Morning arrived, the sun rising with its usual steadfastness, diligently performing its duty of bathing the land in light.
Baby 5 awoke in the large bed, looking around the unfamiliar surroundings with a touch of bewilderment. Then, as if remembering something crucial, she sat bolt upright, quickly tidied herself, and hurried off to find her Young Master and fulfill her duties as his maid.
However, when Baby 5 reached Doflamingo's room, it was already empty. Doflamingo, naturally, was not one to laze in bed; there were far too many matters awaiting his attention. Baby 5 felt a pang of disappointment but soon located him elsewhere within the Family compound.
"Baby 5, what's wrong?" Doflamingo asked, noticing the slightly downcast expression on her small face.
"Young Master," Baby 5 complained with a tiny pout, "how could you get up without waiting for me to serve you?"
"Fuffuffuffuffu," Doflamingo chuckled. "Baby 5, I made you my maid, it's true, but not for you to busy yourself with these trivial, everyday tasks. The Family doesn't support idlers, you know."
"Then... what should I do?" Baby 5 asked hesitantly.
"Strength," Doflamingo stated simply, his voice calm.
"Strength?" Baby 5 repeated, confused.
"That's right," Doflamingo affirmed, his tone becoming more serious. "If you truly want to be helpful to me, then you must focus on improving your strength. Work hard, Baby 5!"
"I will!" Baby 5 nodded, her eyes filled with a naive determination. "I'll definitely become someone you need!"
"Good," Doflamingo said, pleased by her compliant attitude. He reached out and gently patted her head, as if smoothing down ruffled feathers. "In that case, go find Diamante. Tell him to assist you with your training."
"I understand, Young Master," Baby 5 replied respectfully.
"Have some breakfast before you go," Doflamingo added kindly, noticing her eagerness to rush off immediately.
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Baby 5 to gaze after his retreating figure with a heart full of emotion.
In the Family's main meeting hall, Doflamingo and Trebol were listening to reports from their subordinates.
"Young Master," one of the men reported respectfully, "during this period, following your orders, we have been secretly monitoring numerous Devil Fruits. Any that have appeared on the market have been secured by the Family. They should be in your hands very soon."
"Oh?" Doflamingo remarked, his expression unreadable. "Well done. What fruits are they?"
"According to our intelligence, we have collected four Paramecia-type fruits and one Logia-type. The Paramecias are the Hobby-Hobby Fruit, the Swim-Swim Fruit, the Arms-Arms Fruit, and the Spin-Spin Fruit. The Logia is the Snow-Snow Fruit," the subordinate quickly relayed all the information he possessed.
"Oh, so it's these five fruits, is it?" Doflamingo mused, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. All fruits wielded by my original Family members from that other timeline, he thought. It seems fate truly does favor the Donquixote Family!
"Yes, Young Master," the subordinate confirmed, his head bowed respectfully.
"I understand. You've all worked hard," Doflamingo said, offering a word of commendation.
"Not at all, Young Master! Serving the Family is my honor!" The subordinate hadn't expected such personal acknowledgement from the Young Master for what he considered his duty. His heart swelled with gratitude and renewed loyalty.
It's often the seemingly insignificant details, the small gestures of recognition, that best cultivate loyalty and inspire people to willingly lay down their lives for you, Doflamingo knew. His simple words of praise had clearly made a significant impact on the subordinate.
Having delivered his report, the subordinate quickly excused himself, anxious not to intrude on any important matters Doflamingo might have.
After a moment of silence, Doflamingo turned to Trebol, who had been sitting quietly beside him. "Trebol, that other matter... how is it progressing?"
Trebol, who had been patiently listening as Doflamingo handled affairs, was slightly surprised the focus had shifted to him. "Doffy, rest assured!" he said, his sticky voice oozing confidence. "I began making preparations secretly even before you left the Family base last time." He offered a firm guarantee.
"Good," Doflamingo said, his interest piqued. "The time is right, then. Let's go take a look together."
The 'other matter' Doflamingo referred to was a project initiated over a year ago. He had secretly instructed Trebol to begin gathering orphans. There was a specific criterion: no older children. Their minds, Doflamingo reasoned, would already be too developed, their personalities too formed, making them difficult to 'correct' and mold. He had no intention of nurturing ungrateful traitors within his Family.
Trebol had established a clandestine base on an uninhabited island in the North Blue, under Donquixote control. It was here that the collected orphans were placed for their 'secret training.' Of course, 'training' was a generous term. In reality, it was a brutal trial of survival of the fittest. Only those who managed to stay alive on this isolated, dangerous island would earn the right to officially join the Family. Doflamingo did not believe in unconditional handouts; to receive anything, these children first had to prove their inherent value to their masters.
Naturally, Rosinante knew nothing of this undertaking. Doflamingo would never allow his soft-hearted brother to interfere with such 'good deeds.' He had specifically instructed Trebol and the others involved to keep Rosinante completely in the dark, lest his 'savior complex' flare up and he attempt to 'rescue' the children, thereby ruining the entire selection process.
Soon, Doflamingo and Trebol arrived at the island base. It was a remote, isolated landmass. While resources were plentiful, the island was also teeming with dangerous wild beasts. Doflamingo was keen to assess the courage and innate talent of these orphans. Anyone who survived this crucible, he had decreed, would be eligible to join the Family. In this, at least, Doflamingo was impartial.
