Everything on the battlefield had dissipated.
Doflamingo now lay on the ground, no longer breathing.
The remaining members of the Donquixote Family were either dead, injured, or mostly arrested, all shackled with heavy chains.
Jake sat on the ground without much dignity, his expression weary.
The intense battle had left him utterly exhausted even after using Healing Prayer.
"I killed your only family. Don't you have anything to say to me?"
Jake suddenly asked Rosinante, who was silently holding Doflamingo's corpse.
Rosinante responded with calm detachment.
"The moment he shot and killed our father, he ceased being my brother. What I'm holding now is the brother from my childhood who hadn't completely died yet. In a little while, he'll just be the unforgivable leader of the Donquixote Family."
Though Rosinante's voice carried a slight chill as he spoke these words, Jake knew that for someone as kind-hearted and gentle as Rosinante, Doflamingo's death would undoubtedly be an extremely difficult thing to come to terms with.
But there were many things Jake couldn't provide perfect answers for.
He simply patted Rosinante's shoulder and said.
"After the reconstruction of Flevance is complete, come with me to meet Fleet Admiral Sengoku. He's been asking about you for a long time. Besides, most of the credit for the successful execution of all these plans belongs to you. Without your intelligence, I wouldn't have been able to so precisely counter all of Doflamingo's backup plans."
Rosinante could feel Jake's attempt at comfort.
He smiled and replied.
"Thank you, Jake. Just as the legends say, you truly are an angelically kind marine."
"Though it sounds strange, I appreciate the compliment."
Without saying much more, Jake left the scene, leaving the remaining matters for Rosinante to handle alone.
Meanwhile, he headed in Monet's direction.
After Doflamingo's defeat, Trebol had come to terms with reality.
He abandoned his previous life-for-life fighting style against Monet and began retreating while continuing to engage.
Though he held great expectations for Doflamingo and was fiercely loyal to him, that didn't mean he was willing to die alongside him.
Since failure was inevitable, Trebol chose to flee immediately and seek out another young man with the potential to become a king, just like Doflamingo.
He would then support that young man until he ascended to the throne.
However, this plan was frozen in its tracks—literally—by Monet before it could even begin.
The Mucus Fruit's escape abilities were formidable, but to create longer and more extensive mucus pathways, Trebol typically used only a thin layer of mucus to form a quick-passage route on the ground.
This tactic worked well against almost anyone, but against Monet, his thin mucus froze solid within seconds of appearing.
To prevent Trebol from moving swiftly across the ice, Monet even shaped the frozen surfaces into sharp icicles.
If Trebol didn't want his hard-earned mucus pathways to freeze, he would have to create thicker ones—but that meant producing more mucus, which took more time.
No matter what he did, escape from Monet became impossible.
Cornered by this near-perfect counter, Trebol gradually lost his rationality and sharp judgment.
In the end, the biting frost caught him just as he was about to slip out of Monet's sight, trapping him completely in the ice.
At that moment, a little girl who bore a striking resemblance to Monet emerged from the shadows and rushed toward her.
"Sister! I finally found you!"
Faced with her younger sister, Monet didn't hesitate—even knowing the terrifying Devil Fruit Sugar had consumed—and immediately embraced the sobbing girl tightly.
...
Meanwhile, on another battlefield, two warriors of pure love were locked in a one-on-one brawl, each with their own unshakable reasons to fight.
"Your fists really pack a punch, Senor," Tesoro spat out blood, grinning at the pacifier-sucking man before him.
The other man, in a voice that starkly contrasted his appearance, replied with equal admiration,
"Yours hurt far more, Tesoro!"
After speaking, the two men exchanged a smile before once again unleashing unrestrained blows upon each other's faces.
As both their bodies collapsed to the ground, they were utterly exhausted, having mutually acknowledged each other's manhood through their battle.
Now was the time for communication after their draw.
Neither worried about sudden sneak attacks nor potential ambushes from the other.
For these two men, fist-to-flesh combat was the most beautiful means to deepen their bond.
Their conversation gradually opened up, even touching upon more private matters.
"A man like you—why would you work for that bastard Doflamingo?"
Hearing Tesoro's words, Señor answered calmly:
"When my sister was hospitalized with a serious illness, I needed a large sum for surgery and medical fees. My salary at the time couldn't possibly cover such expenses, but as a man, I couldn't just watch my family die before my eyes."
"So when I was prepared to do anything to earn enough for her treatment, Doflamingo appeared before me. He gave me all the money I needed, with only one condition—that I become a core executive of his family."
"I don't have any great talents, but I know how to repay a debt of gratitude."
At this, Tesoro suddenly looked into the distance where their battle had ceased, his voice tinged with complexity.
"Your repayment shouldn't be built upon the suffering of countless others."
"I know. Though I've tried my best to avoid it, there's nothing I can do. I've committed sins, but I only wanted to protect the one I love."