Elder Saturn's polished shoes clicked against the wooden pier as he walked with the deliberate grace of someone accustomed to absolute authority. His calm demeanor was a thin veneer, masking the immense weight of the decisions and plans he carried. The Cipher Pol agent, trailing a step behind, stiffened at the growing tension in the air, his neutral expression barely concealing the unease building within him.
"Keep yourselves restrained," Saturn commanded, his voice a low, chilling murmur that carried with the weight of unyielding authority. "Scratch all the preparations you've made. I will not tolerate any friction with the Donquixote Pirates, especially not for the time being. Is that understood?"
The Cipher Pol agent hesitated, his professionalism faltering in the face of the Elder's sudden shift in tone. He straightened his back and mustered his courage, knowing his next words might carry unforeseen consequences.
"But... Elder Saturn," he began cautiously, "three of our Aegis Division agents have already infiltrated Dressrosa, under orders from the other Elders. Shall I issue their recall?"
Saturn's footsteps ceased abruptly, the silence that followed heavy and oppressive. Slowly, he turned, his aged but piercing gaze locking onto the agent with a force that made the younger man feel as though his soul were being scrutinized. The agent's heart pounded as he braced himself for what was to come.
"Three agents, you say?" Saturn repeated, his voice deceptively mild, the kind of calm that precedes a storm. "Already infiltrated, under orders from the other Elders, you claim?"
The agent swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on his temple. "Y-Yes, Elder Saturn. It was... in anticipation of securing leverage. Should we—"
A raised hand silenced him, as effectively as a blade across the throat. Saturn resumed walking, the rhythmic cadence of his steps echoing against the pier. The looming fortress of Dressrosa's port drew closer, its banners bearing the unmistakable crest of the Donquixote Family swaying lazily in the tropical breeze.
"There is no need to recall them," Saturn said at last, his voice as sharp as tempered steel.
"Let them continue their work. If they can sow discord within the Donquixote Family or secure even a single defector, it will serve our interests well. Better yet, if they can strike a chord of loyalty to our cause, we'll have a weapon at the heart of their empire when the time comes." A small, almost imperceptible smile flickered across Saturn's lips.
"Should they fail or be discovered? Their sacrifice will be a useful reminder of what happens when pawns overreach."
The agent nodded stiffly, understanding that failure was not an option—for the infiltrators or for himself.
As they approached the pier, the imposing figure of Donquixote Doflamingo came into view. Dressed in his signature pristine white coat, which billowed gently in the breeze, and gold-rimmed sunglasses that gleamed under the sunlight, Doflamingo radiated an air of arrogance and control.
Behind him loomed Issho, the blind but formidable guardian of Dressrosa, whose sheer presence spoke of unmatched power. A handful of the Donquixote Family's elite flanked them, their relaxed stances belying the razor-sharp vigilance in their eyes.
Elder Saturn's gaze lingered on Doflamingo. Despite his outwardly relaxed demeanor, Saturn could sense the calculated menace beneath it. Every detail, from the lack of pomp in the reception to the precision with which the Donquixote forces had positioned themselves, was deliberate—a statement of strength. The message was clear: We don't need theatrics. We are secure in our power.
Saturn's calm, deliberate pace slowed as he addressed the Cipher Pol leader. "Understand this," he said, his voice a low growl that carried the weight of a commandment.
"The Donquixote Pirates are not to be underestimated. Not now, not ever. Their power has grown to a point that even we must tread carefully. For now, overt aggression will destabilize the equilibrium we've worked tirelessly to maintain."
He paused, his sharp eyes scanning the port, taking in every shadow, every alley. "Dressrosa is their stronghold. They know every corner of this land, every heartbeat within its borders. If you provoke them, I will not shield you from the consequences. This is their territory, and they know it better than you ever could."
The agent's breath caught, but he managed a quick, clipped, "Understood, Elder Saturn."
As they stepped onto the pier, Saturn straightened his tie with deliberate precision. He cast a final glance at Doflamingo, the faintest smirk playing on the warlord's lips. Saturn's expression betrayed nothing, but internally, he calculated every move, every possibility.
For now, cooperation was necessary, but the wheels of the World Government turned ever forward, and Dressrosa's time would come.
For now, however, the Elder had come to achieve his purpose, and he would need Doflamingo's consent.
