"What a persistent question," Saint Imu said with an expression that didn't change, her voice calm but edged with cold intent, "do you think we do not have to deal with people like Gol D. Roger?"
"Of course we must," Imu continued, her red eyes narrowing as if glowing from within. "Anyone who opposes us must be eliminated, especially the members of the D Clan."
A flicker of killing intent passed through Imu's crimson gaze. She looked down at Lloyd and spoke slowly.
"The people of the D Clan are guided by Joy Boy's will and protected by that same force. Before they complete certain tasks of their own, it is exceedingly difficult to kill them, much like Dragon, Garp's son."
Lloyd listened quietly, expression unreadable. The idea that members of the D Clan were shielded by some mysterious force was a familiar thought. After all, when Dragon had once slipped from Lloyd's grasp before, Lloyd had considered the same possibility — that those tied to Joy Boy's legacy seemed to be protected by a strange power.
But Lloyd wasn't swayed by mysticism. What he believed in was the supremacy of power itself, absolute force. If one's strength was sufficiently overwhelming, no so‑called will could stand in the way.
Imu pressed her slender hands lightly against the golden armrests of the Empty Throne and slowly moved them along its surface, her voice low and measured.
"Roger's talent truly was exceptional. You serve in the Marines now. If you ever have the chance, you must kill him."
Lloyd nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. From what he knew, Roger was already terminally ill — even without any intervention, he might not have long to live.
Of course, personally executing Roger would be interesting. The ideal moment, in Lloyd's mind, would be after Roger returned from Laugh Tale and claimed the title of Pirate King.
Just imagine Garp, tirelessly chasing Roger across the seas, only to have legends speak of how the Marine vice admiral drove the Pirate King to desperate extremes, all because of his relentless pursuit.
As Lloyd contemplated this, Imu's voice sounded again. This time there was an unhidden fatigue in her tone.
"All right, you may go now. Remember your mission. The position of Chief of the Divine Knight Order will belong to your Figarland Family in the future."
Lloyd did not take this promise to heart, but he simply smiled and bowed slightly, then turned and walked out.
At the palace doors, they closed behind him with a heavy thud. Lloyd stopped for a brief moment to admire the surrounding sea of flowers, his presence lingering for a breath before his figure dissolved into shadow and disappeared from sight.
He returned directly to the Figarland Family territory and reported the meeting with Saint Imu to Saint Garling.
After listening, Saint Garling pondered thoughtfully before speaking.
"Indeed, Saint Imu has never stopped fearing Joy Boy. Unless he completely removes that thorn from his side, he can never sit on that throne in peace."
Lloyd picked up a grape and placed it in his mouth, then casually tossed the remaining bunch into his dark Bible as he spoke.
"I can understand. If it were me," Lloyd said with an unreadable smile, "I would feel like the throne was burning the backside as well."
Saint Garling regarded him quietly for a moment, then asked, "So what do you plan to do next?"
"Do?" Lloyd's voice was flat, eyes glinting, "Kill Roger."
A small flame ignited on Lloyd's fingertips, flickering as it consumed the residual grape juice.
Watching the dancing flame, Lloyd continued, "I won't harm that red‑haired brat, but once Roger is dead, do you want me to bring him back?"
For the first time, a reluctant trace of willingness flickered across Saint Garling's features, a silent acceptance that he did not outright reject.
Seeing an opportunity, Lloyd struck while the iron was hot.
"Uncle Garling, no matter what, he is still a member of the Figarland Family. At the very least, he should know of his identity, right?"
Saint Garling frowned, about to respond, when Captain Carlos appeared at the door.
"Saint Garling, Rosward Saint requests an audience at the door!"
Saint Garling swallowed his words and said in his deep, measured voice, "Understood, let him in."
Lloyd shrugged, thinking to himself, Stubborn as ever. When the time comes, I'll have to bring that kid Shanks back to see him.
After a short while, Rosward Saint arrived, accompanied by men in suits carrying large boxes.
Seeing Saint Garling and Lloyd, Rosward swallowed nervously before forcing a flattering smile that looked awkward on his face — a rare expression for a Celestial Dragon.
Saint Garling and Lloyd did not speak. Rosward faltered for a moment, clearly uneasy, but pressed on.
"Saint Garling, Saint Lloyd, I have come to apologize!"
He turned and ordered the men in suits to set the boxes down and open them. Immediately, the reception hall was flooded with dazzling golden light.
The boxes were filled with gold and jewels, so magnificent their value could not be measured in simple Berries. Even for a Celestial Dragon like Rosward, this was a massive fortune — true hard currency everywhere.
Despite the lavish display, both Saint Garling and Lloyd merely glanced at the treasure and turned their gazes away.
Saint Garling spoke slowly, "Rosward, by bringing these here, are you insulting the Figarland Family?"
He placed a hand lightly on the hilt of his sword and flicked his finger.
Click.
Only a small section of the blade revealed itself, yet the icy chill radiating from it was enough to suffocate Rosward in terror.
That slight motion alone made Rosward's legs go weak, and he collapsed to the ground. Lloyd frowned slightly, thinking to himself that if Rosward soiled himself here, he might just castrate the man himself.
Rosward's entourage stood frozen, as if their limbs were filled with lead. Not a single one dared step forward to help their master.
Seeing Rosward's cowardice, Saint Garling lost interest in continuing the exchange. He sat down on the sofa, lifted his teacup, took a light sip, and said in a detached voice,
"Leave."
Rosward was not willing to go quietly. Inside his mind, he still believed Saint Garling was furious. After all, when he left home, his father — head of their family — had told him that if he failed to win the Figarland Family's forgiveness, he would be cast out of the Holy Land.
Frantically, Rosward turned his eyes toward Lloyd.
"Saint Lloyd! I heard you are very interested in collecting Devil Fruits. I brought three this time, and all have been appraised!"
Lloyd's interest was genuinely piqued. He walked slowly to stand before Rosward and looked down.
"Bring them out so I may see."
Rosward hastily nodded. His men in suits brought out three small boxes and set them before Lloyd.
Inside were three Devil Fruits of unusual shape.
Two were elongated fruits that curved like bananas, one green and one yellow. The third was the most striking — a round, cherry‑like fruit that gleamed with potential.
In the world of Devil Fruits, there are rare and unique designs — such as banana‑shaped fruits like those seen in various Devil Fruits including fruits that resemble banana forms. These unusual forms reflect the varied and unpredictable nature of Devil Fruit appearances.
The third fruit, though not officially named in canon, reminded Lloyd of explosive blossoms — a fruit that conjured imagery of something planted to blow itself apart like a pyrotechnic flower.
Each unusual fruit arrived in its own box, their forms and colors promising unique, unpredictable powers.
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