Descending from the sky with Trebol, Doflamingo immediately swept the entire island with his Observation Haki. He detected fewer than twenty survivors.
"Trebol," Doflamingo asked, "how many children did you place here in total?"
"Over the past year," Trebol mused, calculating, "through various small batches, the total number should be around two hundred."
"Is that so?" Doflamingo remarked, a note of approval in his voice. "Then those who are still alive must possess some genuine skill."
"Behehehe!" Trebol chuckled his distinctive laugh but offered no further comment. He found nothing strange or objectionable about Doflamingo's ruthless method of selecting the strongest among the orphans; in fact, he wholeheartedly approved of his Young Master's pragmatic approach.
"Go and instruct your men to bring the surviving orphans here," Doflamingo ordered.
Trebol, without a word of complaint, immediately set off to find the subordinates stationed on the island. (A contingent of men had been left to guard the island, preventing outsiders from stumbling upon it and interfering with the 'trial'.)
Before long, a group of children – ragged, their hair long and matted, faces smudged with dirt making their features almost indistinguishable, bodies gaunt and emaciated – were brought before Doflamingo.
"Reporting, Young Master! All the surviving children are here," the lead subordinate announced respectfully. Doflamingo waved a hand dismissively, indicating he understood.
Twenty pairs of eyes, filled with a mixture of hardened resilience and wary curiosity, stared at the imposing figure before them.
"Congratulations," Doflamingo began, his voice resonating with authority. "You have successfully survived this trial. As a reward, you will now have the honor of joining my Family, of becoming one of us. You will never have to worry about going hungry again. You will have clean clothes to wear, and comfortable, warm beds to sleep in."
Whispers rippled through the small group of children. "Enough food to eat?" "Beautiful clothes to wear?" "Can this... can this really be true?"
They could scarcely believe his words. A year ago, they had been snatched up by shadowy figures in black and unceremoniously dumped on this island, left to fend for themselves. Do you have any idea what we've been through this past year? they thought collectively. Though the island provided sustenance, it was also overrun with vicious beasts who saw these tender children as easy prey. The days and nights had been a relentless cycle of hunting, hiding, and fleeing. Many had perished, falling victim to the island's predators or succumbing to starvation and despair. Only the cleverest, the toughest, the most ruthless, had managed to cling to life. They had tried, of course, to seek help from the men in black who occasionally appeared at the island's periphery, but their pleas had fallen on deaf ears. They were utterly alone, forced to rely on their own meager strength and cunning to survive.
"Of course, it's true!" Doflamingo declared, his voice ringing with conviction. "You have earned every bit of it! You survived where others perished. You are the victors, and as victors, you are entitled to enjoy the spoils of your triumph!"
A wave of elation washed over the children. "That's wonderful!" "We're finally free! Free from this hell!" "I... I survived!"
Joy, pure and unadulterated, lit up their grimy faces. If there was a chance to live, who wouldn't choose life? Some children were so overcome with emotion that they collapsed to their knees, crying tears of relief and cheering hoarsely. Others turned to embrace the companions beside them – over the long, brutal year, they had learned the necessity of banding together, for one person's strength was limited; only through cooperation could they hope to win.
Doflamingo, Trebol, and the other subordinates watched the children's emotional outburst in silence, allowing them this moment to release their pent-up fear and tension, to let their frayed nerves finally unwind.
"Sir," a somewhat chubby boy finally spoke up, his voice hesitant but clear, "can we... can we really join you?"
"Hey! What kind of talk is that, brat?" one of the nearby subordinates snapped, indignant that any of these children would dare question their Young Master. "How dare you doubt the Young Master's word? What the Young Master says is absolute law in the Donquixote Family!" He glared menacingly at the boy.
"What's your name?" Doflamingo interrupted, waving the subordinate down, his gaze fixed curiously on the boy who had dared to speak.
"Me? My name is Buffalo," the boy replied, a tremor of nervousness in his voice.
"Buffalo?" Doflamingo repeated thoughtfully.
"Yes! Buffalo!" the boy confirmed quickly, worried Doflamingo hadn't caught it.
"I see," Doflamingo acknowledged. He then addressed all the children once more, his voice carrying the smooth, persuasive cadence of indoctrination. "By becoming a member of my Family, your basic needs will always be met – ample food, clean and beautiful clothes, warm beds to sleep in – all of this will be yours. As long as you remain loyal to the Family, anything you desire, I will provide. Of course," he added, his tone shifting subtly, "to gain anything of value, a certain price must always be paid!"
"What price do we have to pay?" "Yes, what do we have to do?" The children looked at Doflamingo expectantly, waiting for an answer.
"Loyalty, of course!" Trebol interjected, having received a subtle signal from Doflamingo, voicing the words his Young Master intended. "And complete dedication to the Family!"
"If you desire a higher position within this Family," Doflamingo continued, spreading his arms wide in an inviting, almost paternal gesture, "then you must strive to become stronger! As long as you possess the strength, I, Donquixote Doflamingo, will grant you whatever you seek!"
He paused, letting his words sink in, then concluded with a chilling finality, "There is no such thing as a free lunch in this world. If you want to obtain anything, anything at all, you must be prepared to seize it with your own two hands!"