Doflamingo has returned to the North Blue!
While this wasn't entirely unprecedented—the Heavenly Demon had made periodic returns to his old territory in the past—the circumstances surrounding this particular visit carried special significance that rippled through every corner of the region's political landscape.
All the major powers operating throughout the North Blue couldn't help but watch with keen anticipation, understanding exactly what his presence meant for the current crisis.
Everyone knew the Donquixote Family had returned for one purpose alone: to eliminate the Hell Pirates once and for all.
Within the opulent dining hall of a wealthy kingdom's royal palace, three figures sat around a luxurious table laden with the finest cuisine money could acquire. The spread before them represented the desperate hospitality of a monarch seeking to appease guests whose continued presence guaranteed both protection and profound unease.
Dom reclined casually in his chair, one boot resting on the prostrate king's head while he tore into a piece of roasted meat with obvious satisfaction. The casual humiliation spoke to the complete reversal of power dynamics that had occurred since the Hell Pirates' arrival.
Across from him, Yurivich maintained his characteristic silence, methodically consuming the elaborate dishes with mechanical efficiency. Food was fuel to be processed rather than enjoyed, each bite calculated to maintain his enhanced physiology's extraordinary demands.
In stark contrast to his subordinates' casual brutality, Oboro embodied refined elegance as he sipped vintage wine from a crystal goblet. His gentleman's hat sat at the perfect angle, his black suit remained immaculate despite their recent activities, and his entire bearing radiated the kind of sophisticated authority that made the surrounding luxury seem almost modest by comparison.
"Hey... make sure it's spotless," Dom commented coldly, glancing down at the trembling monarch who knelt beside his chair like a trained animal.
"Yes, sir! Immediately, sir!" the king stammered, his voice cracking with barely contained terror as he frantically polished Dom's boots with an ornate silk handkerchief.
The degrading spectacle sent visible shivers through the palace staff who had witnessed their sovereign's complete capitulation to these notorious criminals. This was their king—a man who had commanded armies and negotiated with world powers—reduced to performing the most menial tasks for the entertainment of pirates whose reputation for casual violence preceded them wherever they traveled.
The monarch had spent considerable wealth to hire the Hell Pirates for assistance with his kingdom's civil unrest, and their intervention had indeed restored order within days. But now came the complicated matter of managing these dangerous benefactors until circumstances allowed them to depart. As the old saying warned: it was easier to invite demons than to dismiss them.
For someone whose power commanded such respect throughout the North Blue, humbling himself through shoe-polishing represented a small price for survival. The alternative—testing their patience or displaying even minor disrespect—might result in his kingdom joining the growing list of territories that had simply vanished from navigational charts after crossing the Hell Pirates.
Those in positions of ultimate authority often harbored the deepest capacity for absolute submission when facing forces beyond their control.
"King," Dom's voice carried casual satisfaction as he gestured toward the newspaper lying beside his plate, "that bastard has arrived."
"Indeed," Oboro replied with understated acknowledgment, taking another measured sip of his wine.
"Are we going to fight him?" Dom asked, though his tone suggested he already suspected the answer.
"No," Oboro stated with clinical finality. "One encounter, and you'll die."
The blunt assessment hung in the air like a death sentence.
"Is the gap really that enormous?" Dom pressed, his enhanced pride struggling against the cold reality of power scaling that governed their world.
Yurivich also paused in his methodical eating, his attention drawn to a conversation that directly concerned his own capabilities and survival prospects.
"Whether we're discussing the Seven Warlords of the Sea or the Four Emperors, these individuals achieved their legendary status through comprehensive, overwhelming superiority in every aspect of combat," Oboro explained with the detached tone of a professor delivering a lecture on theoretical mathematics. "This includes their Devil Fruit abilities, which have been developed to their absolute limits through decades of constant refinement. Doflamingo's Ito Ito no Mi is particularly dangerous among Paramecia-type fruits—unique even within that classification. Most importantly, he has achieved Awakening."
