"It's ready."
Doflamingo's discarded clothing from the previous night was once again draped over him by the four barely clothed temple attendants.
"Summon Trebol, Diamante, Enel, Judge, and Caesar."
"Yes, my Lord."
As the four figures disappeared into the distance, Doflamingo found himself momentarily lost in thought. He felt no attachment to these attendants.
First, they were merely a means to satisfy his desires. He was, after all, a man, and the fact that he had resisted until this body's adolescence was impressive enough.
Second, they served to pacify both the Angel Island residents and the remnants of Shandia.
And third—procreation.
Charlotte Linlin, a single woman, had given birth from the age of 18 until her death, producing 85 children. Among them, only Katakuri, Cracker, and Smoothie could be considered top-tier fighters. Even in the New World, barely 20 of them were notable figures. A 25% success rate—not bad.
If he impregnated 300 women a year, even if only one in five conceived, in 20 years, Doflamingo would be a true father of the new generation.
Unfortunately, the plan had hit a snag.
His temple housed 36 attendants, rotating in three shifts. So far, only one had become pregnant.
There was another way to improve the success rate.
Judge had made progress with his bloodline factor research. Applying it to this "son of convenience" could yield promising results. Combined with his own inherited talent, it would ensure future strength.
But he still had remnants of his old-world morals. He couldn't quite bring himself to experiment on infants just yet.
"Doffy/BOSS/Young Master." Five voices called in unison.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Doflamingo turned his gaze to the assembled figures and spoke lightly.
"Take a seat. Trebol, what's the progress on excavating Skypiea's ruins?"
"Well, Doffy, only Birka's ruins have shown any real value. Science Division is overseeing the research."
Trebol, who had been overseeing operations on Skypiea, stepped forward respectfully.
"And the construction and reverse-engineering of the Ark Maxim, Judge?"
"With Enel's help, there are no issues with refining and strengthening the gold. However, we can only create imitations of the core components. Understanding the original mechanisms is still beyond us."
Judge's expression showed a rare moment of shame.
"No matter. Technological progress takes time. We're still young. I heard Sora is pregnant?"
"Yes. I've confirmed it—she's carrying a healthy baby girl. I've already decided on a name: Reiju."
Even Judge, usually composed, softened as he spoke, his face showing traces of warmth.
"A beautiful name."
Doflamingo's smile deepened, an unreadable emotion flickering in his eyes.
If only she had been born a few months earlier, he would've had to pay his respects.
...
Offshore of Angel Island – The Sky Island Worksite
"Damn it, Mont Blanc Cricket! Look at this! A year-long journey, and this is the result?! We're pirates, not laborers!"
Abu hurled a chunk of Island Cloud to the ground in frustration.
"Yeah! This is ridiculous! The gold isn't even ours, and while others rest, we're stuck doing all the work!"
"Hahaha! But doesn't this prove Skypiea exists? Besides, we didn't have the money for the toll, so we're working off our debt." The crew's captain, a man with a chestnut-shaped head, raised his hands in surrender, trying to calm his disgruntled men.
"Plus, I made contact with Shandora's survivors. They agreed to pay our fine—and throw us a welcome feast! You guys don't want to miss that, do you?"
"Ten billion belly?! Who the hell would pay that for us? Stop dreaming—"
"Oi, oi! Cricket! Look over there! What the hell is that?!"
The crew turned their gaze toward the approaching figure.
A towering man, clad in a pristine white suit, a cigar clamped between his teeth, and a flower-shaped propeller spinning atop his head, was making his way toward them.
The air was filled with the incessant buzzing of his flying companions.
"Lahaha! Finally found you lot. Damn it, hiding in a place like this… I haven't had a single moment of rest!"
Aramaki scowled, taking in the sight of the workers toiling on the cloud island.
"Ugh… air's thinner up here than I thought. Oh well, doesn't matter. I don't need to breathe."
His gaze swept over the gathered men before landing on Cricket.
"Lahaha! People of this unknown land, tell me—where is Donquixote Doflamingo?"
He pulled a crumpled portrait from his pocket and held it up, sneering at the laborers before him.
"I only have one target. Cooperate, or as a land without recognized sovereignty, I can slaughter you all without consequence."
Cricket's eyes flickered between the spiral-propellered man and the face in the picture.
Both were trouble.
Best not to make an enemy out of either.
"We were just captured recently ourselves. If you want information, ask that old lady over there."
He gestured toward a nearby lighthouse—the same place where they had registered for their 'employment' yesterday.
"Good. I like cooperative people."
Aramaki's sharp eyes settled on the woman at the lighthouse. Her face was unreadable, but the recording Den Den Mushi in her hand had already been activated.
Under the desk, her finger pressed a hidden emergency switch. Her mind was on high alert.
"I am Amazon, the overseer of this land under the Donquixote name. Are you here for sightseeing—or war?"
"Lahaha! Donquixote? I'm here for war, of course! Doflamingo, a former Celestial Dragon, dares defy the World Government—the one true gods of this world! Everything here belongs to the Celestial Dragons!"
Aramaki laughed mockingly.
"Now, tell me where he is, old woman. And the location of the Seastone mines. If not, as a nation stripped of its rights, I can slaughter thousands—millions—even level this place, and it wouldn't matter."
Amazon nodded. "Understood. He's that way."
…?
The laborers' earlier compliance was understandable. But for Amazon, a native, to cooperate so readily?
Aramaki was momentarily baffled.
No matter. His only targets were Doflamingo and the Seastone mines.
...
Upper Yard – The Divine Palace
"BOSS, we've partially deciphered the energy storage method of Skypiean Dials by cross-referencing the Ark Maxim's blueprints. However, the only applicable technique so far involves converting them into Slash Dials—"
BIBIBIBIBI!
A sharp alarm rang out.
Behind his tinted shades, Trebol's beady eyes narrowed as he pulled out a Den Den Mushi and an accompanying video snail. He pressed play.
"Doffy."
"Heh. Knew the World Government wouldn't play fair. Guess CP9's deaths weren't enough of a warning."
Doflamingo chuckled as he watched the live feed.
"Green Bull, that damn mutt. No wonder he's such a lapdog for the Celestial Dragons—turns out he was CP0. Makes sense. If he's going to be an Admiral in the future, he must be at least at Warlord level now. Maybe stronger."
He turned to his men, smiling brightly.
"Caesar, Judge—I'll visit the lab later for details. You're dismissed for now."
Then, to the others: "Trebol, Diamante, Enel—let's go. Let's give our new friend a proper welcome."
"Yes, BOSS!"
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+145 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg