzled Trebol more than any tactical decision could have.
"Has the Marine located that other individual?" Doflamingo asked suddenly, his voice carrying undertones that suggested dangerous connections forming in his analytical mind.
"Who?" Trebol blinked in confusion before recognition dawned. "Ah... you mean the God Slayer?"
Recent months had seen dramatically reduced coverage of the infamous Celestial Dragon killer. The initial media frenzy had given way to sporadic speculation about his ultimate fate. Some publications claimed he'd been secretly eliminated by government forces, while others suggested he'd found sanctuary in the New World's lawless territories. The most sensational tabloids even proposed that he'd somehow reached the legendary Raftel, with his dramatic appearance at Roger's execution platform serving as prophetic symbolism.
That photograph, the God Slayer standing where the Pirate King had met his end, had become one of the most distributed images in maritime journalism history.
"No," Trebol replied with certainty. "No credible sightings or intelligence."
While outsiders remained ignorant, Doflamingo's position as a Shichibukai provided insider access to World Government intelligence networks. His family possessed detailed knowledge of the ongoing manhunt's consistent failures. After nearly a year of intensive searching involving unprecedented resources, the God Slayer remained as elusive as smoke.
The Donquixote Family had their own grudge against the notorious fugitive, Delinger's death during the Sabaody incident remained a painful reminder of their vulnerability to forces beyond their control.
Doflamingo's strategic thinking aligned with assessments made by Vice Admiral Tsuru and Fleet Admiral Sengoku. The New World belonged to the Four Emperors, and someone of the God Slayer's notoriety couldn't operate there without triggering massive power struggles. Similarly, the first half of the Grand Line remained under heavy Marine surveillance, making long-term concealment nearly impossible.
By process of elimination, the fugitive had to be hiding somewhere in the Four Blues, specifically, one of the three seas other than the East Blue, which had already been thoroughly combed.
But the sheer scope of those oceans made systematic searching impractical. As time passed and more immediate crises demanded attention, even the World Government's focus had inevitably dispersed. The chaos erupting constantly in the New World required Admiral-level intervention, leaving fewer resources available for pursuing ghosts in distant waters.
The North Blue and West Blue, with their complex political landscapes and chaotic environments, had seen pursuit intensity diminish even further. The world contained many dangerous individuals beyond just the God Slayer.
Now, at this precise moment, nearly a year after the Celestial Dragon's assassination, a mysteriously powerful new pirate had emerged from nowhere to challenge established authority in the North Blue.
The timing was too convenient to be coincidental.
Doflamingo acknowledged that every era produced rising stars, ambitious individuals who challenged existing hierarchies through sheer determination and capability. But the Hell Pirates' approach transcended normal rookie arrogance. They had directly declared war on his family without apparent regard for consequences, displaying power that seemed impossible for unknown newcomers.
Most troubling was the intelligence vacuum surrounding their origins. The North Blue served as the Donquixote Family's primary base of operations, they possessed extensive surveillance networks and detailed files on every significant player in the region. If someone with these capabilities had been operating from the Kingdom of Nodis, such power couldn't have remained hidden indefinitely.
The North Blue's constant warfare made concealment of genuine strength virtually impossible. Anyone possessing such abilities would have inevitably become involved in regional conflicts, generating the kind of reputation that reached even Doflamingo's ears.
Yet these Hell Pirates had apparently materialized from absolute obscurity to challenge one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
"Fufufufufufufu!"
Doflamingo's laughter erupted with manic intensity, his aura pressing against the chamber's windows until the glass creaked ominously under supernatural pressure. Furniture throughout the room began trembling as his barely contained power sought outlets for expression.
"Doffy?" Trebol called uncertainly, recognizing the signs of his captain's most dangerous moods.
"Whether it's actually you or not... the Hell Pirates have definitely captured my interest," Doflamingo declared with predatory satisfaction, rising from his seat with fluid grace.
The pieces were falling into place with elegant symmetry. If his suspicions proved correct, the North Blue was about to become far more interesting than it had been in years.
North Blue, Hell Pirates Territory
Overnight, that name echoed throughout every criminal hideout, government office, and merchant guild in the North Blue.
The news had spread with viral intensity, carrying details that defied rational belief.
This group of complete unknowns had assaulted Fishhead Island, a facility directly controlled by the Donquixote Family's industrial network. When faced with a coordinated fleet response involving dozens of ships and hundreds of experienced pirates, they had somehow emerged victorious.
Not just victorious, they had achieved total annihilation of their enemies.
The scope of destruction resembled something from epic legends rather than maritime reality. A single individual ending what amounted to a marine war through personal power alone challenged every assumption about the limitations of human capability.
What manner of monster-level newcomer possessed such overwhelming strength?
Could this herald the emergence of another absolute powerhouse destined for legendary status among the seas' most feared names?
The North Blue possessed a well-deserved reputation for producing exceptional individuals. Red-Hair Pirates vice-captain Ben Beckman had originated from these waters, along with Whitebeard Pirates' Flower Sword Vista and the notorious Heavenly Demon Doflamingo himself. Even among the Marine's leadership, two of the three Admirals claimed North Blue origins.
The region's talent production exceeded any of the other Four Blues by substantial margins.
However, reviewing the careers of these legendary figures revealed that none had achieved such dramatic impact during their rookie periods. Even the most ambitious newcomers typically required years to build reputations that commanded regional attention.
Yet intelligence reports suggested the Hell Pirates had formed mere weeks ago, their organization apparently constructed from nothing before launching their unprecedented assault on established power structures.
Within hours, every intelligence network in the North Blue had begun compiling detailed dossiers on the Hell Pirates, their membership, capabilities, and potential objectives. The information gathered painted an increasingly disturbing picture that challenged conventional understanding of what rookie pirate crews could accomplish.
The age of peaceful North Blue operations was officially over. A new player had entered the game, and their opening move suggested they intended to rewrite every rule that had previously governed regional power dynamics.
From the shadows of obscurity, the Hell Pirates had emerged to become the most discussed and feared name in North Blue waters. Their legend was just beginning, and already it promised to reshape the maritime world's understanding of what qualified as possible.