What is the cruelest punishment the Navy Headquarters imposes on pirates?
Some would say hanging?
Some would say beheading?
Some might say being locked in Impel Down forever?
But if someone were to ask Donquixote Doflamingo, he would definitely say none of these are true.
The cruelest thing is the endless cycle between life and death.
One second, you are standing on the Grand Line, feeling the beauty of the world; the next second, you are at the gates of hell, staring into death's maw.
Just when you're mentally prepared to accept death, ready to be buried in hell, a hand drags you back to the Grand Line, only to throw you into the jaws of a beast.
Every chew grinds you closer to death.
Until, at last, you're spit out again—escaping hell, stumbling back to the sea.
But soon enough, that same hand of death reaches out again. You hear the wailing cracks of bones snapping, the tearing of organs, the grotesque chewing of your body. Until, half-dead, you're swallowed by the bloody maw once more. With consciousness flickering, you hear it all—the crunch of bones, the grind of flesh—while your body is chewed and re-chewed.
This cycle.
Donquixote Doflamingo went through it countless times.
He knew he wouldn't die, but it didn't matter.
The true horror of this cycle wasn't the dying—it was the terror and despair that grew each time, knowing you wouldn't die, yet powerless to stop the fear from flooding your heart.
His bones and organs shattered again and again, always on the verge of death.
He was chewed raw by Minazuki [The Manta Ray], spat out, and dragged back to repeat the torture.
Only those who have lived through it know how terrifying it truly is.
Not everyone is Kenpachi Zaraki, who could actually enjoy the cycle of fighting and dying.
And even if Zaraki were here, it would be useless.
Because what Doflamingo was enduring wasn't battle—it was a life-and-death cycle where his bones were broken like a chicken's and then healed, only to be broken again.
"Doffy."
Suddenly, Rosen's voice rang out from the warship.
"Lord Rosen."
Doflamingo, who now stood more stiffly than any naval guard, immediately hurried toward him.
Gone was his iconic swaggering step.
Though he still walked with a hint of elegance, his posture was nothing but respectful.
"What can I do for you?"
As he reached Rosen, Doflamingo dropped to his knees before him.
This scene.
Doll and Douglas Bullet on deck only watched calmly.
The surrounding navy didn't even blink.
Surprise? They had been surprised enough these past fifteen days.
Yes.
Half a month had passed since the Donquixote Pirates were annihilated, their captain captured alive and tamed like a hunting dog.
During that time, Bullet, Doll, and every marine aboard witnessed Rosen's process of breaking a king.
They saw Doflamingo go from roaring defiance, to trembling fury, to servile obedience.
Fifteen days.
That was all it took for the Heavenly Yaksha to transform from a king into a servant.
From a lawless demon into an obedient dog.
His kingly aura had long since vanished—ground to dust with every bone that Susanoo broke and healed again.
At least in front of Rosen, Donquixote Doflamingo no longer had the dignity of a king. He was nothing more than a submissive slave.
"Not bad. Finally looks decent."
Rosen looked down at the kneeling Yaksha with a satisfied smile.
A Tenyaksha who doesn't wag his tail and beg isn't a qualified Shichibukai.
Now, Doflamingo's performance finally fit Rosen's idea of what the Seven Warlords should be.
Legal looting?
No respect for the navy?
Putting his feet up on the table during Headquarters meetings?
Refusing compulsory summons?
That era was over.
The current Shichibukai had only one privilege: not being hunted.
The current Shichibukai didn't need to accept World Government summons—they just needed to obey, obey, and obey.
"..."
Doflamingo said nothing. He only lowered his head further, kneeling silently.
Even more crushed than Gecko Moria after Kaido defeated him.
"Want to be free?"
Rosen's sudden words made the deck go silent.
"The weak have no right to speak of freedom."
"If you grant it, I'll take it. If you don't, I don't even dare to dream of it."
"I only know one thing—whether free or not, I am your most loyal servant."
Doflamingo jerked his head up in shock. His eyes burned with desire for a moment—but just as quickly, he buried it, resuming his submissive facade.
"Yeah?"
Rosen chuckled faintly. Under Doflamingo's anxious, nervous, and expectant stare, he finally spoke:
"Since you want the title of Shichibukai so badly, it's yours now."
Even a dog needs a bone sometimes.
Let alone a Heavenly Yaksha.
After half a month of breaking and caging him, it was time to throw Doflamingo a bone.
The title of Shichibukai—that was the bone Rosen tossed his hunting dog.
Whether the Yaksha wagged his tail or not, Rosen didn't care.
As long as he obeyed.
What master ever wasted time pondering his guard dog's feelings?
"Shichibukai?"
At the words, Doflamingo froze, emotions surging wildly.
Once, he had risked everything—robbing Celestial Gold, negotiating with the Navy—for the title.
Just when he thought his plan was working, the Marine Headquarters' strongest sword descended on the North Sea.
His power, fame, wealth, and status—gone in an instant.
The King of the North Sea reduced to a plaything. The Heavenly Yaksha reduced to a dog.
Now.
After fifteen days of begging and breaking, he finally received his master's recognition. A bone, thrown into his hands.
Yes.
In Doflamingo's eyes, the title he once dreamed of wasn't glory anymore.
It was just a bone.
A bone tossed to him by Rosen.
And with that, even the thrill of becoming a Shichibukai vanished.