As Lao G's voice fell, his evasive movements suddenly froze.
Puchi—!
In the next instant, Diamante's blade pierced straight through Lao G's chest.
The searing pain shattered the calm vacancy in his eyes, twisting them into shock and fury.
Bang!
Clapping his palms together, Lao G snapped the sword from his chest, then flipped backward several times with surprising agility, putting distance between himself and Diamante. He dropped into a defensive stance and roared:
"Diamante, what are you doing?!"
Diamante, "Diamond" of the top officers, frowned at Lao G's reaction and pressed, "Do you really not know what you just did?"
Feeling the nearly fatal wound in his chest, Lao G's voice was filled with anger and confusion.
"I don't know what you're talking about! You, Diamante—how dare you attack family right in front of the Young Master?!"
His words—furious, bewildered—only deepened the unease among the officers.
If Lao G was telling the truth… then this meant that even the body-hardened martial master of the family had been controlled without realizing it. And afterward, he had no memory at all of what had happened.
What did that imply?
That the mysterious Hueco Mundo Organization could take control of any one of them at any time—turning their blades against their own kin. Puppets on invisible strings.
Once, such power had been the Donquixote Family's pride—wielded only by Doflamingo himself with the String-String Fruit. Now, that same humiliation hung over them. Cold sweat broke across their backs, and unconsciously, officers shifted to keep distance from one another, each wary of betrayal.
As the cohesion of the family visibly frayed, suspicion poisoning every bond, Doflamingo finally spoke:
"This must be a Paramecia-type Devil Fruit. A power to manipulate humans. But no such ability comes without limits. There will be flaws—restrictions. Nothing to fear."
At that, Lao G slowly came back to himself, blinking in confusion.
"Was I… controlled just now?"
"Exactly," Señor Pink confirmed. "You spoke in the name of Hueco Mundo, dodged Diamante's blade again and again—you acted nothing like yourself."
"No way… I have no memory at all." Lao G shook his head, pale. "All I remember is a moment of dizziness—and then Diamante's sword was in my chest."
"It's true," Doflamingo said evenly. "Think carefully, Lao G. Did you feel anything unusual during the entire process?"
Lao G furrowed his odd brows, straining to recall, but finally shook his head. "Nothing, Young Master."
"That's impossible," Trebol sniffled, his tone dark. "No Devil Fruit is flawless—there must be traces. Could it be… that Lao G really is Hueco Mundo's spy? Or worse—he's still under their control, covering it up?"
The words struck like a spark in dry tinder. The tension that Doflamingo had just managed to steady snapped taut once again.
No one could be certain now if the "family" beside them was truly themselves—or an enemy's puppet.
Even Doflamingo felt the suspicion gnawing at him. But some things couldn't be voiced outright. His fury burned at Trebol's foolishness, but outwardly he only chuckled, calm as ever.
"Don't panic. If Hueco Mundo really had the power to casually control the entire Donquixote Family, they wouldn't need all this theater. They wouldn't need to threaten us for fruits or culprits. They would have ended us already."
He spread his arms with a grin.
"No, their ability must have steep costs—severe limits. They staged this spectacle for one purpose: to destroy the trust between us."
---
Meanwhile, inside Little Gold's inner chamber, Yahn listened to Doflamingo's deductions, a thoughtful frown on his face.
He's right. If Brujería could quietly control the whole family, everything would already be over. Corazon wouldn't need to risk his life as a spy at all.
"Robin," Yahn asked, "can you confirm this? Based on what Doflamingo said?"
Robin's face was calm, but her hands tightened faintly on the book she held. Since the disastrous failure at Flevance—the White City—she had been systematically testing the limits of the Brujería.
Her conclusions were clear.
"Yes. The ability has an upper limit."
It wasn't limited by the number of eyes she could create, but by something deeper—her mental and spiritual endurance. The stronger the targets, the greater the strain. The more she controlled, the heavier the toll.
"I'm sorry, brother Yahn," Robin said softly. "Judging by the burden of controlling even just Lao G… there's no way I can handle the entire Donquixote Family."
Her voice was steady, but her pale knuckles betrayed her frustration.
Yahn reached over, ruffling her hair, his tone that of a seasoned elder soothing a junior.
"Don't worry about it. You're still young. The future—that's your real stage. Right now, it's too early to push yourself that far."