Chapter 376

Dressrosa, New World

"Fufufufufu...! So, Elder Saturn, what's it going to be? Will you bend... or will you break?"

Doflamingo's sneer cut through the air like a blade, his words steeped in venom and menace. His iconic grin was plastered across his face, but the usual air of mockery carried a darker, more volatile edge. This was not the playful sadism the world had come to expect from him—this was wrath, tempered and sharpened into a deadly weapon.

Anger simmered beneath his calm exterior. The World Government had dared to target his family—his fledglings. Children, no less. If not for Shyarly's warning, their scheme might have succeeded, a thought that only added fuel to his fury. With his younger brother Rosinante absent, the stakes had been unbearably high.

The cost of failure? Unthinkable. And now, he couldn't allow this affront to go unpunished. No, the world would feel his wrath. The World Government would pay in blood and power.

And what better way to make them suffer than by stripping away one of their most prized assets?

"Donquixote, you are treading dangerous waters," Elder Saturn's voice finally broke the suffocating silence. It carried a tone of feigned calm, though the weight of authority behind it was unmistakable. Despite the chaos swirling around him, Saturn's countenance remained composed—a mask honed through centuries of rule. Yet beneath that facade, his mind worked furiously.

Losing the agent Doflamingo demanded would be a catastrophic blow.

Space-manipulating Devil Fruits were beyond rare, so rare that some believed them superior to even Logia powers depending on their application. And this agent wasn't just a wielder of such an ability; he was loyal, groomed from a young age to be a weapon of the World Government.

Saturn couldn't afford to lose him—not to a pirate's tantrum.

Still, the Elder's cunning mind churned. Perhaps... there was another way.

Without a flicker of hesitation, Saturn made a subtle gesture to the CP0 leader. The leader, ever perceptive, caught the signal and relayed it discreetly to the agent in question.

The agent, calm as a still pond in the eye of a storm, needed no further prompting. With his orders clear, he channeled the power of his fruit, ready to vanish from Dressrosa in a flash. Space began to distort around him, the very air shimmering with unnatural tension. But just as the portal began to form—

A storm of purple energy erupted like a raging tempest. The ground cracked beneath the force as gravity itself seemed to roar in protest.

Issho, the blind swordsman who stood behind Doflamingo, had acted. His fury was palpable, though his voice remained soft and measured. "You dared to target the children I've sworn to protect. You'll find no escape here."

Gravity slammed down on the agent with the weight of mountains, pinning him to the ground before his powers could fully activate. The distortion of space flickered and died, crushed under Issho's relentless gravity power, and for good measure, Issho unleashed his conqueror's haki to counter the devil fruit ability.

Pulse after pulse of Conqueror's Haki radiated from the swordsman. Precise and suffocating, it enveloped the agent like an unbreakable cage, leaving the other government operatives trembling but untouched. They reached for their weapons instinctively, but hesitation froze their movements.

Elder Saturn's sharp gaze fell on Issho. "Haoshoku... You're a Conqueror too?" He couldn't fully hide the astonishment in his voice, though he quickly masked it with a grim expression. He had seen what Conqueror's Haki could do—what it represented. As someone who had fought in the wars of the old era, he knew the devastation such power could unleash.

Doflamingo. Rosinante. And now Issho. How many more Conquerors lurked within the Donquixote Family?

The elder's grip on his staff tightened. His mind raced with possibilities. Perhaps summoning the other Gorosei would be necessary. Together, they could raze Dressrosa to the ground, just as they had countless islands in the past.

Yet his Observation Haki instinctively searched for Rosinante—Doflamingo's shadow. The absence of the younger Donquixote was troubling, though Saturn couldn't afford to dwell on it now.

"You gave your word, Donquixote!" The CP0 leader, desperate to salvage the situation, stepped forward with a sharp rebuke.

"This was supposed to be a peaceful negotiation. Attacking an envoy during diplomatic talks? Do you want Dressrosa to suffer the same fate as islands buried in the Four Blues? I suggest you think carefully before continuing this madness."

Doflamingo turned his gaze lazily toward the speaker, his grin widening. "Fufufufu... And who gave you permission to yap, mutt? This is between me and Saturn. Know your place." His voice was dripping with mockery, each word a slap in the face.

Then, as if to twist the knife further, he raised a finger and pointed at another CP0 agent standing among Saturn's security detail. "But since you've run your mouth, I'll be needing another head. Let's say... yours."

"Donquixote!" Saturn's voice boomed with unrestrained authority, and a wave of his own Conqueror's Haki exploded forth. The air grew thick and heavy, trembling under the sheer force of his will.

The clash was instantaneous. Doflamingo's own Haki surged to meet it, locking the two titans in a battle of dominance. The atmosphere grew electric as their wills collided, neither yielding an inch.

Saturn's intent was clear: to disrupt Issho's control long enough for the pinned agent to escape. But the instant he tried, Doflamingo countered with brutal precision, his Haki surging like a tidal wave to block the opening.

"Fufufufu... Now I want three heads, Saturn. Keep this up, and you'll run out of dogs before I run out of patience." Doflamingo's tone was light, but the predatory gleam in his eyes was anything but. His grin widened, daring Saturn to push further.

Above, on a balcony overlooking the chaos, a figure leaned casually against the railing. Silvers Rayleigh, the Dark King, observed the scene with an amused smirk. Though silent, his presence added an additional layer of tension to an already volatile situation.

Below, among the Marine contingent, stood the absolute titan of the current era—Monkey D. Garp. The legendary Marine's boisterous laughter broke the tension momentarily.

"Bwahahaha! So many Conquerors in one place. What's next? That pirate bastard showing up for the fun?" Garp jabbed a finger toward Rayleigh, his grin widening.

Saturn's gaze briefly flickered toward the balcony, his unease deepening. The presence of Rayleigh and Garp made this battlefield even more precarious. Though their allegiances were uncertain, their strength was undeniable. Any misstep could turn the tides irrevocably.

The stalemate between Saturn and Doflamingo persisted, their Haki crackling like thunder. The very seas themselves seemed to groan under the pressure, walls trembling as if the very fabric of reality was straining to contain their wills.

This was no longer a negotiation.

This was war, waged not with weapons but with the sheer force of will.

And at its center stood Doflamingo, his confidence unshaken, his grin unyielding, daring the world to challenge him.

"Fine...!" Elder Saturn's voice finally broke the tension that had wound itself tight like a coiled spring, poised to snap.

For a moment, it seemed as though the confrontation might escalate into all-out violence, but his decision to compromise diffused the immediate threat. Those attuned with keen Observation Haki in the Marine and World Government contingents felt a chilling realization: countless advanced weapons were locked onto them from strategic positions across Dressrosa. The infamous railguns—feared for their devastating Admiral-level firepower—were ready to fire at a moment's notice.

While many stood rigid with dread, one man stood unfazed. Monkey D. Garp, the legendary Marine hero, merely grinned. His thoughts were far from the present tension; instead, he wondered if Doflamingo might retrofit one of those weapons onto his ship. After all, his vessel was like his second home.

"Maybe I should ask Rosinante to gift me one," he mused aloud, scratching his head and laughing sheepishly. The other Marines looked at him, dumbfounded, as though he had completely missed the gravity of the situation.

"You can have their lives," Saturn said at last, his tone begrudging and low. "But you must return their corpses. They deserve a proper burial."

Doflamingo tilted his head, his iconic grin growing wider, though his eyes gleamed with predatory amusement.

"Fufufufu... Why so magnanimous, Elder Saturn? Is this generosity from the goodness of your heart? Or..." his voice dipped, colder and sharper, "is it because you intend to use their corpses to extract their Devil Fruits?"

Saturn froze, his expression unreadable, but the faintest flicker of shock betrayed him.

Doflamingo's laughter grew louder, more menacing. "Fufufufu...! That's it, isn't it? Don't bother denying it. I know all about the little secrets buried within Mariejois."

The revelation sent ripples of unease through the World Government faction. Only a select few in the highest echelons of power knew of the forbidden technique to harvest Devil Fruits from the dead—a closely guarded secret even among the Gorosei. How could Doflamingo possibly know such classified information?

For years, Saturn had harbored doubts about a traitor within their ranks. This only deepened his suspicion.

"Ahahahaha!" A sharp, mocking laugh broke through the tense silence. The sound came from Agana, a captive within the World Government's ranks. Her seastone shackles gleamed in the sunlight, a cruel reminder of her fate. She stood tall despite her restraints, defiance burning in her eyes.

"So, even you Gorosei have your moments of weakness," she sneered. "To see you bow to a pirate's demands... Ah, what a memory to treasure before my execution."

Her words dripped with mockery, raw and unfiltered, as if spitting on the very authority Saturn represented. To her, there was no reason to save face. Her fate was sealed; she had been discarded, deemed a liability.

