-Real World-
Which force had the most vested interest in the Dressrosa incident unfolding on the Sky Screen? The Donquixote Family, led by Doflamingo, claimed that dubious honor without question.
"Fufufufu... how considerate of our mysterious benefactor." Doflamingo lounged on his ornate throne, one long leg crossed over the other, his signature grin stretched wide beneath his pink feather coat. "The Sky Screen was kind enough not to expose our Punk Hazard operations directly. Though I suspect Vergo has already been captured by that damned Admiral by now."
His fingers drummed against the armrest with barely contained agitation. The Heavenly Yakhsa had built his reputation on control—control of information, control of fear, control of every variable that could threaten his carefully constructed kingdom. The Sky Screen's revelations represented chaos incarnate, a force beyond his influence that could unravel years of meticulous planning.
"The future of Dressrosa is shaping up to be quite the spectacle, isn't it?"
Trebol, his ever-present companion, oozed closer to the throne with his characteristic slobbering enthusiasm. Thick mucus dripped from his nose as he spoke, "Young Master, the way the Sky Screen handled the toy situation was perfect for us! We can spin whatever story we want about those... mechanical marvels... and the people will eat it up like candy."
The sticky executive's suggestion carried the hallmark cruelty of the Donquixote Family's methods—feed the public just enough truth mixed with carefully crafted lies to keep them pacified. Let them live in their comfortable delusions while the real horrors remained hidden in Sugar's shadow.
Several other family executives shifted uncomfortably in the throne room. The logic behind transforming Dressrosa into a major tourist destination escaped many of them entirely. Their traditional revenue streams—arms dealing, human trafficking, and various black-market enterprises—generated substantial profits with minimal exposure risk. Why invite countless outsiders to their island when each new visitor represented a potential threat to operational security?
"Young Master," Machvise spoke up hesitantly, his massive frame dwarfing the ornate pillar he leaned against, "wouldn't increased tourism make our... other businesses more vulnerable to exposure? The profit margins don't seem worth the additional risk."
Doflamingo's grin never wavered, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. "You're thinking too small, Machvise. The artificial Devil Fruit project, the giant experiments—everything we do serves to strengthen our position with the Yonko. Those alliances will prove invaluable when the Marines finally make their move."
His explanation carried the weight of absolute authority, but privately, even Doflamingo felt the growing pressure of maintaining so many complex schemes simultaneously. Each alliance demanded tribute, each secret operation required resources, and now the Sky Screen threatened to upset the delicate balance he'd spent years constructing.
Senior Pink, still absurdly dressed in his pink baby outfit with pacifier firmly in place, had been quietly contemplating a different aspect of the Sky Screen's revelation. "That man Eren... if he's getting along with me in the future, then at least he's not an enemy." His voice carried an unusual note of uncertainty. "But that little girl with him..."
The memory of Elsa's defiant expression and aristocratic bearing troubled the usually unflappable executive. Why would his future self care so deeply about a child who couldn't be older than five? The implications were disturbing, especially given the dangerous world they inhabited.
Diamante, resplendent in his clownish attire, had been conducting his own silent investigation. As one of the original four executives, he'd known Doflamingo since childhood, and certain facial features were impossible to forget. His gaze shifted between his Young Master and Violet, who stood at attention near the chamber's far wall.
That bone structure... those eyes... the way she carries herself despite her age...
The realization hit him like a physical blow. Little Elsa bore an unmistakable resemblance to both Doflamingo and Violet, as if their features had been combined and refined in a child's face. The timing made perfect sense too.
Diamante's sudden intake of breath didn't go unnoticed by his fellow executives. One by one, they followed his line of sight, making the same devastating connection. The throne room's atmosphere grew thick with tension as the implications settled over everyone present.
The Young Master's child... with Violet...
Violet herself felt the weight of their collective scrutiny like a physical presence. Her Observation Haki, refined through years of survival in hostile territory, picked up the rapid shift in emotional energy surrounding her. When she saw Diamante's knowing expression, her heart nearly stopped.
No... they couldn't have figured it out... could they?
