"Fuffuffuffuffu!"
The eerie laugh rang out, sharp and mocking. Hawk's gaze immediately shifted toward the corner of the deck, where the fallen Den Den Mushi sat, its snail-like face twisted into a perfect mimicry of the speaker's arrogance.
"Step "
Dane quickly strode forward, scooping the Den Den Mushi off the bloodstained floor. He carried it to Hawk and presented it with both hands, his movements respectful and precise.
Hawk accepted the device silently. The strange, high-pitched laugh, the sunglasses painted across the snail's face, and its sinister grin confirmed his suspicion without a doubt.
The one on the other end of this line was none other than Donquixote Doflamingo the Heavenly Demon, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
"Fuffuffu… well now," Doflamingo's voice slid through the line, casual but laced with an undercurrent of menace. "Tell me, Marine. My little dog is he still alive?"
Hawk narrowed his eyes. Bellamy's desperate cries earlier had already exposed the truth, announcing Hawk's identity to his master.
He let out a soft chuckle. "Donquixote Doflamingo…"
"Oh?" the warlord replied, amusement dripping from his tone. "So you know me. That makes things easier."
His voice hardened slightly, though it retained that lazy arrogance.
"The Seven Warlords serve the World Government, just like your Marines. That means, whether you like it or not, we're technically allies. Now, that failure lying at your feet may be useless trash to me, but still…"
There was a pause, deliberate.
"He is my dog. So here's what you're going to do. Give me some face, Marine. Let my dog crawl away with his life. I'll deal with his incompetence myself."
Hawk smiled thinly at the word. Face?
Did Doflamingo think he was Shanks, the Red-Haired Emperor? And even if it were Shanks himself what then? Would Hawk hand over a pirate because someone demanded "face"? No. If Shanks wanted to interfere, let him try reasoning with Hawk's Buster Call. See if that gave him "face."
He exhaled a slow stream of smoke. "You're fortunate I'm a merciful man."
His voice was calm, almost too calm, void of any discernible emotion. He gestured lightly to Dane, who immediately understood. From his belt, Dane produced a regulation Marine pistol and handed it over.
"Fuffuffuffu!" Doflamingo's laugh returned, smug and victorious. "Good. Very good. I knew you'd be reasonable. You and I could make excellent partners, Marine. We could "
Bang! Bang!
Two shots rang out before the sentence could finish.
"AAAHHH!"
Bellamy's scream tore across the deck. Blood spurted violently from both knees, his legs shattered by the bullets. He writhed on the floor, howling in agony.
Hawk lowered the smoking pistol, his voice cold. "Doflamingo. A dog with broken legs. Do you still want him?"
Silence.
The line went quiet for several seconds. Then came a low, dangerous growl. "Marine… you dare provoke me?"
Before the words could fully leave the line
Bang! Bang!
Two more shots cracked through the air.
Bellamy shrieked again, but this time the sound was raw, broken. His wrists exploded in sprays of blood, his hands rendered useless. His cries dissolved into hoarse, pitiful gasps.
Hawk's expression didn't change. "A crippled dog. Do you still want him?"
Again, silence. But this time it was different. Not hesitation confusion. Doflamingo, one of the most feared and influential figures in the New World, couldn't comprehend it.
How could this Marine, this insignificant officer of some distant branch, dare strip him bare like this? Did Hawk not fear the Donquixote Family's vengeance? Did he not understand that Doflamingo's network reached into every corner of the world's underbelly? That even Vice Admiral Tsuru, the sharpest strategist in the Navy, tread carefully around him because of his heritage?
Did Hawk not realize that once, long ago, Doflamingo had been a Celestial Dragon? That secret alone gave him untouchable status.
And yet this man dared.
Bang!
A final gunshot ended the silence. The bullet tore cleanly through Bellamy's skull. His head jerked violently before slumping lifelessly to the ground. Warm blood and brain matter splattered across Hawk's boots.
Hawk's tone was flat, mocking. "Doflamingo. A dead dog. Do you still want him?"
For a heartbeat, there was nothing. Then the Den Den Mushi erupted into a screeching laugh, jagged and manic.
"Fuffuffu! Fuffuffuffuffu!" Doflamingo's voice was wild, unhinged, the kind of laughter that sliced through the air like knives. "Interesting! So very interesting! You've got guts, Marine. Tell me your name! Shout it loud! Because I swear, I'll cut your head from your shoulders with my own hands!"
Hawk chuckled softly, as if entertained. "You'll know soon enough. But before that, I've prepared a gift for you. A very special one. I think you'll like it."
He snapped the line shut, tossing both the pistol and the Den Den Mushi back to Dane. "Clean up the rest."
"Yes, sir!"
Dane's blade sang from its sheath, and the Marines surged forward. The deck filled with screams, gunfire, and steel flashing in the sunlight. In less than a minute, the last remnants of the Bellamy Pirates were silenced forever.
Hawk stepped to the bow of the ship, a cigar burning between his lips. Smoke curled around him as he stared across the horizon, his mind already racing ahead.
Donquixote Doflamingo. The "Heavenly Demon." The so-called "King of the Underworld."
Publicly, he was a Warlord of the Sea, sanctioned by the World Government, King of Dressrosa, shielded by a veneer of legitimacy. With that title, he'd built an empire, wealth and power extending into every market and every black deal across the seas.
But beneath that glittering crown lay filth and rot.
Doflamingo was Joker the most powerful broker in the underworld. He sold weapons to fuel wars, peddled death as if it were a commodity. He trafficked human lives, running auctions where Celestial Dragons and nobles bought slaves like cattle. Entire towns had been wiped from the map by his orders. Eight at least, destroyed with his own hands. He dabbled in drugs, contraband, every crime imaginable.
And this monster thought he deserved "face"?
Hawk's eyes hardened. You hide behind your lineage, behind the secret treasure of Mary Geoise. That's why the World Government hesitates, why they let you breathe. But what you think is your greatest shield… is also your greatest weakness.
Expose him. Expose everything. And the Government, desperate to protect its fragile image, would abandon him like the trash he was. His precious title as Warlord would vanish overnight, and he would be left with nothing but enemies.
Hawk took a long drag on his cigar. Not yet. Your empire lies in the New World. For now, I'll burn Paradise clean. When I'm done here, I'll come for you.
His lips curled into a cruel smile. "But first… let me send you a gift."
He whispered the name with deliberate venom. "Vergo. The 'Demon Bamboo.'"
One of Doflamingo's most trusted top executives. A man who had infiltrated the Navy for over a decade, now holding the rank of Vice Admiral and serving as base commander of G-5.
If the Fleet Admiral Sengoku were to receive evidence of Vergo's treachery… If he learned Vergo was the one responsible for exposing Rosinante, leading directly to his death…
Yes. That would be a gift worthy of Doflamingo's fury.
Hawk turned his head, his eyes sharp as blades. "Dane."
"Sir."
"Prepare a level-one encrypted intelligence file. Send it directly to Fleet Admiral Sengoku under my authority. The contents are as follows…"
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