The moment White Flame spoke, Baby 5's expression fell apart.
Her lips trembled, her eyes turned glossy.
Since Doflamingo's death, she had stayed here under the excuse of "recovering from her wounds."
White Flame had tried to send her away many times.
But every time he remembered her—
tied to that wooden post for three days straight, bloodied, humiliated, tortured—
he found himself unable to do it.
So she stayed.
Day after day.
A whole month had passed.
"Don't try to play pitiful with me," White Flame said coldly.
"It doesn't work. You're leaving today—no discussion."
"No!"
She pouted stubbornly, her tone like a child refusing to be scolded.
"Where you go, I go. I'm not leaving you, no matter what!"
"You think I'll go soft just because you're a woman?"
His eyes narrowed.
"You've seen what I'm capable of. Mercy isn't in my nature."
"Stay another day, and I'll kill you myself."
The air trembled.
An invisible pressure rippled through the room—Conqueror's Haki flaring like a silent storm.
But Baby 5 didn't even flinch.
As a former officer of the Donquixote Family, she had faced Doflamingo's own Haki for years.
Compared to that, White Flame's warning was nothing.
She lifted her chin, eyes bright with tears but full of resolve.
"Then kill me."
"If it means I can stay by your side—even for a little while—I don't care if I die."
"I've made up my mind, White Flame. You're the one I've chosen. Forever."
White Flame stared at her.
Then sighed.
"…You're insane."
There were always three kinds of people in the world, he thought.
Those who were fierce, those who were fearless… and those who were utterly mad.
And a mad woman?
Even monsters avoided them.
"As long as I can stay with you," she said softly, "you can scold me, hit me—whatever you want. I'll still be here."
She smiled through her tears.
"Now come eat, I made something special."
Before he could protest, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the table.
Steam rose from a table full of dishes—each perfectly prepared.
White Flame had to admit it.
Baby 5 wasn't just beautiful.
Her cooking could rival any royal chef in the world.
And she made something different every single day.
"This foolish woman…"
He rubbed his temple, half exasperated, half helpless.
He knew this peace wouldn't last long.
The World Government had already noticed Dressrosa's new "monster."
They would come for him sooner or later.
White Flame didn't fear them—
not the Marines, not the Admirals, not even the Five Elders.
But he didn't want to waste eternity fighting meaningless battles.
Not when his true revenge still waited in the New World.
Elsewhere — The Abandoned Factory
"Master White Flame! What do you think of my new battle armor?"
The bright, eager voice belonged to Rebecca,
the young princess of Dressrosa.
She stood proudly in front of him,
wearing a golden gladiator's outfit straight out of the Corrida Colosseum—
a small shield, a gleaming helmet, and almost nothing else.
It was… more revealing than protective.
White Flame looked up briefly from the stack of intelligence reports in his hand.
"When I said I'd train you," he said flatly,
"I didn't mean you had to wear that. A martial arts uniform would do just fine."
When he'd agreed to teach her swordsmanship, it wasn't out of kindness.
Kyros and King Riku had begged him relentlessly,
and Rebecca's admiration since he killed Doflamingo had become almost worship.
White Flame—who had absorbed the knowledge of countless warriors from the New World—
could master any form of combat: swordplay, marksmanship, martial arts, even artillery.
Training one young woman was effortless.
"Understood, Master!" Rebecca said brightly.
"Tomorrow, I'll wear a martial arts outfit instead!"
"Tomorrow?"
White Flame closed the report and stood.
"I'm afraid there won't be a tomorrow."
Rebecca blinked.
"W-What do you mean?"
Her voice cracked.
"You're not… abandoning me, are you?"
"Please, Master! I promise I'll work harder—every day! I'll train until I collapse! Just don't leave me!"
Her eyes welled up, tears shimmering in the light.
Her lips quivered, her shoulders trembling like a child afraid of losing her only guardian.
White Flame's tone softened—but only slightly.
"You misunderstand."
"I have something important to do. I'm leaving Dressrosa."
He paused, meeting her eyes.
"Your father, Kyros, will continue your training. He's a great warrior.
Under his guidance, you'll become strong enough to protect this kingdom."
He shut the report folder, tucking it under his arm.
A month and a half had passed since Doflamingo's death.
In that time, White Flame had prepared everything for his voyage—
a ship strong enough to weather the New World's storms,
and enough supplies to last months.
He wasn't a man who needed food or rest to survive…
but eternity was long, and hunger was still unpleasant.
Now, everything was ready.
Rebecca's tears finally broke free.
"Master… please, don't go! I—I don't want you to leave!"
Her voice echoed through the factory,
filled with a sadness so raw it almost made the air tremble.
White Flame turned, his eyes unreadable.
"Your tears don't work on me."
"Every meeting must end eventually. Take care of yourself, Rebecca."
He stepped away—
and as he did, pale bandages unfurled from his body,
wrapping him like a cocoon until he became a tall, black-shrouded IBM phantom.
With a faint ripple in the air,
the figure vanished—
leaving Rebecca alone amid the ruins,
her sobs mingling with the wind.
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