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Three days passed in the blink of an eye, and news that Wapol would be arriving at Vilia Port had already spread throughout the city a day earlier.
The citizens of the Drum Kingdom were, without question, deeply resentful of this arrogant and lawless prince. Yet despite their hatred, they could do nothing to change the fact that, once the old king passed away, Wapol — the kingdom's only prince — would inevitably inherit the throne.
Although many were satisfied with their current lives, they couldn't help but worry about the future.
As befitting a royal, Wapol's entourage was grand and excessive. A large number of guards from the royal capital quickly took up positions along the streets he would pass, clearing away all pedestrians and cleaning the roads spotless. Everything had to be perfect — to prevent both possible ambushes and, more importantly, Wapol's infamous tantrums over trivial inconveniences.
At the city gate, Gilbert, the lord of Vilia Port and Wapol's uncle, was already waiting. Dressed in an extravagantly ornate outfit, he sat astride a rare and equally lavishly adorned Fur Hippo mount.
Soon, the sound of elegant music echoed from a distance — signaling the arrival of Wapol's procession. Leading at the front was none other than Prince Wapol himself.
Compared to Gilbert, Wapol's attire was even more ostentatious — a shimmering white-and-gold ensemble crowned with a gem-encrusted diadem. He too rode a regal Fur Hippo.
Flanking him were Dalton, Chess, and Kuromarimo, faithfully serving as his guards.
When uncle and nephew met, both greeted each other with polite smiles and formal gestures. Yet, anyone observant enough to notice the forceful pats — bordering on punches — they exchanged during their embrace would instantly realize that their relationship was far from friendly.
And who could blame them? Wapol's disgraceful conduct within the kingdom had long eroded his popularity among the people, leaving him with virtually no public support.
By contrast, Gilbert had earned immense prestige. His successful governance of Vilia Port, his strategic alliance between the royal government and local underworld factions, and his victories against pirate coalitions had all made him a national hero.
In fact, his popularity might well have surpassed even that of the reigning king himself.
It was no surprise, then, that many had begun quietly suggesting that, when the old king passed away, Gilbert should ascend the throne instead.
Most people desired a wise ruler who would bring prosperity — not a tyrant who cared only for himself.
Given that, it was impossible for Wapol to truly like his uncle. Likewise, Gilbert could hardly stand his arrogant nephew. Their current civility was merely a mask — one that would shatter the moment either lost patience.
"Ah, my dear nephew!" Gilbert said with a forced smile, teeth clenched. "You must be tired from your journey. Come — I've prepared a grand feast in your honor at the castle, along with the company of many beautiful ladies. We've been waiting only for our guest of honor — you!"
It was clear that Gilbert, older and less physically vigorous, had lost their earlier unspoken "contest of strength."
Wapol, however, wasn't here for food or women. He had only one goal today — to see the Devil Fruit rumored to be in Vilia. Banquets were boring; he'd attended more than enough of those. Still riding the high of victory from their subtle clash, his arrogance surged even higher. Laughing loudly, he said,
"Ha ha ha! Uncle, banquets can happen anytime, but that treasure — that's one of a kind! Let's go see it now! Ever since I heard the news, I've barely been able to wait!"
Gilbert's smile froze. His face darkened as a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes.
He swore to himself — he had never intended for Wapol to get his hands on that Devil Fruit. He didn't even know which fool had leaked the information from the Donquixote Auction House, but that act of stupidity had drawn this loathsome nephew straight to him — to steal the prize from under his nose.
Indeed, Gilbert had his sights firmly set on the two Devil Fruits in Donquixote's possession.
Though Donquixote Doflamingo had repeatedly refused to sell them, Gilbert knew that as long as they remained within the auction house, there would always be a way to acquire them — it was merely a matter of timing.
Now, however, Wapol's sudden interference threw everything into chaos.
No one knew Wapol's personality better than Gilbert did — arrogant, self-centered, and reckless. Whatever caught his eye, he would claim without hesitation, regardless of the consequences.
When he said he merely wanted to "look" at the Devil Fruit, it was as good as declaring he planned to take it.
Even when confronted by his uncle's cold demeanor and piercing gaze, Wapol remained utterly unfazed. He met Gilbert's stare head-on while nonchalantly picking his nose, wearing an infuriating smirk — the very picture of smug insolence.
Wapol's rule might one day prove disastrous, but he was no fool. Born into royalty, he was well-versed in palace intrigue. He was rotten, not stupid.
He knew exactly what his royal status meant in the Drum Kingdom — and just as well what Gilbert desired.
That knowledge gave him confidence: his uncle wouldn't dare lay a hand on him.
Gilbert took a deep breath, forcing his temper down. For the sake of his ultimate goal, he had to endure. With a booming laugh, he replied,
"Hahaha! You really haven't changed a bit since you were a boy — still so impatient! Very well, very well! Let this good uncle of yours take you to witness something truly extraordinary. It's a rare sight indeed!"
Seeing Gilbert laugh again, Wapol followed suit, bursting into laughter himself — and for a brief, false moment, the scene appeared almost harmonious, as though uncle and nephew were genuinely close.
Once their interests aligned, the two moved quickly. The Donquixote Auction House, their true destination, was soon surrounded by soldiers. The fortress's defensive control shifted rapidly into new hands.
"Damn it, Lao G — are we really letting these fools take over the auction house's security?"
From within the fortress, Pica, visibly irritated, growled as he watched the city's guards surround the building and begin assuming defensive positions.
For Pica, who possessed the powers of the Stone-Stone Fruit, the entire fortress was an extension of his body. The presence of so many unwanted intruders made him feel as though his very flesh was being violated.
Unlike the furious Pica, Lao G remained composed, sipping his tea with indifference.
"Relax, Pica. Those soldiers are nothing but ants — hardly worth your anger. Our job is simply to guard the Devil Fruits. Everything else is irrelevant. Don't forget what Young Master Doflamingo said yesterday — no unnecessary trouble. His plan must not be disrupted."
At the mention of Doflamingo, Pica finally backed down. His loyalty to the young master outweighed his pride. He abandoned the idea of using his powers to drive the guards out and instead fixed his gaze on the ornate chest resting on the table before Lao G.
As Lao G had said — Doflamingo's plan could not fail. Pica had to keep the Devil Fruits safe, no matter what.
The chest lay open. Inside were two bizarre-looking fruits, each covered in mysterious swirling patterns —
one a purple fruit resembling a monstrous Venus flytrap,
the other a crimson fruit seemingly split cleanly down the middle.
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