...
The Calm Belt.
What was once a tranquil, glassy sea was now stained red with blood. Strange and grotesque creatures, drawn by the scent, slithered through the water. But they weren't here to feast leisurely.
"Ow! That hurts! I'm done with this, I'm leaving!"
A finned platypus-sheep rubbed its elongated fins against the battered one, then turned and swam into the depths.
"Ow! Like hell I'm leaving! Look at my horns!!! Broken! My majestic image is ruined! I want him dead!!"
The bull-eel's eyes were bloodshot, and the agony of its shattered horn made it thrash its tail violently against the sea.
"Damn bastard is floating in the air—we can't even touch him!"
"I think we made a mistake. We shouldn't have attacked one by one."
"You're right! Everyone, all at once! Cut off his escape!"
...
A moment later, the ocean's surface was punctured by countless monstrous tails. With a deafening roar, they lashed out at Doflamingo, striking upward like spears.
"Good! Now this is what I call a real game of Whack-a-Mole! Fufufufu!"
A feral grin spread across Doflamingo's face as massive strings coiled into gigantic forms to meet the oncoming assault.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The sounds of flesh colliding against constructs echoed like war drums from the heavens.
...
Three days later.
A fleet of colossal Sea Kings lay unconscious on the ocean's surface, their eyes swirling in defeat.
"That was refreshing! I should visit the Calm Belt more often."
With bloodied but exhilarated fists, Doflamingo flexed his fingers and resumed his journey home.
...
North Blue.
The dreamlike white city of Flevance.
At the Trafalgar Clinic—
"Law, no! You can't eat that."
Trafalgar Lina, heavily pregnant, struggled to lift her nearly two-year-old son, trying to pry the Skypiean cotton candy from his tiny hands.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Lina, can you get the door? The beef stew is almost ready, and I can't leave the stove!" Trafalgar Bone's voice called from the kitchen.
"Got it!"
Click!
"Sorry for the intrusion, Miss Lina. This is for little Law."
"Welcome, Rosinante!"
Lina's face lit up in surprise. It had been three months since Rosinante last visited Flevance.
She accepted the Skypiean shell he handed over and tucked it into Law's arms before calling toward the kitchen.
"Bone! Rosinante is here!"
Meanwhile, Rosinante stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes, making silly faces at the curious toddler.
...
Later, in the clinic's upstairs study.
"Bone, how is your research on Amber Lead Syndrome progressing?"
"Although I wasn't around during the last outbreak, I've examined nearly a hundred years' worth of patient records from this clinic. This country is undeniably dying. Lifespans are plummeting. Lina and I… we might not even make it to thirty-five."
Bone glanced downstairs at Lina and little Law, then shut his eyes tightly, his voice thick with emotion.
"And Law… this generation, if they stay here, they likely won't live past thirteen."
He hesitated before continuing.
"The worst part? Our unborn daughter, Lami… her organs might start failing before she even turns five. She probably won't make it past ten."
BANG!
Rosinante slammed his fist against the table, his expression twisted in anguish.
"What about leaving the country?"
"Amber Lead Syndrome isn't contagious, but the World Government and royal family have convinced the outside world otherwise. Our borders are sealed. We, the common folk, are already caged birds."
Bone lowered his head onto the desk, staring at his hands in despair. Hands that had performed countless surgeries—yet had no power to break this cruel fate.
"Maybe ignorance really is bliss," he muttered. "Once people learn the truth, they're only left with the despair of waiting for death."
"Any treatment options?" Rosinante pressed.
"I've contacted over a dozen fellow doctors to experiment with possible cures. Rosinante, you should leave this country. If there's any progress, I'll inform you. The pollution is worsening—you're at risk, too."
"Bone, can you help me out here? Law won't let me get anything done like this!"
"Coming, coming!"
Bone turned to head downstairs but suddenly forced a weak smile. "At least for now, Rosinante… I'm happy."
...
Lina stood at the doorway, hands on her hips, glaring at the mischievous toddler.
"Law! Don't pull your father's hair! Say goodbye to Uncle Rosinante."
"@@@!"
"See you next time, Bone, Lina, and little Law! Bleh!"
Click.
Rubbing his stiffened face, Rosinante turned to leave—but his den den mushi rang.
Gurururu!
"Soundless Barrier."
After hurriedly setting up an anti-eavesdropping field, Rosinante picked up the call.
"Brother!"
"Rosie, where are you?"
"I'm in Flevance, Brother."
"Oh? Collecting what few Amber Lead goods remain on the market for the family?"
"Ah? Ah! Yes, Brother. I just arrived in Flevance today."
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Rosinante asked, "Did you need something?"
"Oh? Do I need a reason to call my little brother? We're family, Rosie."
"Of course not! I miss you, too!"
"Fufufufu, good. I took a trip to the New World and just crossed the Calm Belt. I'll be waiting for you in North Odesse. It's been two years—I hope you've improved. Be careful not to contract Amber Lead Syndrome."
Click.
Doflamingo hung up, a knowing smile spreading across his face. Rosinante's forced enthusiasm had been obvious—but there was no need to call him out.
Instead, he'd use it as an excuse to beat him when they met.
...
Days later.
North Odesse.
Thanks to its corrupt ruling powers, this rare "pirate-friendly nation" had turned into a den of outlaws. The harbor was packed with pirate crews, their ships crammed along the docks.
The new royal palace, Dettler, stood ominously close to the shoreline. A maze of brothels, gambling dens, bars, shipyards, and black-market traders stretched from the palace to the coast.
Weapons, drugs, women, gold—anything a pirate could want was available here. It had earned the nickname "Little Sabaody."
At its heart stood the grand Donquixote Agency, a hub for bounty dealings, arms trades, and high-stakes gambling.
Inside, the air was thick with tension.
"Stop! Stop! Dammit, just stop already!"
"Whitejack! Whitejack!"
"Congratulations to those who bet on Black Five."
"Hahahaha! I won! Drinks are on me tonight, boys!!!"
"OHHHHH!!!"
"Bastard! Just one more point!"
A furious pirate, nostrils flaring with rage, began to shift into a minotaur-like form. The crowd erupted into laughter—there was nothing more entertaining in a casino than a sore loser.
"Hahahaha! Look at this idiot minotaur—always losing!"
"Yeah! Always just one point off!"
"Betting against him is free money!"
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+220 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg