The pirate ship cut through the icy waters of the North Blue, its bow sending up a spray that refracted the sunlight into a thousand tiny glints. On deck, the atmosphere was a world away from the oppressive tension of Doflamingo's castle.
"Is that it, Kyle?" Moriah broke the silence, his massive body leaning against the ship's rail. His signature "Kishishishishi" laugh was tinged with dissatisfaction. "How boring. We didn't even get a proper fight. That rock man, Pica, and that floaty swordsman… If I'd killed them, I'm sure I could have gotten two high-quality shadow soldiers out of them."
He licked his lips, his crimson tongue a stark contrast to his pale face, clearly regretting the missed opportunity to expand his army.
Mihawk stood nearby with his arms crossed, his hawk-like eyes reflecting the cold glint of a blade. "A man like that is not the type to follow orders," he stated, his voice flat and objective. It was a fair and accurate assessment. Someone like Donquixote Doflamingo, whose veins flowed with pure malice and arrogance, would never truly bow down after a single defeat. A man with the disposition of a king would not remain subservient for long.
As he thought this, Mihawk's posture shifted slightly. He recalled Kyle's seemingly casual hand chop. It was an attack with nothing but flesh and blood, yet it had carved a path sharper than any legendary sword. Does a swordsman truly need a sword? The question lingered in his mind.
"Of course not," a lazy voice answered them.
Kyle was sprawled on a deck chair, wearing sunglasses and sipping a glass of iced juice, having completely reverted to his vacation-like state. "How could a flamingo born in hell ever truly surrender?" He took another sip of juice, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Right now, he's a mad dog whose fangs I've temporarily broken. I've put a collar on him, but that's all. A biting dog doesn't bark. The quieter he is, the more viciously he's plotting."
Moriah bared his teeth. "Then why did you let him go?"
"Who said I let him go?" Kyle took off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of golden eyes that sparkled with amusement. "I don't need a loyal dog. I need a vicious one that will bite for me. As for loyalty… for a man like him, that's far less reliable than a sturdy leash."
His goal in the North Blue was never to subdue Doflamingo. It was to seize control of the Donquixote Family's vast underground empire—their global arms trade, their intelligence networks, their smuggling channels—and make it all his own. Doflamingo was now merely the public-facing "manager" of these industries, a puppet whose life Kyle held in his hands, motivated by the twisted hope of revenge.
"Alright, stop sulking, Moriah." Kyle put his sunglasses back on and waved a hand at him. "It's time for our 'little birds' to go out and sing."
Moriah let out a strange, guttural laugh at his words. He stood up straight, and his massive shadow writhed and stretched across the deck like a living thing. He slowly closed his eyes, concentrating.
Swoosh—
Clusters of pure darkness peeled away from his shadow, rapidly condensing in mid-air into palm-sized, jet-black crows. These birds had no physical form; they were composed entirely of shadow, their eyes two points of eerie blue light that darted about with uncanny speed. This was a new technique Moriah had developed after awakening his powers: by killing weak creatures, he could strip away the shadows containing fragments of their souls and sculpt them into intelligent creatures he could control from afar. These shadow birds were Kyle's new mobile surveillance network.
The shadow crows circled once in the air, let out a silent, psychic shriek, and then dissolved into black smoke, shooting off into the distance.
Kyle sat with his legs crossed, explaining his plan casually. "Morgans's stupid News Coos are all over the sea, right? Have your shadow birds quietly 'parasitize' the shadows of those birds. That way, they can hide their movements and get us news from around the world the moment it happens. What do you think?"
Moriah's eyes lit up, and his "Kishishishi" laugh grew even louder.
…
A few days later, the news spread like wildfire, crossing the Grand Line and the Four Seas in an instant. The front page of the World Economic Journal, in the largest, most eye-catching font imaginable, published a world-shaking story.
[SHOCKING! HEAVENLY YAKSHA AND WAVE GUIDING KING CLASH IN NORTH BLUE! DONQUIXOTE FAMILY DEFEATED, SPIDER MILES CHANGES HANDS!]
Beneath the headline was a photograph, taken from a dramatic angle, that occupied half the page. The background was the ruins of the massive, bisected castle. In the foreground, the figures of Kyle, Mihawk, and Moriah were clearly visible. In the corner of the frame, several executives could be seen supporting a bloodied and disheveled Doflamingo, appearing to flee in a panic.
The article itself was even more sensational, portraying the one-sided confrontation as an earth-shattering battle. Doflamingo was depicted as a ruthless, daring hero who had the courage to draw his sword against a living legend like the "Wave Guiding King." Although he was ultimately defeated and forced to abandon his family's long-held territory, the article framed the mere fact that he had escaped as an unparalleled honor.
For a time, the entire world was in an uproar.
"That Heavenly Yaksha actually dared to fight the Wave Guiding King? He must be insane!"
"It's more than that! The paper says he actually survived! That's incredible!"
"I heard from my uncle's daughter-in-law's neighbor that the Wave Guiding King is a monster who can walk in and out of Marineford seven times without getting caught!"
"So, this Doflamingo guy must be way stronger than we thought!"
As the storm of public opinion reached its peak, the World Government and the Marines reacted quickly. Not long after, an even more explosive piece of news swept the globe.
[WORLD GOVERNMENT EXTENDS AN OLIVE BRANCH! "HEAVENLY YAKSHA" DONQUIXOTE DOFLAMINGO INVITED TO BECOME ONE OF THE SEVEN WARLORDS OF THE SEA!]
This news cemented Doflamingo's status as a top-tier pirate. To be officially recognized by the World Government and become a legitimate privateer was the ultimate proof of his strength. The name "Heavenly Yaksha," far from being tarnished by his defeat, was now more famous than ever.
In the Holy Land of Mariejois, inside the Room of Authority, the Five Elders reviewed the reports, their expressions varied.
"Is it not too hasty to make the Donquixote boy a Warlord?"
"These are extraordinary times. The seas are already chaotic enough, thanks to Roger and now Kyle. We need a force to counterbalance the other pirates."
"Doflamingo's identity is… special. But for that very reason, he understands the importance of 'rules' better than most. Furthermore, we have leverage over him."
"Most importantly, he is someone who 'survived' an encounter with Aaron Kyle. That feat alone is enough to grant him prestige among the lawless pirates. We need such a sharp blade to use against other blades."
Finally, the elder in charge of finances gave the final word. "It is decided. Have the CP agents contact him. A tamed vicious dog is always easier to control than a wolf roaming free in the wild."
They had no idea that the "vicious dog" they believed they were taming already had a chain from the abyss fastened tightly around its neck.
…
On the Sabaody Archipelago, Kyle put down the newspaper, a satisfied smile on his face. Everything was proceeding exactly as he had planned. He casually tossed the paper onto the table and picked up the fresh black tea his maids had prepared for him.
He took a slow sip. So, the devil bird has returned from hell, he thought. Now, let the flames of vengeance burn.
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