As a woman who'd endured years of Doflamingo's "attention," she understood her position perfectly. To the world, she might appear to be his lover, but the reality was far more brutal. She was a conquered princess, a trophy to be displayed and used as he saw fit. The idea of bearing his child, of bringing an innocent life into their twisted dynamic, sent waves of revulsion through her core.
Yet the evidence was undeniable. Elsa's features, her mannerisms, even the protective way Senior had spoken to her—it all pointed to one inescapable conclusion.
Doflamingo's sharp eyes caught the subtle changes in body language around him. His executives' barely concealed excitement, Violet's carefully controlled panic, the way conversations had ground to a halt—he was no fool.
"Violet," his voice cut through the silence like a blade, "you look pale. Perhaps you should retire for the evening."
It wasn't a suggestion.
The former princess bowed stiffly, her movements mechanical as she fought to maintain composure. "Of course, Young Master. If you'll excuse me."
She walked from the throne room with measured steps, each one requiring tremendous willpower to maintain. Once beyond the massive doors, however, her facade crumbled entirely. The possibility of having a child with her family's destroyer, of being bound to him by blood as well as circumstance, threatened to shatter what remained of her sanity.
I need time to think... time to process this...
Back in the throne room, Doflamingo's attention had already shifted back to the Sky Screen. "Enough speculation for now," he commanded, his voice carrying just enough edge to remind everyone of their place. "The screen is changing. Pay attention."
The display shifted to show Robin and Chopper, the Straw Hat Pirates' archaeologist and doctor, making their way through Dressrosa's less reputable districts. Robin's voluptuous figure was impossible to miss even beneath her loose clothing, and she moved with the confident grace of someone comfortable in dangerous territory.
"This beautiful lady certainly knows her way around," came a voice from the shadows as they approached what appeared to be an ordinary tavern. "How exactly did you find me?"
Robin's response was professionally smooth, betraying years of experience in similar situations. "Before joining my current crew, I spent considerable time in the underworld. I know how to contact information brokers when necessary."
The woman who emerged from the shadows—distinguished by her impressive afro and shrewd eyes—led them inside with the practiced efficiency of someone who made her living selling secrets. The tavern's interior was deliberately unremarkable, designed to avoid attracting unwanted attention.
Once they were settled in a private room, Robin dispensed with pleasantries entirely. "I need to locate eternal log pose for this island. My crew needs to leave Dressrosa as quickly as possible, and time is becoming a critical factor."
The broker lit a cigarette with practiced ease, studying her clients through the rising smoke. "If you'd approached me ten days ago, I might have been able to help. Unfortunately, the Donquixote Family has been cracking down hard on log pose sales recently. I have no idea what's gotten into them, but they're treating it like a matter of national security."
Robin felt her heart sink, though her expression remained carefully neutral. "Are you certain you don't have access to any pointers? I'm prepared to pay well above market rates."
"Listen, sweetheart," the broker replied with genuine regret, "I don't even dare log pose right now. The last three merchants who tried to sell them on the black market simply... disappeared. I'm not looking to join them."
The archaeologist's disappointment was palpable, though she maintained her professional demeanor. This was shaping up to be her most unsuccessful intelligence gathering mission in years.
"I can offer some free information as compensation," the broker continued, perhaps sensing her frustration. "Dressrosa is hosting a major music festival tomorrow night. Big names, international attention, the works."
She took another drag from her cigarette before continuing. "One of the headlining speakers is supposedly from the former royal family of Flevance. They claim they're going to reveal the truth about what happened to the White City. Sounds like quite the publicity stunt to me."
Robin and Chopper left the intelligence station empty-handed, their mission a complete failure. As they walked through the darkening streets, Chopper voiced what they were both thinking.
"Should we try another broker?"
But Robin had stopped listening entirely. Three figures in pristine white suits and masks had just passed them in the street, moving with the purposeful stride of government agents on official business.
Cipher Pol...
Robin pulled her hat down low, her entire body tensing as childhood nightmares came flooding back. After years of running from the World Government's reach, she could recognize their agents instinctively.
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