"Doffy, are we really going to be the navy's dogs for the rest of our lives, at his beck and call? You are the man who will become the Pirate King. How can I accept a navy man riding on my head, even if he becomes an Admiral in the future?"
Diamanti's face twisted with unwillingness.
Once, Donquixote Doflamingo had been the king of the North Sea. As the supreme ruler of the Donquixote Family, he sat as one of the three highest powers in the region. They had lived lawlessly, untouchable, arrogant.
But now?
Though only Doflamingo wore the visible collar, every cadre of the Donquixote Family felt the same invisible restraint choking them. They had all become the laughingstock of the North Sea.
"Until I gain the power to challenge Rosen, we have no choice but to obey,
" Doflamingo said coldly. "Just like the pirates and civilians we once forced into submission. His rules are now the rules of the Donquixote Family. Obey—or perish. That is the truth."
His commands followed, cruel but calculated:
"From this day, the Family will completely abandon the drug trade. Arms and slave trading may continue, but methods will change. Weapons cannot be sold to Navy-wanted criminals. Priority goes to member nations of the World Government, then non-member states who are not wanted."
"As for slaves—no more commoners, whether human or other races. We will hunt only pirates. The seas are overflowing with them. Capturing them may be harder and costlier, but there will never be a shortage of slaves. That's final."
With that, Doflamingo spread his arms like wings and flew back toward his personal quarters.
Inside his office, fury boiled over. He slammed his fist through his desk, splintering it into fragments, before collapsing into his chair.
If Diamanti as a mere cadre felt suffocated, then what of Doflamingo, once a king?
Reaching up, he grasped the collar at his neck, testing it. The moment his fingers touched, pain shot through him like lightning. He recoiled instantly, his face shifting from rage to fear, from resentment to awe.
In the end, he lowered his hand.
Not because he lacked courage. But because he lacked power.
Just as he had told his cadres—until he could stand against Rosen, he could only remain a watchdog.
"Rosen… you… it would be best if you stayed this strong forever."
His voice was low, his arms limp at his sides, the mutterings in his office heavy with unwilling submission.
Yes, he had lost. Yes, he bent his knee. But to truly accept defeat? Never. At least… not yet.
…
Shortly after Vice Admiral Rosen's warship departed the Donquixote base, sweeping changes began. From the king down to the lowest affiliates, the Family was overhauled.
The mighty organization that once ruled both the underworld and the North Sea's legitimate markets now began reforming—shifting trade, cutting ties, releasing slaves.
The effect was immediate.
As one of the most powerful forces in the North Sea, the Donquixote Family's every move was scrutinized. Nations and organizations watched closely as news poured out:
The Family completely withdrew from the drug trade, destroying all stock.
Their arms dealings continued, but limited only to governments and non-wanted clients.
Their slave market narrowed, releasing civilians and declaring that only pirate slaves would be sold in the future.
It wasn't full whitewashing. It was a forced transformation.
But before speculation could spiral, the latest issue of the World Economic News arrived. Across the North Sea, news birds dropped papers with a headline that froze readers in place:
"Donquixote Doflamingo Becomes One of the Seven Warlords of the Sea."
Beneath the headline was a photo—Doflamingo, collared, standing beneath Vice Admiral Rosen's shadow.
At that moment, everything became clear.
The semi-whitewashing of the Donquixote Family had a single cause, the Heavenly Yaksha, once absolute ruler of the North Sea, had been reduced to the watchdog of the Vice Admiral who ruled it now.
The North Sea erupted overnight. Even the Grand Line stirred with ripples.
For one of the Seven Warlords had been subdued, not through negotiation, but domination.
Did this mean that Rosen—and by extension, Navy Headquarters—intended to turn the Warlords from nominal "government hounds" into true hounds of the Navy?
A tidal undercurrent surged across the seas, reshaping the fragile balance of the three great powers.
And through it all, one name spread like wildfire for the first time.
Rosen.
The world began to remember.
Not because he had collared Doflamingo. Not because he had subdued the so-called "Devil's Heir."
But because the Navy had recognized his power as equal to an Admiral's—before he had even graduated from the academy.
Across the world, reactions split:
At Navy Headquarters, Sengoku and Zephyr were delighted, praising Rosen's boldness in shaking the seas so quickly.
In the North Sea, fear gripped Vinsmoke Judge.
…
Inside Germa 66's royal chamber, Judge sat at his desk, the latest paper and Rosen's dossier spread before him.
"They captured Doflamingo this quickly? No wonder Headquarters appointed a fresh graduate as the North Sea Vice Admiral, commander of all branches there. With one move, he turned the Heavenly Yaksha into the Navy's dog."
Judge's face was pale. Unlike Doflamingo, he had no infiltrators like Vergo, but he did hold ties to Cipher Pol and other agents of the World Government. He had known of Rosen's existence before the rest of the seas—but not the depth of his power.
That knowledge guided his choice.
Where Doflamingo had resisted and paid the price, Judge had already moved.
The night Rosen was officially appointed as theVice Admiral of the North Sea, the Germa Kingdom abandoned its seas, taking its kingdom ashore at all costs.