He paused to swirl the blood-red wine in his crystal goblet, studying its color with apparent fascination. "There exists a fundamental, qualitative difference between awakened and unawakened Devil Fruit users. The gap transcends simple power scaling into something approaching a different category of existence entirely. Yurivich might manage to survive a few exchanges through raw durability, but prolonged combat would be impossible."
"Not even Yurivich?" Dom's voice carried genuine disbelief.
"The opponents you've encountered thus far haven't represented genuine strength," Oboro continued with brutal honesty. "Yurivich's physical capabilities are indeed exceptional, but he requires additional development before challenging apex predators. Consider this: with Doflamingo's mastery of Observation and Armament Haki, you wouldn't even perceive his approach, much less react to it. His String-String Fruit can effortlessly slice you into multiple pieces—along with any obstacles in the vicinity. A few casual gestures could reduce entire skyscrapers to rubble."
His tone grew more contemplative as he continued the tactical analysis. "Even without employing Haki techniques, the disparity in raw physical conditioning remains enormous. You must understand that Doflamingo has been a legendary figure terrorizing these seas for longer than you've been alive. When facing such overwhelming experience and proven capability, respect for superior power becomes a survival necessity."
Dom released a nervous chuckle, recognizing the subtle mockery underlying his captain's educational discourse.
"What about compared to you, King?" he ventured.
"Compared to me?" Oboro raised an eyebrow with apparent amusement. "His Haki and physical conditioning are undoubtedly superior—there's no question about that fundamental assessment."
Dom waited expectantly for the continuation he knew was coming.
"However..." Oboro's smile carried predatory satisfaction, "my abilities remain unknown to him, and the unknown often proves more terrifying than any amount of raw power. Moreover, the methods I employ to manipulate energy operate according to principles he's never encountered. In other words, his extensive combat experience provides no applicable guidance for countering techniques that exist outside his frame of reference."
He paused deliberately before delivering his final assessment. "I won't claim certain victory without an actual confrontation to verify my theories... but I'm confident I won't lose."
Dom's expression brightened with understanding and renewed confidence. He had learned to read his captain's psychological patterns with considerable accuracy during their time together. The fact that they could enjoy this leisurely meal while discussing Doflamingo's approach with such analytical detachment meant the situation was under control. Behind Oboro's characteristic humility lay the kind of absolute certainty that had carried them through every impossible challenge they'd faced.
"What's our strategy?" Dom asked.
"First contact and evaluation," Oboro replied with anticipatory satisfaction. "I find myself genuinely curious about this meeting."
Several hours later, after completing their meal and formal departure courtesies, the three Hell Pirates slipped away from the palace under cover of darkness. Behind them, the king maintained his subservient farewell, bowing repeatedly as he escorted his dangerous guests to the main entrance.
The royal robes that symbolized his authority over millions of subjects bore numerous footprints from Dom's casual disrespect—visible reminders of how thoroughly conventional power structures meant nothing when facing individuals who operated beyond traditional limitations.
The Hell Pirates had once again emerged to assist an island nation with its internal security challenges.
As the most closely watched criminal organization currently operating in the North Blue, their every movement attracted attention from intelligence networks, rival pirates, government agents, and ambitious bounty hunters seeking to claim their substantial rewards. Maintaining operational secrecy had become virtually impossible given their explosive rise to regional prominence.
Therefore, when news of their latest contract reached the broader maritime community, it traveled with the speed that only the most sensational developments could achieve.
The Donquixote Family received confirmation of the Hell Pirates' location through their extensive surveillance networks, immediately redirecting their pursuit toward the reported coordinates. Speed was essential—these notorious fugitives had already demonstrated an unsettling talent for vanishing whenever organized opposition approached their vicinity.
However, when Doflamingo's forces reached the designated area and conducted thorough sweeps of the surrounding waters, they discovered only empty ocean stretching to the horizon. Their quarry had once again evaporated like morning mist, leaving behind no trace of their passage or destination.