The tension in the air was palpable as Elder Saturn cast a quick glance behind him, his sharp gaze settling on Agana. She walked with an air of grace and calm that was almost unnerving, her celestial robes pristine, her expression unreadable. Elder Saturn's voice was a low rumble, directed at the Cipher Pol operative beside him.
"Keep an eye on her," he said, his tone icy. "I don't like how obedient she's been. A pawn, even one of her stature, should resist when used for such purposes. Instead, she's been far too composed, too calculating." His gaze darkened. "It's as if she has something planned."
The Cipher Pol agent nodded stiffly, fully aware of the complexity of the situation. Lady Agana was, after all, a Celestial Dragon by birth—a rank that demanded deference, even from him. Yet Elder Saturn's authority eclipsed hers in the chain of power, making his orders absolute. Any action against her would require the Elder's direct command.
As Saturn's entourage approached the bustling pier, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to grow heavier. The towering presence of Donquixote Doflamingo became visible, his iconic white coat and feathered cape swaying slightly in the sea breeze. His figure was unmistakable, a walking embodiment of confidence and danger.
"Fufufufufu…!" Doflamingo's signature laugh rang out, startling those nearby. Then, to everyone's shock, he stepped forward with an enthusiastic swagger, arms outstretched as if greeting a dear friend.
"Welcome, welcome… to Dressrosa!" He announced with exaggerated cheer, his grin wide and sinister.
Elder Saturn's stride faltered, his expression tightening ever so slightly. It was subtle, but those who knew him well—few as they were—could sense his simmering fury. His jaw clenched as Doflamingo's next action unfolded, an affront that would be remembered for years to come.
Instead of acknowledging Saturn, the supposed guest of honor, Doflamingo bypassed the entire World Government delegation without so much as a glance. His sharp, almost predatory focus locked onto the smaller group trailing behind—the Marine contingent.
More specifically, the Hero of the Marines.
"Ah, Garp-san," Doflamingo purred, his grin widening even further. "Welcome to Dressrosa. My little brother has told me so much about you; we wouldn't be here today if not for you." His voice dripped with a mock warmth that made it difficult to discern whether it was genuine respect or calculated theater. He bowed slightly, though his eyes sparkled with mischief, as if enjoying the collective bewilderment of everyone present.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to freeze.
Elder Saturn's expression darkened into a mask of barely restrained rage. The Elders were the pinnacle of power, second only to Imu-sama, and for a fallen—noble—no, for anyone—to treat him as an afterthought was an unspeakable insult. The celestial banners of the World Government flapped in the wind, a stark contrast to the profound disrespect they had just been shown.
Meanwhile, Garp stood there, mid-nose-pick, blinking at Doflamingo like he was the most bizarre creature he'd ever encountered. Even the Marine hero, renowned for his unshakable composure and carefree attitude, seemed momentarily taken aback.
"What the hell's wrong with you, brat?" Garp finally said, his voice carrying a mixture of irritation and amusement. He flicked away the evidence of his unrefined habit and scratched his head, his expression one of genuine confusion. "Why're you acting all weird? Did you hit your head or somethin'?"
The surrounding Marines and agents turned their attention to Garp, their eyes wide with disbelief. The Donquixote Family's legendary master, one of the four Emperors of the New World, a man feared and respected across the seas, was practically groveling in front of the Marine hero.
Before anyone could make sense of the situation, a cold, authoritative voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Is this how you welcome your guests, Donquixote?" Elder Saturn's words were calm, but they carried the weight of a hurricane. Each syllable seemed to reverberate, making the air around them heavy with the promise of retribution. His face remained neutral, but his eyes burned with cold fury.
Doflamingo turned slowly, his smile never wavering, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—an acknowledgment of Saturn's anger. He straightened, his posture still relaxed but now tinged with a mock politeness.
"My apologies, Elder Saturn," Doflamingo said, his tone dripping with insincerity. "But how could I possibly ignore such an esteemed guest as the Hero of the Marines?" He gestured grandly toward Garp, his grin widening. "A man of his stature deserves a proper welcome, wouldn't you agree?"
Agana, standing off to the side, couldn't suppress the snicker that escaped her lips. The audacity of Doflamingo to pull such a bold stunt was as impressive as it was dangerous. Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and admiration. Whatever Doflamingo's motives, he had successfully turned the tables, making a mockery of the World Government's pomp and circumstance.