Saturn's face darkened, his fury barely restrained. To be insulted in front of both allies and enemies alike was a wound to his pride.

Doflamingo's gaze, sharp and calculating, shifted toward Agana. She had nearly taken everything from him once—she had almost killed Rosinante, his beloved younger brother. The memories of that betrayal flared to life, fanning the embers of his grudge. If she had succeeded back then, the Donquixote family would have been nothing but a distant memory.

"Fufufufu... Lady Agana," Doflamingo began, his tone deceptively light. "So you're the one who once tried to rip out a piece of my little brother's heart... Quite literally, if I recall correctly."

With measured steps, he approached her, his presence suffocating, his boots cracking against the cobblestone path like thunderclaps. Agana, bound and helpless, met his gaze unflinchingly. Despite her predicament, she didn't falter. She refused to cower, even under the looming shadow of an Emperor of the Sea.

"So what if I did?" She shot back, her voice cold and steady. "Are you going to burn me to ashes now? With my hands bound in seastone, this is your only chance, Donquixote. Do it."

Her defiance was like a spark in a powder keg. The air grew tense as onlookers braced for the inevitable explosion.

Doflamingo's grin widened, but his eyes were unreadable. Rosinante's words echoed in his mind—a choice given to him by his younger brother. He could kill Agana here, end their grudge in blood, and gain satisfaction. Or, he could forge her into something far more useful: a blade that would serve the Donquixote family.

Agana's resolve faltered ever so slightly as Doflamingo turned away, his focus shifting to Senor Pink. With a casual gesture, he summoned the loyal officer forward.

"Fufufu... Senor, take the key," Doflamingo said, his voice smooth and commanding.

The CP0 leader hesitated, clutching the key that bound Agana's shackles. His instincts screamed against handing over such a powerful tool. Yet, when Elder Saturn gave a subtle nod, the leader reluctantly complied. With visible hesitation, he passed the small, intricately designed key to Senor.

A metallic click echoed through the courtyard as the seastone shackles fell away, clattering onto the cobblestones.

Agana stared in disbelief, her arms now free, her power no longer suppressed. Even Elder Saturn seemed momentarily stunned. Had the Donquixote Family lost their minds?

"You're releasing me?" Agana asked, her voice edged with suspicion. "Why? After everything, why would you do this? Is this part of some elaborate scheme?"

Doflamingo turned back to her, his grin unshaken. "Fufufufu... Lady Agana, Dressrosa is my domain. Here, my word is absolute. And we don't shackle our guests—not even ones with... colorful histories."

His words were layered, simultaneously mocking and sincere. He gave her a choice, veiled in the guise of hospitality. She could try to run, but she would only end up proving herself predictable. Or she could stay, play his game, and perhaps find a role within the family she once sought to destroy.

Senor Pink stepped forward, his tone surprisingly respectful. "As long as you're compliant, you're free to roam the island, Lady Agana. Let us know if there's anything you need." He tipped his hat politely before retreating.

Agana's disbelief gave way to anger, then confusion. She couldn't comprehend Doflamingo's motives, and the uncertainty unsettled her. "Why...?" she muttered, her voice softer now. "Why release me? After everything?"

But Doflamingo simply turned, his cape billowing dramatically behind him as he walked away.

"Senor, make sure everything here is to Lady Agana's liking," he said with a dismissive wave.

Agana watched him go back to where Saturn stood, her mind a storm of questions. Whatever Doflamingo's true intentions were, one thing was clear: she was now a piece in his game. And the Donquixote family always played for keeps.

*****

Skylark Island, New World

Crocodile emerged from the dark, oppressive basement, his imposing figure silhouetted against the flickering flames consuming Skylark Island. Blood seeped from multiple wounds across his body, staining his torn clothes, yet he moved with unyielding determination.

His search for the truth of the ancient weapons had led him into the depths of the underworld, but even in his most audacious dreams, he hadn't expected to encounter the Demon of Ohara here.

The scroll he had pried from the Whitebeard Pirates' treasure spoke of the poneglyphs as keys to the location of unimaginable power—the ancient weapons.

Recently with the fall of Wano at Kaido's hands , his ambition had been thwarted by the loss of the Kozuki clan, the only known bloodline capable of deciphering the enigmatic stones. Their knowledge, like their family, had vanished from history.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor. Crocodile's chance encounter with Lily, a survivor of Ohara, changed everything. She was a frail figure, teetering on the edge of despair, prey to the unending greed of men. Crocodile was no savior; under any other circumstance, he would have walked away without a second thought. Yet Lily held something more valuable than her life—knowledge.

