After flooring the bald thug, Doflamingo didn't stop. With two thunderous kicks, he drove his heel into the two punks who were winding up to attack.
"Boom! Boom!"
Two impacts, and the punks slammed into doorways and walls, life or death unknown.
Doflamingo tossed the knife away with a look of disdain. He didn't care for blades; any tool that killed smoothly was fine, and knives were obviously too much trouble.
He clapped once, eyes on the last remaining little punk, whose face was twisted with shock.
"Congratulations, scum. Go report to your boss. I'll be right here waiting. If he doesn't show in two hours, this town has no reason to exist."
Terrified by how quickly Doflamingo had dropped three people, the punk didn't dare linger. He scrambled away on all fours, fleeing toward a certain hideout.
In Yaz Town—the Wild Wolf Gang's den in Totoria Kingdom, a non-World-Government-affiliated nation—a hulking, three-meter brute with a feral wolf tattooed across his bare back had the panting punk by the collar. Killing intent poured off him.
"What arrogance. One brat scared you this bad? And Label's crew—useless. Beaten by some kid. As his comrade, you chose to run. I get that you fear death. But… go die anyway."
A wet crack. The thug's neck twisted. His arms fell limp.
The gang boss—Lesteru—tossed the body aside and barked orders.
"Boys, with me! Let's pay this cocky brat a visit. I wanna see who thinks they can make trouble on my turf."
Time slipped by. The appointed hour arrived.
Doflamingo flexed his fingers until his knuckles popped. "For trash that can't keep time… looks like you have no reason to exist either."
"Fufufufufu… My people—slaughter time!"
He sprang forward in a single bound, panther-swift, and scythed a kick into a house a few meters away.
The blow caved in the wall. The house collapsed in a roar.
Screams burst from within—one after another.
As if savoring the "music," Doflamingo didn't pause. He moved to the next building, flicking hand grenades as he went.
Trebol and the others didn't sit idle. They joined the culling.
Cruel? Perhaps.
For Doflamingo, it wasn't only that the Wild Wolf Gang had broken the appointment. Though the memories were hazy, Yaz Town had housed many of the masterminds who'd bullied his family two years ago.
He'd considered leaving them alive as free labor for building a criminal network. Now he saw death would be more useful.
"Sir, sir, spare me!"
"No—no! I don't want to die, plea—"
"Devils! You're all devils—"
"Damn pirates—"
The chorus of misery swelled. In moments, the town was swallowed by fire.
Just then, Lesteru finally reached the "meeting spot," rage boiling. This town was his cash cow—watching it burn was watching someone torch his shares.
That, he could not forgive.
"Brat! You die!"
He didn't just think it—he acted. He surged at the gold-haired kid in shades—the one who looked like the leader—and threw a vicious punch.
Vergo reacted a step faster, flashing in front of Doflamingo and taking the blow with his body.
Trebol, Diamante, and Pica moved simultaneously, forming a ring around Lesteru. In the Donquixote Family, there was no such thing as "dishonorable" ganging-up.
As for the cronies Lesteru brought? In classic pirate-world fashion, they mostly stood around and watched.
"Hanamizu Hakujin-dori (Mucus White-Blade Catch)!"
"Ken: Chōken (Sword: Long Blade)!"
As the Family's two strongest at present, Trebol and Diamante attacked without a shred of mercy.
Lesteru hadn't expected their speed. Before he could react, their strikes crossed him front and back, carving bloody lines.
"Kh—!"
He staggered, coughed up dark blood, then roared and shifted—swelling into a three-meter dire-wolf form.
"A Zoan user, huh." Seeing the wolf, Doflamingo judged instantly and barked the order, cold and clear.
"Everyone, all in. Don't hold back. Kill him."
At his word, all five struck in unison—kicks, punches, slashes, sticky barrages, titanic stone hammers.
Even beast-boosted, Lesteru couldn't keep up.
Zoans healed fast, sure—but under the Family's relentless pressure, he was forced into a ragged defense.
Dang— Doflamingo's fist, sheathed in Busoshoku Kōka (Armament Hardening), punched clean through the wolf-form belly.
Lesteru shrieked and crumpled.
The finisher came from Pica—the "executioner's" fist, stone-colossus huge, crashed down and pounded Lesteru into paste.
With Yaz Town dealt with, the group headed back toward the garbage-dump outskirts where they'd once "squatted."
Near the dump outside Yaz, Doflamingo found Rosinante—months since they'd last seen one another.
There were no tearful sibling reunions. Staring at his big brother, Rosinante trembled, eyes wide with dread.
Afraid? Oh, yes.
When your brother personally murders your father—whatever the reason—that trauma roots deep.
Doflamingo swaggered forward, voice cold and needling.
"Fufufufufu… my foolish otōto. Are you that afraid of me? You're my only family left in this world. Follow me. I'll be the one to shelter you."
"Do—…"
Gaunt from hunger and malnutrition, Rosinante's face twisted with refusal.
Seeing that unwillingness—yet the fear to voice it—veins bulged at Doflamingo's temple. A stupid little brother still needed proper discipline.
"Hmph. Pica, knock him out. Then, Trebol—you will put Rosinante on the right track."
"Yes." Viewing Doflamingo as his king, Pica didn't hesitate. A hand-edge strike dropped Rosinante cold. Pica hoisted him onto his shoulder and stood by.
With Rosinante found, Doflamingo turned to the next phase.
"All right. We split in two as planned. I'll take Pica and Vergo to Rusukaina for two years of training. In two years, Diamante—come to Rusukaina, and use your ability to get us to Sky Island (Skypiea). While we train, Trebol and Diamante, you two will recruit new family—orphans or capable types—and seep into the North Blue underworld until it's all Donquixote assets."
"Sky Island? Beh-heh-heh-heh. I say, I say, Doffy—that island doesn't exist. You really buy those fairy tales?" Trebol edged closer, dubious.
Doflamingo eyed the snotty face with loathing. He didn't even lift a hand for fear of touching him. Still, he explained—barely—for a family member.
"Heh. 'Doesn't exist'? That's what weaklings mutter. Sky Island is real. And up there is something I must have."
Diamante tugged Trebol back before he could ask more and bowed his head.
"Since you say so, we believe. Trebol and I will follow orders."
"Good. Then… target—the Calm Belt!"
(End of Chapter)
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