Saturn's piercing gaze shifted to her for a brief moment, his expression hardening further. If this was a calculated play by the Donquixote Family, it was clear that Agana found it entertaining. The Elder clenched his fists behind his back, willing himself to maintain composure. This was not the time to unleash his wrath—at least, not yet.
As the scene played out, Garp's booming laughter broke the tension. "Well, at least this pirate's got taste!" he said, slapping his thigh. "Bwahahahaha…..!!! You're a crazy bastard, Donquixote, but I'll give you credit—you know how to make a guy feel welcome!"
Doflamingo inclined his head slightly, his grin now firmly back in place. "Anything for you, Garp-san."
Behind him, the members of the Donquixote Family smirked, their postures relaxed but their eyes gleaming with understanding. They knew their Master well. This was not just a gesture of respect for Garp; it was a power play, a demonstration that Dressrosa was a stage where Doflamingo called the shots—even with the World Government in attendance.
The atmosphere grew heavier as the implications of Doflamingo's actions began to sink in. Those familiar with the intricate web of power dynamics that governed Dressrosa and its ruler understood immediately: this was no mere act of showmanship. It was a calculated move by the Heavenly Demon to assert his dominance, test the limits of his "guest," and remind everyone who truly held the reins in these waters.
For the core members of the Donquixote Family, however, there was an added layer of significance. Though they would never say it aloud, there was a grudging acknowledgment of the debt their fighting style owed to Monkey D. Garp.
The mighty hero of the Marines, though an enemy, had indirectly shaped their strength. Rosinante had trained under Garp, absorbing his knowledge of Haki and the infamous Rokushiki techniques, then passed those teachings to his family. Doflamingo, ever the strategist, knew this gesture of respect toward Garp would also serve as a subtle taunt to the Elder.
Elder Saturn's expression didn't flicker, but his words were sharp enough to cut steel. "It seems playing pirate all these years has surely dulled your memory of what etiquette entails. Though you are a fallen Celestial Dragon, I expected better grace from you, Doflamingo."
The tension between them became a palpable force. Those nearby shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to breathe too loudly, lest they invite the wrath of either man. Even the Marines, hardened warriors all, were rooted in place, caught between respect for Garp and the growing storm between the pirate and the Elder.
Doflamingo turned slowly, the exaggerated grin on his face fading like the tide receding from a storm-battered shore. In its place came an expression that sent a chill through the hearts of all who saw it—a dangerous, predatory glint in his eyes that promised devastation. The towering Warlord carried himself with a relaxed confidence, yet every fiber of his being radiated menace.
"You should already feel grateful that I allowed you to set foot in my country," Doflamingo said, his voice low and dangerous, carrying the weight of a lion addressing an encroaching hyena.
"After the recent stunt you pulled in my seas, I think I've shown more than enough restraint. And speaking of etiquette..." He let the words hang in the air, his smile returning—a sharp, cruel slash across his face. "How could I forget a welcoming gift?"
With a subtle flick of his wrist, Doflamingo signaled Senor Pink, who stepped forward with silent precision. The perfect gentleman carried a large, ornate chest, its surface decorated with intricate carvings that glimmered faintly in the sunlight. With deliberate care, Senor placed the chest at Elder Saturn's feet, then retreated a few steps, his movements exuding the perfect balance of respect and defiance.
Doflamingo's gaze lingered on Senor for a moment, a brief flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. Perfection, he thought. Now let's see if this undead bastard can match my family's grace.
The Elder's cold gaze shifted to the chest, his face impassive, though the air around him seemed to grow heavier. Even the seasoned Cipher Pol agents flanking him tensed, their instincts screaming that the chest was no mere gesture of goodwill.
"What is this, Donquixote?" Saturn asked, his voice carrying an edge of suspicion.
Doflamingo chuckled, a low, mocking sound that seemed to echo across the pier. "Oh, just a token of my appreciation for the World Government's... unwavering oversight," he said, his tone laced with venom. "Go ahead, Elder Saturn. Open it."
Saturn's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he gave a barely perceptible nod to one of his agents. The man stepped forward cautiously, his movements deliberate as he unlatched the chest. The lid creaked open, revealing its contents.
The atmosphere at the pier turned suffocatingly tense as the Cipher Pol agent's breath hitched at the sight within the ornate chest. He had approached cautiously, fully prepared for whatever symbolic gesture or veiled threat the Donquixote Family might deliver.