By evening, tabloid publications were already reporting Hell Pirates activity in an entirely different maritime zone, hundreds of miles from where they should have been located.
"They move quickly," Doflamingo observed with grudging amusement, scanning the latest intelligence reports while his flagship maintained pursuit course.
The chase resumed with renewed determination.
Although the North Blue's vast expanse provided numerous hiding places for fugitive organizations, the Hell Pirates faced critical logistical limitations that would ultimately prove decisive. Their vessel configuration was inadequate for sustained high-speed operations, suggesting they lacked the kind of specialized flagship that serious pirate organizations required for extended campaigns. Moreover, their apparent reliance on appropriated ships rather than custom construction indicated mobility constraints that the Flamingo's superior engineering could exploit.
The Donquixote Family's advantage lay not just in their flagship's speed, but in their comprehensive intelligence infrastructure throughout the region. Decades of careful network development had positioned informants, sympathizers, and corrupted officials throughout every significant port, trading post, and maritime facility. This web of cooperation would prove invaluable for tracking targets who might evade conventional pursuit methods.
The Hell Pirates couldn't escape indefinitely—they simply lacked the resources and territorial knowledge that extended evasion required.
Over the following weeks, the entire North Blue's attention focused on the deadly game of pursuit unfolding across their waters.
The dynamic appeared deceptively simple on the surface: the Donquixote Family's overwhelming forces systematically hunting the Hell Pirates through coordinated fleet movements, while their targets employed hit-and-run tactics to avoid direct confrontation with superior numbers.
Because the Hell Pirates showed no apparent interest in engaging Doflamingo's organization directly, preferring to maintain distance through careful positioning and rapid movement, outside observers began characterizing their behavior as strategic retreat rather than tactical maneuvering.
Eventually, when the Donquixote Family mobilized additional resources to form a massive encirclement operation designed to eliminate all possible escape routes, the prolonged chase finally reached its climax.
After nearly two weeks of intensive coordination between multiple fleets, reconnaissance aircraft, and intelligence assets, scouts reported the Hell Pirates' distinctive vessel anchored near the shore of a remote, uninhabited island less than thirty kilometers from Doflamingo's current position.
Upon receiving this intelligence, the Heavenly Demon's characteristic grin widened with predatory satisfaction. Without hesitation, he abandoned his flagship and launched himself skyward using his String-String Fruit's aerial transportation capabilities.
Sora no Michi—the Sky Path technique that allowed him to attach strings to clouds for rapid movement through the air. His individual travel speed far exceeded what any conventional vessel could achieve, making personal pursuit the most efficient method for ensuring their targets couldn't escape before his main force arrived.
After enduring weeks of systematic humiliation as these upstart rookies evaded his carefully orchestrated manhunt, Doflamingo's patience had been thoroughly exhausted. The time for elaborate strategies and coordinated operations had passed—now came the moment for direct, personal violence that would restore his reputation throughout the North Blue.
He intended to make their deaths both educational and entertaining.
"Fufufufufu..."
Within fifteen minutes of his aerial departure, Doflamingo's enhanced vision detected a dark speck anchored along the shoreline of an isolated island in the azure waters below. His feathered cloak fluttered dramatically in the wind as he adjusted his descent trajectory, strings connecting to cloud formations with supernatural precision.
"Fufufufufu!" His laughter grew colder and more menacing as anticipation built toward its inevitable release.
The pink feather cloak streaming behind him resembled enormous wings as he "flew" toward his target like a predatory bird diving toward helpless prey.
Finally... caught!
The hunt was about to reach its bloody conclusion, and Doflamingo intended to savor every moment of the retribution that would follow. The Hell Pirates had exhausted their luck, depleted their options, and run out of places to hide.
Now they would learn exactly why challenging the Heavenly Demon's authority had been the last mistake they would ever make.