Fire gives everything in the world its own scent.
A sheet of white paper doesn't burn like a damp tree branch. The smell of roasted boar isn't far from that of roasted human flesh. But 10-year-old Donquixote Doflamingo hadn't tasted meat in a long time.
Flames blazed before his eyes, turning the dark night sky a searing red.
Shouts, curses, shrieks, howls, hate, rage, scorn—the sound of crumbling, fire-split walls snapped him awake, as a wave of fury washed past his ears.
His eyes were blindfolded, body tied to the city wall like a criminal sentenced to death.
"It's the Celestial Dragons!"
"Don't kill them! Let them live through hell!"
Countless townspeople gathered beneath the fortress, screaming in hatred at the Donquixote family strung up on the wall. Rocks, rotting vegetables, rancid eggs, and all manner of garbage flew at them like a torrential storm.
Doflamingo felt something wet and sticky splatter against his cheek and slide downward.
He heard his father weeping.
How ironic... Father.
You gave up your divine birthright as a Celestial Dragon, thinking it would show mercy and compassion. You believed you could live peacefully among the commoners.
But did you see what they really are?
No, your eyes are blindfolded too. You can't see—but you can hear them, can't you?
Their greedy panting. Their savage laughter. Their frenzied hunger.
Father!! These are the people you wanted to embrace!!
Did they thank you?
No!!
All they saw was a god fallen from his throne.
This is the essence of humanity. Their stupidity. Their wretched nature.
Who could resist the urge to trample a god in the dirt?
They wanted to spit on him. To stomp him into the ground.
Are you crying?
...What use is crying now?
Doflamingo wanted to laugh.
Flames licked higher. The burning heat seared the walls.
He smelled roasted flesh.
His feet were nearly cooked.
The jeers went on.
Rotten garbage rained from every direction.
Two streaks of blood-tears slid from beneath his blindfold. Hearing the endless hatred, he couldn't help but burst into mad laughter.
"hehahaha!!"
He clenched his fists.
"Remember this, all of you..."
"I'm not going to die..."
A bloody grin stretched across his beaten face.
That was his pride.
The crowd flinched.
Torturing a Celestial Dragon had been thrilling—but deep inside, they were still afraid.
"No matter what you do to me... I'll survive!!"
Doflamingo raised his head. Though tied up, his contemptuous gaze looked down upon them all.
They might watch him burn alive. But they'd never see him beg.
He was a Celestial Dragon.
The greatest beings in the world!
Inside, Doflamingo screamed in fury. His grin widened with defiance.
"And I'll kill you all."
"Every last one."
---
Scene shift.
A filthy room, full of garbage and broken furniture.
Flies buzzed. Sunlight couldn't reach into the damp, moldy walls.
A hand, clutching his own, slowly went limp.
Doflamingo stared at his unmoving mother. His eyes lost focus.
Rosinante sobbed beside him.
"I'm sorry, Doffy."
His father sat by the bedside, red-eyed, gaunt, and hollow.
"Sorry?"
Doflamingo suddenly laughed.
Laughed like a madman.
Tears flowed from his eyes.
"It's all your fault, ... all your fault!!"
He laughed hysterically and drew a pistol.
Aimed it at his own father.
"If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have died."
"If it weren't for you, we'd still be living happily."
"If it weren't for you, I'd still be a Celestial Dragon!!"
Donquixote Homing looked terrified at first, then gave a gentle, resigned smile.
Bang.
A gunshot.
The Celestial Dragon fell. Blood pooled.
"I'm sorry, Doffy..."
He whispered.
Through his blurry, blood-soaked vision,
He saw his own son—laughing and crying.
---
Another flash.
Under a sky filled with silence and pressure,
A golden-haired child climbed the sacred Heavenly Staircase, carrying a blood-dripping head.
His father's face, still warm with a soft smile.
He reached the top. There stood five old men, looking down like gods.
'This should be my life,' Doflamingo told himself.
He held up his father's head.
"I want to be a Celestial Dragon again."
But the five elders sneered.
"The Donquixote family are traitors."
"You are not welcome in the Holy Land."
"Get out."
"You are no longer a Celestial Dragon."
"And clean up the stairs."
---
Doflamingo did clean the stairs.
Then boarded a merchant ship and fled to the North Blue like a stray dog.
Some thugs found him.
They knelt before him.
"Listen, Doffy. You are a king."
"No one is allowed to defy you."
"One day, you'll rule these seas."
Yes. I am a king.
One day, I will rule the seas.
"I am Donquixote Doflamingo! I will be king of this sea!"
"The World Government, the Gorosei, the Celestial Dragons—I will destroy it all!!"
"I will—"
SMACK!
A sharp slap snapped Doflamingo awake.
His face burned.
No—his whole body burned.
He blinked, dazed.
"Sorry to interrupt your dreams," came a low voice, "But you were getting loud."
Doflamingo looked up and saw a black-haired Marine, legs crossed, smoking a lit cigar, shrugging casually.
Rogers Darren.
---
To be continued...