"Doffy, look at us. We're already this strong now. Shouldn't we finally confront the Marines?"
Trebol spoke up suddenly.
He leaned forward, his sticky, mucus-covered body shifting on his seat. He looked at Doflamingo with eager eyes.
"Think about it," Trebol urged, his voice nasally and loud. "We've been fighting tooth and nail against every underground force in the North Blue and what did the Marines do? They only provided minimal assistance! Yet, they take forty percent of our profits every month!"
Trebol slammed his hand on the table.
"It's not fair, Doffy! Anyway, we now have the qualifications and the strength. Even without the protection of the Marines, we can survive. We can directly cooperate with the World Government agents using your... connections."
Trebol wasn't stupid.
He knew exactly how noble the blood flowing through Doflamingo's veins was.
He knew Doflamingo was a former Celestial Dragon.
The reason Trebol, Diamante, and Pica acknowledged a kid as their leader was precisely to make use of this secret identity.
They wanted to ride his coattails to the top of the world.
However, after spending so much time together, Trebol and the others had genuinely been moved by Doflamingo's charisma and ambition.
They sincerely wanted to help him establish a powerful Mafia family that would rule the seas.
Doflamingo sat at the head of the table.
His face still wore a brilliant, toothy smile, but his eyes beneath his red sunglasses turned icy cold.
"Trebol," Doflamingo said, his voice smooth but dangerous. "The Marines are our friendly partners. How can we just cast them aside like trash?"
Doflamingo tilted his head back and downed the red wine in one gulp.
He exhaled the scent of alcohol as he slammed the glass back onto the table.
"Listen to me, Family," Doflamingo said, his tone dropping an octave.
"No matter what happens in the future, as long as our Donquixote Family remains in the North Blue, we must honor our agreement with the Marines."
Doflamingo grabbed the bottle and poured large mouthfuls of red wine down his throat, trying to numb his nerves.
Every time he thought about that agreement, he thought about him.
'Just wait, Raleigh,' Doflamingo thought, gripping the bottle tight enough to crack the glass.
'I won't stay in this small pond of the North Blue forever. But neither will you.'
Doflamingo saw their current situation clearly.
He was not a fool blinded by pride.
His encounters with Raleigh had taught him many painful lessons.
Actually, he had no choice but to endure.
After being thoroughly beaten by Raleigh months ago, Doflamingo had wanted revenge desperately.
He wanted to kill the Marine. But after studying Raleigh for a long time, Doflamingo discovered a terrifying truth:
Raleigh had no obvious weaknesses.
Or rather, what others might consider weaknesses weren't actually weaknesses for Raleigh.
'Take Haki, for example,' Doflamingo mused. 'Raleigh cannot use Conqueror's Haki. He doesn't have the aura of a King like I do. But does it matter? No. He can still knock me unconscious with a single punch.'
Doflamingo wiped wine from his lips.
He realized that raw power sometimes trumped destiny!
'Once we leave the North Blue for the Grand Line," Doflamingo vowed silently, "we'll see who comes out on top. The game is still long.'
He looked at his loyal executives, who were waiting for his command.
"Living in the same waters as such a monster really gets my blood boiling! Fufufu!"
Doflamingo laughed maniacally. He raised his glass high into the air.
"To the future! Drink!"
The executives cheered, intensifying the atmosphere of the banquet, unaware of the deep fear their Young Master buried deep inside.
....
"Achoo! Achoo!"
The silence of the ocean was broken by two loud sneezes.
The weather in the North Blue was particularly pleasant today.
The sun was bright but not harsh, and a gentle breeze carried the salty sea air across the deck. It was the kind of day sailors dreamed of.
Raleigh stood on the deck, rubbing his nose vigorously.
"Strange," Raleigh muttered, sniffing. "I shouldn't catch a cold in theory. My body is stronger than steel."
He frowned suspiciously. "Two sneezes in a row... could it be that some bastard is cursing me behind my back?"
Whenever something inconvenient happened to him, Raleigh would immediately attribute the cause to others.
And one specific name always surfaced in his mind.
Borsalino.
"That bastard Borsalino," Raleigh grumbled. "Is he going to screw me over again? Is he trying to dump his paperwork on me from the Grand Line?"
