A few days later.
Yamato piloted the Buffalo-brand helicopter, soaring over Flevance.
(T/N: Buffalo ate the Guru Guru no Mi, a Paramecia-type Devil Fruit that allows him to make any part of his body spin around like a propeller.)
Corpses piled up in alleyways, left uncremated.
Yamato's eyes showed a hint of sorrow.
Buffalo sighed. "Sigh, has Flevance really fallen to this state? It wasn't always like this, was it?"
"Flevance used to be wealthy, making a fortune off the Amber Lead mines. It was one of the richest nations in the North Blue."
"Then how did it end up like this?"
Buffalo's rotating arms almost stiffened as he turned to look at her, speechless.
"Yamato, did you even read the report Young Master prepared?"
"Hahaha, I did! There were just too many words!"
"Because Amber Lead is poisonous. They all got sick. And when the World Government and the royal family no longer needed them, they were left with only one path—death."
"Huh? The World Government is awful!" Yamato fumed, stomping on Buffalo's feet twice. "Let's save them!"
Buffalo shuddered, nearly losing control and sending them into a nosedive.
"Lord Doflamingo is already doing something about it. Yamato, if you keep this up, I'm throwing you out!"
"Hahaha, sorry, my bad! But seriously, Doffy is such a good guy."
"Focus on the mission, Yamato."
Buffalo adjusted their flight path toward the designated coordinates.
...
Trafalgar Clinic
Bone slowly opened his eyes.
Beside him, Law grasped his hand in delight. "Dad! You're awake!"
"Law..."
Bone reached out, patting Law's head as memories before his unconsciousness resurfaced.
Glancing around the familiar room, he asked, "How did we escape?"
"It was all thanks to Uncle Rosinante."
Law closed his eyes, cherishing the warmth of his father's presence.
"He rescued us from that wretched palace."
Only then did Bone notice Rosinante standing nearby and expressed his gratitude.
"Ah! Thank you, Rosinante. If not for your noble status—"
"No need to thank me. This was all my brother's doing."
Contrary to what one might expect, Rosinante wasn't pleased. His face was clouded with worry.
"Your brother?"
Despite knowing Rosinante for years, Bone had never heard him mention family before.
Rosinante's gaze drifted into the distance, his voice carrying a sense of unease.
"Yes, my brother—Donquixote Doflamingo."
"He bought this country. And he's going to take something from it."
Bone was puzzled. "Doflamingo? Rosinante, what do you mean by 'bought'?"
"My brother made a deal with the World Government. This country has already been sold. Right now, he owns it."
Country, bought, owned?
Bone fell deep in thought.
Boom!
A sudden explosion from the palace shattered the conversation.
Rosinante, watching the flames rise, murmured, "He's here."
Buzzzzz.
Outside the clinic window, Yamato hovered in the helicopter.
"Rosinante, Doffy wants you to come."
...
Moments Earlier, Inside the Palace
King Moccus VI of Flevance stood in the grand hall, surrounded by identical figures that filled the space.
His body trembled unnaturally.
He looked up at the throne.
A massive pink feathered coat seemed to stretch endlessly, blotting out the sky.
The man's towering frame made the once-grand throne seem small.
Moccus's wretched father was now nothing more than a withered husk, planted in a pot like a tree.
Beside him stood a horned demon and a terrorist from Germa 66, taking turns stabbing the former king.
Wiping away the blood splattered on his face, Moccus forced down his fear, putting on a fawning smile.
"Saint Doflamingo, may I ask what lands our royal family will be rewarded this time?"
"No rush. Helping the World Government secure such profits deserves a reward, but let's wait until all members of Flevance's royal family are gathered. Then, I'll grant you your prize."
"Huh? We have to share it with others?"
Moccus blurted out his true thoughts before quickly trying to backtrack.
"Saint Doflamingo, I am the rightful King of Flevance! I alone can represent our royal family!"
Doflamingo casually glanced at Caesar and Judge, observing their progress, before giving Moccus an amused smile.
"Fufufufu, don't worry. This blessing is for everyone."
Moccus's heart went cold. Something felt terribly wrong.
Before he could process it, hurried footsteps echoed through the hall.
Mellus rushed in, ignoring his own boss, and threw himself to the ground to report.
"Saint Doflamingo! All royal guards have been gathered. The border defenses have been fully handed over to the Germa army. Awaiting further orders!"
Sizzle—Crack!
A sound from the corner caught the attention of Mellus and Moccus.
Turning their gaze, they saw that the long-dying King Moccus V had finally turned into a tree.
"BOSS! Specimen 15001 failed! Caesar, your thoughts?"
"Shurorororo! This brainless fool was injected with Genefactor 11006, yet he only turned into a tree instead of outright rejecting the mutation and exploding. I'd call that a major success."
Unfazed by the failure, Caesar looked quite satisfied.
"BOSS, shall we continue?"
"Of course."
With a slight movement of Doflamingo's fingers, Moccus and Mellus found themselves forcibly bound in a turtle-like posture.
"Fufufufufu, we still have plenty of material, don't we?"
Realization struck the two like a lightning bolt. They screamed in terror.
"Saint Doflamingo, no—!"
"You can't do this to me! Our royal family has served the World Government! I demand an audience with the Five Elders! I want to see them—mmmph!"
"Caesar, Judge, take them away."
"Yes, BOSS."
BOOM!
A pre-planted mucus bomb detonated within the palace.
Click!
Caesar leaned in, peering at the photo in Doflamingo's hands, then smirked. "Shurorororo! BOSS, your photography skills are godlike! Look at this—the light, the composition—it captures the beauty of destruction perfectly."
"Fufufufufu, Caesar, you're getting better at flattery."
Doflamingo patted Caesar's shoulder, grinning as he faxed the image.
...
"Gulp."
On the other side, Morgans examined the photo.
"Doflamingo, what is this? What country?"
"Flevance, North Blue. Wiped out by Germa 66. How's that for a headline?"
Judge, who was overseeing his clones, stiffened.
This kind of reputation... I'd rather not have it!
"Hmm... A minor front-page story, at best."
After back-to-back major scoops, Morgans had developed a high threshold for excitement.
Judge: Morgans, you son of a—!
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