While Yamato was working hard to escape from Onigashima...
...
Sabaody Archipelago
Crouched low, Kuro carefully lifted the sewer lid beneath him and slipped inside without a sound.
From above came the thunder of boots—thud thud thud!
The gangsters, having found nothing worth taking, cursed in frustration.
"Damn it, that brat's like a damn cockroach!"
"We can't go any further, boss. That area ahead's Navy territory."
"Forget it. We're not leaving empty-handed—go find those two sailors he was drinking with. Grab their wives and kids. Sell 'em."
"..."
The footsteps faded, eventually disappearing altogether.
Covered in grime and barely clothed, Kuro clawed his way back up into the alley.
Yes.
Right now, he was nothing more than an orphan wandering Sabaody.
Jumping from island to island, building a false identity.
He had a mission. A special one.
It came straight from Lord Doflamingo.
No target name. No leads. No backup. No punishment if he failed.
All he was given... was time.
Two years.
...
And far away, the one who gave that mission—Doflamingo—had returned once again to the New World.
To Dressrosa.
Descending from the sky was the Numancia Flamingo 2.0, its flamingo-like silhouette gliding down with elegance.
Still a girl, Smoothie couldn't help but gasp as she watched it land.
"So beautiful...!"
But in the next instant, her gaze was drawn to the figure at the bow—a tall, striking man in pink.
Even the towering Smoothie, over three meters tall, found herself acting a little more like a girl.
She called out softly, voice full of admiration.
"Doflamingo-sama!"
Without realizing it, she moved to greet him.
"You've grown, Smoothie."
Doflamingo gently patted her head—her height now nearly reaching his chest—and ran a hand through her hair.
Then his eyes shifted to the two figures approaching from behind her.
"Pica. Urouge. You've done well holding Dressrosa in my absence."
"Of course, Doflamingo-sama / God-sama. It is our duty." x2
"As a reward... you'll both be stepping into a new realm of power."
He clapped them each on the shoulder and turned toward the King's Plateau.
Plans for their growth were already taking shape in his mind.
Pica and Urouge exchanged glances—there was fire in their eyes.
Doflamingo never made hollow promises.
They didn't expect to jump straight to the level of Vergo... but this would be a major leap forward.
...
King's Plateau, inside a secluded prison beneath the palace
Cricket was a wreck.
His mind, once sharp, was fraying.
His body—thin, bloodied, almost skeletal.
The cuts on his limbs had stopped bleeding. The bruises had faded.
He no longer wasted his energy digging at the walls.
Now, he simply paced. Around and around the small cell. Mechanically. Like a wind-up toy with no destination.
Then, without warning—
The overhead lights, which had been on for who knows how long, flickered and went out.
Instead, natural light poured in from a newly opened slit above.
Cricket blinked, confused, disoriented.
And then—
Laughter. High-pitched. Familiar. Nightmarish.
"Fufufufufufu... Cricket. You're looking surprisingly sane."
Cricket's head snapped up.
He shrank back into the corner like a panicked beast, rasping through a dry throat—
"Doflamingo!!!"
"Fufufufufu... What's wrong? Didn't you want to see me?"
The walls surrounding Cricket began to retract, brick by brick.
And Doflamingo began to descend, step by step.
Light poured in behind him, casting a long, ominous shadow over Cricket's trembling body.
Step. Step. Step.
Each footfall echoed like a heartbeat—loud, heavy, suffocating.
Cricket could hardly breathe.
He pressed himself against the farthest wall, desperate to gain even a shred of control, and finally stammered out:
"Doflamingo... what are you trying to do?"
"Nonono~"
Doflamingo wagged his finger playfully.
He stepped closer.
Watching the way Cricket's body shook, his smile widened, turning sinister.
Then, with a voice soft as silk, he asked:
"It's not about what I want to do."
"No, Cricket..."
"What is it you want?"
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