Doflamingo stared at the Gorosei's guard kneeling before him, the grin on his face stiffening for an instant.
Trust? From the Gorosei? In him?
One look at the CP0 agent's solemn composure and Doflamingo nearly laughed outright.
That might fool someone else. It wouldn't fool him—not anymore.
"So those five old geezers 'trust' me," he drawled. "They're even putting me in a position to supervise CP0 now."
His tone sharpened a fraction. "And what about Saint Warcury? This is his jurisdiction. Doesn't he object?"
The agent answered at once, voice even. "This order comes from Saint Warcury himself."
Doflamingo's eyes narrowed. He studied the kneeling man for a long moment, searching for the smallest crack, the faintest hesitation.
Then a slow smile crept back onto his face.
"Heh heh heh… Fine. Tell the old geezers I'll handle it."
"Understood, Lord Doflamingo."
The agent remained bowed.
And then he was simply gone—no sound, no disturbance, as if he'd never been there.
Doflamingo stood in silence, staring out through the window over the Holy Land of Mary Geoise: serene, opulent, obedient. Not far away, behind the ornate facades of the Land of the Gods, the Celestial Dragons in their Western-style mansions occasionally cast toward his residence glances that were curious, suspicious, and—beneath it all—contemptuous.
The smile on Doflamingo's lips cooled into ice.
"Clever, you old geezers," he murmured. "In public, you preach cooperation and trust with that woman… and in private, you order me to watch her every breath."
A low laugh spilled from him, rising fast, shaking loose into a roar. He covered his face with one hand, head tipped back, shoulders trembling.
"Heh heh heh… Brilliant. Truly brilliant!"
"What's got you so amused, Doffy?"
The voice came out of nowhere—deep, abrupt, too close.
Doflamingo's pupils contracted. He spun.
A figure sat on the sofa as if it belonged there.
"You…" Doflamingo's breath caught. "You actually infiltrated the Holy Land Mary Geoise?"
Darren lounged on the luxurious leather like he'd been invited, one leg crossed over the other, black hair neat, expression calm.
"You've really come into your own," he said mildly. "Reclaimed your Celestial Dragon status… and now you've even stopped calling me Godfather?"
His tone was almost playful as his eyes settled on Doflamingo.
Doflamingo's expression flickered. A muscle twitched at his temple.
Darren looked relaxed—too relaxed. His right hand tapped the sofa's armrest in an idle rhythm, as if he were bored.
But that rhythm made something in Doflamingo's blood run cold.
Every tap landed exactly with his heartbeat.
And when his pulse sped up—when panic crept in—the tapping sped up with it, perfectly, mercilessly, as though that single finger were dictating the tempo of his life.
If that finger stopped…
Would his heart stop too?
His Haki stirred on instinct, surging toward his chest—
—and he forced it down.
Haki could defend against anything, in theory. If you were strong enough.
But who knew what Darren's Haki had become?
In that moment, Doflamingo didn't dare bet his life on theory.
One brutal fact had already stripped him bare: if Darren hadn't spoken, Doflamingo would never have realized he was here.
Which meant that if Darren had wanted him dead, Doflamingo would have had no chance to evade, no chance to defend. He might as well have been dead already.
The pride he'd been wearing—the pride of a man about to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Gorosei as Vice Commander of the Knights of God—evaporated in an instant.
Darren rose from the sofa with easy, unhurried motion, as immovable as a mountain and just as suffocating. The room seemed smaller with him standing.
Doflamingo drew a slow breath, forced his mouth into a smile, and spoke carefully.
"I was only surprised by your sudden arrival, Godfather. It took me a moment to react."
By the final word, his voice had dropped, rougher than he meant it to.
Darren's smile warmed, almost gentle.
"Just teasing you, Doffy. You're my godson, after all. I'll always be patient with you."
His voice stayed soft, almost fond.
"No matter what foolish things you've done, I'll always forgive you, child."
Doflamingo froze.
Before he could answer, Darren waved a hand as if brushing the moment away and began looking around the mansion with open amusement, clicking his tongue.
"This place is impressive. Those five old geezers really spared no expense trying to win you over." He glanced around again. "Honestly? It's better than what most Celestial Dragons live in."
He reached for the glass humidor on the coffee table, selected a cigar with casual familiarity, bit off the tip, and lit it. The flame caught, and his grin returned.
"Oh—and I saw your statue on the Stairway to Heaven." Smoke curled as he spoke. "Very spirited. Very imposing."
Doflamingo's lips tightened. With Darren praising him so plainly, he found himself without an immediate response.
"No need to be nervous," Darren said with a chuckle.
He stepped in and clapped Doflamingo on the shoulder—firm, controlled, as if reminding him exactly how easily that shoulder could be crushed.
Then Darren strode to the liquor cabinet, took out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, and poured with the ease of a man at home.
He handed one glass to Doflamingo, then swirled his own, studying him over the rim. The boy had gotten taller—nearly six feet now. Broadening. Growing into his bones.
Darren looked satisfied.
"Doffy," he said quietly, "you've really grown up."
Doflamingo held his glass, the ice clinking once. His eyes flashed behind his sunglasses.
"Godfather," he asked, voice careful, "what brings you here?"
Darren chuckled as if the answer were obvious.
"This is your housewarming. And a milestone in your career. As your Godfather, I had to be here to see it with my own eyes."
He lifted his glass.
"Congratulations, Doffy… on becoming Vice Commander of the Knights of God. You finally got the dream you've been chasing since you were a child."
He paused, letting the words settle, and his smile sharpened—curious, testing.
"How does it feel?"
"Power. Wealth. Status. The right to stand above tens of thousands." His tone was calm, almost indulgent. "Everything you wanted."
"And now, through your own efforts, you've taken it all back."
He tipped his glass slightly, eyes steady on Doflamingo.
"How does it feel?"
To be continued...