But nothing could have prepared him for this. The severed heads of three agents—Aegis operatives whose infiltration had been meticulously planned for months—were neatly arranged inside, their lifeless expressions frozen in grim finality.
Elder Saturn's eyes remained fixed on the gruesome sight, his face an impassive mask of cold fury. Without a word, he turned to the Cipher Pol leader beside him. The operative gave a small, confirming nod.
These were indeed the three agents they had painstakingly embedded into Dressrosa, using the pretext of this very visit to cover their insertion. That they had been discovered and executed so swiftly was a stark testament to the unyielding grip the Donquixote Pirates had over their territory. The message was clear: no one entered Dressrosa without their knowledge—or their permission.
Doflamingo's laugh shattered the silence, a chilling sound that echoed across the pier like the toll of a death knell. "Fufufufu...!" His head tilted slightly as he stepped closer, his towering form radiating menace.
"So tell me, Elder Saturn," he began, his voice deceptively light, "now that you've so graciously spat on my generosity by sending your rats into my territory, should I still honor my word of not harming you during your visit?"
He gestured lazily toward the chest with a gloved hand, his sharp grin widening. "You should understand," he continued, his tone darkening, "the moment they set foot here, the deal was null and void. The fact that I haven't sent you back in pieces already is a testament to my unparalleled patience."
Saturn's expression tightened ever so slightly—a barely perceptible crack in his otherwise impenetrable facade. Internally, however, his mind raced. He had anticipated the possibility of complications, but this... this was a disaster. The agents had been the government's best chance to gather intelligence on Dressrosa's operations. Now, not only were they dead, but Doflamingo had turned their deaths into a public spectacle, seizing control of the narrative in one fell swoop.
Imu-sama's orders were absolute, Saturn thought grimly. The Donquixote brothers must attend the upcoming Reverie. He silently cursed the timing of this encounter. Were it not for those orders, he would never have agreed to this meeting with such a volatile figure.
Back near the Marine contingent, the unease was palpable. Among the group stood Lady Agana, her sharp gaze fixed on the unfolding confrontation.
A world government agent near her, his voice barely a whisper, muttered under his breath, "Why are we even negotiating with these criminals? We could raze this entire country to the ground with the forces we've brought. We've got two Admirals, two Admiral candidates, and the Marine hero himself. What could they possibly do against that?"
Agana's sharp ears caught the remark, and she let out a soft, mocking snort. Turning slightly, she fixed the agent with a withering glare. "Imbecile," she said coldly. "Do you think the World Government would back down if they had the upper hand? No. They've realized that in a direct clash, their victory is far from guaranteed."
The agent hesitated, unnerved by her response but still unconvinced. "But... but Lady Agana," he ventured, his voice faltering, "we have such a strong force here. Surely we could—"
"Enough." Agana's voice was as sharp as a blade, cutting him off mid-sentence. Her gaze drifted beyond the pier, toward the heart of the city. "The others may not sense it, but those with true strength do," she said softly, her tone carrying a note of warning.
Her eyes settled on a balcony in the distance. It overlooked the bustling streets of Dressrosa and appeared unremarkable at first glance, save for the lavish table it held. Seated there, as though enjoying a casual meal, were two figures whose very presence sent a chill down her spine.
One was a striking woman of regal bearing, her sharp beauty tempered by a deadly aura. She was none other than the former Empress of the Kuja, Shakuyaku. Once a Warlord of the Sea, she had defected after her people were threatened, her loyalty now aligned with the Donquixote Family.
Opposite her sat a man whose name still carried weight in the darkest corners of the world—Silvers Rayleigh, the infamous Dark King and former right hand of the Pirate King himself.
Even Elder Saturn's gaze flicked briefly toward the balcony. The faintest shadow of tension crossed his features, visible only to those who knew him well. Rayleigh's presence was a reminder of the volatile power at play here—a legend who could turn the tide of any battle with ease, his strength and experience unmatched by nearly anyone alive.
For a brief moment, Saturn's attention shifted back to Doflamingo, whose grin had only grown wider. The Heavenly Demon had undoubtedly sensed the Elder's momentary distraction, and he reveled in it.
"Now then," Doflamingo said, spreading his arms theatrically, "shall we continue our discussion, or do you need more proof that Dressrosa isn't a place for your petty schemes? After all..." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, his sharp grin becoming a sinister leer. "You're in my kingdom now."