At this thought, Raleigh felt a wave of paranoia.
He quickly reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a small Den Den Mushi. This was the specific snail used for contacting his brother, Borsalino.
Raleigh stared at the sleeping snail intently, as if it were a bomb.
"I need to find a way to block its signal," Raleigh whispered to himself.
He looked at the ocean, then back at the snail.
"Should I throw it into the sea? No, he'd just send another one."
Hearing Raleigh's terrifying ideas, the sleeping Den Den Mushi suddenly shivered.
It desperately tried to retract into its shell, wanting to escape from this dangerous man.
After a long while, realizing that the snail wasn't ringing and Borsalino hadn't called yet, Raleigh sighed.
He stuffed the terrified snail back into his clothes.
"You live for another day," he muttered.
The warship sailed on across the magnificent sea.
The calm surface was continuously rippled by the vessel's passage, creating a white wake that stretched for miles.
Today marked the thirtieth day of Raleigh's patrol mission.
It had to be said, the chaos of the One piece world had opened Raleigh's eyes.
Even after mobilizing all the Marines and the Mafia under his command to suppress crime, new pirates still popped up like weeds.
Every few days, a ship flying a shoddy, hand-painted pirate flag would appear on the horizon.
Most of them were pathetic.
They were small wooden fishing boats that couldn't even handle the recoil of a cannon. The crews were often just local thugs with rusty swords.
For such pirates, Raleigh had no patience to play capture games. He didn't bother with arrests or trials.
"Target at 2 o'clock," Raleigh ordered lazily. "Fire."
BOOM!
Upon sighting them, the Marine warship would unleash a barrage.
The wooden boats would be reduced to splinters in seconds.
Raleigh's policy was simple and brutal.
The Marines had repeatedly issued orders: Prohibit sailing under a pirate flag.
Anyone sailing under that black flag, using the pirate name—regardless of whether they had committed any crimes yet—must die.
The flag itself was the crime.
Raleigh's ship carried a cargo that was far heavier than cannonballs.
Below deck, there were stacks of heavy stone tablets.
Each tablet was engraved with Raleigh's personal message to the pirates of the North Blue:
"If any North Blue native goes to sea as a pirate, I will surely behead them."
After destroying a ship, Raleigh's crew would fish out the corpses.
No matter how unrecognizable the bodies were, Raleigh and his intelligence team would identify them.
Then, they would send the bodies back to their hometowns, accompanied by one of the stone tablets.
Raleigh believed in the power of fear.
He believed that even the most brutal young men would feel a chill in their bones when they saw their former friends returned as corpses.
He wanted the stone tablets to stand in every village square as a warning.
"Raleigh-sama," a soldier reported, saluting. "We've destroyed another pirate ship. Their leader has been identified as a resident of the island ahead."
"Good," Raleigh said, his voice flat. "Identify all his companions' identities as well. Pack them up."
"Yes, sir. We will follow the established procedures."
Raleigh didn't say much more.
Right now, he just wanted to get some proper sleep.
"Raleigh-sama," another voice spoke up.
It was Reginald, the lanky captain.
He looked hesitant.
"What should we do with these orphans we've taken in?"
Reginald glanced at a corner of the deck.
There, a group of about twenty children were gathered. They were performing simple physical exercises under the supervision of a sergeant.
They varied in height, age, and skin color. Some were dirty; some were scarred. But the one thing they shared was the eyes.
There was no joy in their eyes. Only unmistakable hatred.
These were all orphans Raleigh had picked up during this patrol.
Their parents had been killed by pirates.
Their homes had been burned.
Most of them had been forced to beg on the streets until Raleigh found them. Such orphans were tragically common throughout the North Blue.
Raleigh looked at the children.
"Divide them," Raleigh ordered Reginald.
"A significant portion of these orphans—the ones who just want a home—will be dispatched to the Marine branch bases in the North Blue. Each branch can easily support a few kids. They will be fed, clothed, and trained as regular soldiers."
Raleigh looked at a specific boy in the group.
The boy was doing pushups with a look of pure ferocity on his face.
"But the others," Raleigh said, pointing to the intense ones. "Those with exceptional talent... or remarkable willpower driven by hate... they go to a different place."
"Send them to the Dawn Organization in the Eryoku Kingdom."