Chapter 56: Master Carl

Carl paused for a moment, then looked up at Doflamingo.

"To be honest, I quite admire you, Doflamingo."

Doflamingo, who had already resigned himself to fate, felt a flicker of hope.

When Garling had handed Carl the decision, Doflamingo had assumed it was over for him. Carl was young—too young to care about his fate. In Doflamingo's eyes, Garling's actions had been a casual dismissal, as if throwing away an unwanted scrap of paper.

But now…

Hearing Carl say he admired him changed everything.

Not being executed had already been a miracle. But *admiration?* That was beyond anything Doflamingo had expected. He looked at Carl with newfound anticipation, realizing his entire future now rested in Carl's hands.

Yet Carl wasn't in a rush to deliver his verdict.

Instead, he asked, "You have a younger brother, right? Why didn't he come here with you?"

Doflamingo blinked, caught off guard by the question.

"Yes, his name is Rosinante. He got scared and ran off somewhere."

"Oh, so you're the only one left in your family now." Carl's tone remained even. "If you were allowed to return, do you really think you'd have a place here?"

Doflamingo's gaze instinctively drifted toward Mjosgard.

The noble's expression was pure disdain.

Doflamingo clenched his fists, but he had no retort. He already knew the answer. Mjosgard's reaction wasn't personal—it represented the Donquixote family's collective stance.

Even if they let him stay, he would forever be an outcast. A traitor's son.

Carl was right. He *had* nowhere to belong.

Surrounded by sneering nobles who viewed him as nothing more than an amusing spectacle, Doflamingo felt a deep, gnawing emptiness.

Yet—

Among all the figures in the room, only one had spoken to him like he mattered.

Carl's words weren't particularly warm, but to a ten-year-old boy drowning in humiliation, they felt like a lifeline.

And because that lifeline came from *him*—the untouchable heir of the Figarland family—Doflamingo clung to it desperately.

When he spoke again, the way he addressed Carl had changed.

"Lord Carl… what do you think I should do?"

Carl smiled.

"We, the Figarland family, can accept you."

*"Nani?!"*

A collective gasp rippled through the chamber.

Even Garling glanced at Carl in mild surprise but remained silent, watching with intrigue.

Mjosgard, however, was the first to react. He bolted upright, staring at Carl as if he had gone insane.

"Lord Carl, are you *joking*? He's the son of a *traitor!*"

Carl's expression darkened. A wisp of black mist curled from the corner of his eye as his voice dropped into a deadly whisper.

"What? Are you questioning my decision?"

**Buzz.**

Jet-black **Conqueror's Haki** erupted from Carl.

The room dimmed.

For an instant, it felt as though the entire hall had been swallowed by a void.

The Celestial Dragons, far too weak to withstand its force, froze in terror.

Mjosgard staggered. His vision blurred, his head spinning—until his legs finally gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor.

The other nobles sat paralyzed in their chairs, gripping the armrests with white-knuckled fists, too afraid to speak.

Saturn, observing from the side, remained composed.

He wasn't the least bit surprised.

The heir of the Figarland family *not* having Conqueror's Haki? That would've been the real shock.

But what truly caught his attention wasn't Carl's display of dominance—it was his *words.*

Did he hear that right?

Carl was offering Doflamingo a place in the *Figarland* family?

That was absurd.

The Figarland name wasn't just prestigious—it carried an authority feared even among the Celestial Dragons.

Even Doflamingo, who had always believed in his own superiority, couldn't fully process it.

When he finally spoke, his voice wavered.

"L-Lord Carl… are you *serious*?"

Carl frowned impatiently.

"I don't have time to joke with you."

Doflamingo inhaled sharply, his young mind racing.

Then, with absolute conviction, he dropped to one knee.

"If Lord Carl allows me to join the Figarland family—" he declared, his voice loud and clear, "I swear my allegiance to you until death!"

Carl merely waved a hand.

"Well, you can go now."

Doflamingo froze.

*"Ah?"*

Go where?

Was he supposed to report to the Figarland estate? Was there a formal process?

His mind scrambled for answers as he asked cautiously, "What does Lord Carl mean?"

"It means you can leave Mary Geoise now," Carl said flatly. "Go to the outside world. Get stronger. When you've gained enough power—come find me. The Figarland family does not accept *weaklings*."

Doflamingo stared.

Carl's words painted an image so vivid, so *tantalizing*, that it made his heart pound.

He had never thought about it before.

But now, with Carl's decree, the picture was clear.

An undeniable *path* had been laid before him.

Carl wasn't giving him a free pass. He was throwing him into the fire, challenging him to forge himself into something *worthy.*

Doflamingo's face stiffened, but he quickly forced himself to bow low.

"Yes! I am truly grateful for Lord Carl's kindness! I will do my best—I swear never to let you down!"

Carl smirked. "Good."

Doflamingo turned and strode toward the door, his mind still reeling from what had just transpired.

Just as he reached the exit, Carl's voice stopped him.

"Oh, one more thing."

Doflamingo turned, standing at attention.

"You must've gone through quite the ordeal to reach Mary Geoise," Carl noted. "When you take the elevator down, you'll see a ship. Board it and find a man named *Spandam.* Tell him I sent you. He'll get you wherever you need to go."

Doflamingo's eyes widened in disbelief.

A *ship?*

He had barely survived getting here in the first place—escaping on his own would've been impossible.

But Carl had already anticipated that.

This wasn't just an order.

It was proof that Carl had *already* accepted him.

Overwhelmed, Doflamingo bowed deeply—his eyes glistening, his heart pounding with gratitude.

Then, still keeping his head lowered, he slowly backed toward the door.

Not until he reached the threshold did he turn.

And then—he was gone.

The moment the door shut behind him, Garling spoke.

"Carl," he said, voice laced with curiosity, "what are you thinking? Don't tell me you were just toying with him."

Carl chuckled.

"Uncle Garling," he replied, "for once, you're not as sharp as I am."

Garling raised an eyebrow.

"That kid," Carl continued, "has *potential.* If we can shape him properly, he'll be a valuable asset to the Figarland family."

Garling exhaled, shaking his head in amusement.

"A valuable asset, huh?"

His gaze lingered on Carl for a moment longer.

Then, he smirked.

"Interesting."