If she truly was the last person alive capable of interpreting the poneglyphs, she was worth sparing.

Lily followed him hesitantly, draped in oversized, bloodstained clothes scavenged from one of the corpses Crocodile had left in his wake. Her trembling hands clutched the loose fabric, pulling it tighter as though to shield herself from the horrors surrounding her.

She had seen firsthand the ruthless strength of the man she now trailed. Even outnumbered by the thugs who ruled this underground den, Crocodile had carved through them like a force of nature.

She shivered. There was no doubt in her mind—he was a Devil Fruit user. A logia type, no less. He had to be.

And yet, despite the raw terror gnawing at her, she knew better than to run. Crocodile's promise still echoed in her ears: "If you try anything, your death will be cruel... and slow."

As they stepped onto the streets of Skylark Island, the world around them was chaos incarnate. Flames roared from every corner, casting long shadows that danced across the carnage. The once-thriving black market island was now a war zone.

Power was shifting violently, as rival factions fought for dominance. Guns roared, cannons thundered, and the screams of the dying filled the air like a symphony of destruction.

Lily struggled to keep up, her smaller frame jostled by the panic-stricken crowds surging in every direction. She dared a glance at Crocodile, his towering silhouette cutting through the chaos with unnerving calm.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

A dozen gunshots rang out in quick succession, the sound deafening amidst the chaos.

"The girl! Keep the girl alive! We can play with her after!" one of the attackers bellowed.

Lily froze as she felt her heart drop. The men aimed their weapons at Crocodile, who stood unwavering in their sights. The bullets tore through his body, leaving gaping holes in his torso, but instead of collapsing, he remained standing.

To Lily's horror, the holes began closing in on themselves, grains of sand swirling and knitting his body back together.

The thugs hesitated, their bravado crumbling as one of them stammered, "H-he's a Devil Fruit user... a logia type! Infuse your weapons with Haki!"

But Crocodile didn't wait. His arm swept through the air in a lazy arc, yet the effect was anything but gentle.

"Desert la Spada!"

Massive blades of sand erupted from the ground, each towering as high as the surrounding buildings. They tore through the attackers like scythes, slicing through flesh, bone, and stone alike. Screams filled the air, abruptly cut off as blood and entrails splattered across the cobblestones.

Lily stumbled back, her eyes wide with horror. The brutality of the scene left her shaking. She had known this man was dangerous, but witnessing his power firsthand was far worse than she had imagined.

Crocodile turned to her, his golden hook glinting in the firelight. His gaze was cold and penetrating, cutting through her like a blade.

"Do you remember the contents of the poneglyph in Ohara?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with menace.

Lily's breath hitched. She knew there was no room for deception here. This wasn't a question—it was a demand. And the wrong answer would mean her death.

"N-no," she stammered, her voice barely audible. "I never personally saw the poneglyph in Ohara. But..." She hesitated, swallowing hard. "I might know where it is. That is... if the World Government wasn't able to move it after the attack."

Crocodile's eyes narrowed. His gaze was a silent weight, assessing the truth in her words. Lily's heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, she thought he might kill her anyway. But then he spoke again.

"Fine," he said, his tone sharp and decisive. "We're going to Ohara. If the poneglyph is still there, you're going to help me find it."

Lily blinked, momentarily stunned. Before she could respond, he continued.

"From now on, you're my underling," he declared. "You'll follow my orders. Stay loyal, and I'll protect you—from the Government, from Marines, from anyone who would harm you. But betray me..."

He let the words hang in the air, unfinished yet heavy with implication.

Lily didn't need him to elaborate. She had seen what Crocodile was capable of. His power was absolute, and refusing him was tantamount to signing her own death warrant. Her hands balled into fists as she nodded, the weight of her predicament sinking in.

For now, she had no choice. Survival meant playing along, walking alongside this devil in human form. If she dared to step out of line, there would be no mercy.

Crocodile turned, his coat billowing behind him as he strode through the wreckage of Skylark Island. Flames licked the edges of buildings, and the cries of the defeated faded into the distance.

Lily followed, her footsteps hesitant but steady. She was walking a razor's edge, caught between her fear of Crocodile and the faint hope that this alliance might one day lead to freedom. For now, though, her survival depended on one thing: keeping the devil at her side satisfied.