Out in the gathering hall, the Donquixote Family officers slowly calmed themselves after Doflamingo spoke.
"I just remembered," Señor Pink said, adjusting his sunglasses, pacifier bobbing. "When Lao G was acting strange, a strange pattern appeared on his forehead. Now it's gone—and he's back to normal. Maybe that's the sign of Hueco Mundo's control… or the condition for it."
Trebol's snot-bubble trembled as his eyes lit with false insight.
"Then the control must have a time limit! Once it runs out, the pattern fades and the effect disappears."
"Could be," several officers nodded in agreement.
(Inside Little Gold's inner chamber…)
"Did you hear that, Robin?" Yan said softly. "Remember it. Next time you use Brujería, you could deliberately create such an illusion. Let the enemy relax, then strike for real."
"Yes, brother Yahn," Robin answered with a nod.
---
"But the most important question is still this—what actually triggers the control?" Diamante frowned.
"Normally, Devil Fruit powers that manipulate people require physical contact. But there's no trace of outsiders here. We're in an open courtyard, only family members present. No one could have approached Lao G unnoticed. So if it wasn't touch, then…"
He paused, eyes narrowing on Lao G.
"Think carefully. Did you feel anything unusual in that moment?"
"Unusual?" Lao G muttered. His wrinkled brow furrowed deeply—then his eyes widened.
"I remember! A gaze!"
"What?!" several officers shouted at once.
"Yes!" Lao G insisted. "I felt a strange gaze upon me… and the next thing I knew, I was back in myself—with Diamante's blade through my chest."
A gaze?
The room fell silent.
Compared to Doflamingo's threads, which could control people through direct, visible strings, an ability that enslaved through sight alone seemed utterly… unbeatable.
"If they can control us just by looking, how do we defend against that?!" Trebol wailed. "That's a completely broken power!"
"Not necessarily," Diamante countered, raising a finger. "We didn't see any suspicious figures within line of sight. How could it be gaze alone—"
"Unless," Señor Pink interrupted smoothly, pushing up his shades, "the gaze doesn't need to be direct. Maybe it can be passed along indirectly."
He spoke slowly, laying out the thought:
"What if Hueco Mundo's agents first seized control of low-level grunts on the perimeter? Then, through those grunts' eyes, they controlled us—the officers. And through our eyes, they seized Lao G, forcing him to speak."
He snapped his pacifier with a click and concluded:
"Step by step, chain by chain. That would explain both Lao G's possession and how the enemy broke past our guards to appear suddenly in the family's heart."
His words dropped the temperature of the entire hall.
Even if the ability had traces, it was still nearly impossible to counter. The true puppeteer could be anywhere—forever hidden.
(Inside Little Gold…)
Yahn frowned. "That level of power shouldn't be possible…" Still, he glanced at Robin, his tone mixed with expectation. "But you heard him. Keep pushing yourself. Don't let the enemy think little of you."
"I… I'll try," Robin answered softly, lacking confidence.
---
Diamante eventually shook his head. "No. If that's true, then how do we explain the forehead mark? Or the time limit? Those don't fit."
Señor Pink only smirked. "That… I haven't figured out yet."
"Then stop running your mouth, damn it!!" several officers shouted, exasperated.
"Enough."
Doflamingo exhaled, his calm voice cutting through the rising noise.
"We don't have enough intel. Speculation won't get us anywhere. What matters now is ensuring none of us are under control at this very moment."
Diamante suggested, "We could check the forehead mark."
"No," another officer, Machvise, shook his head. "That might just be a trick. I say we make them curse their so-called 'Hueco Mundo Lord.' After all, none of us would ever insult our Young Master. If they're being controlled, they won't dare say it."
Señor Pink added, "Or maybe it's pain that breaks the control. Lao G came back to his senses right after being stabbed."
Trebol finally spoke up, "Why not combine all three?"
Doflamingo's sunglasses glinted as he smiled thinly. "Fine. Let's test it."
---
And so, under their king's command, the Donquixote officers carried out a bizarre ritual—like zealots in some twisted cult.
One by one, they washed their foreheads with water. Then, in unison, they shouted:
"The Lord of Hueco Mundo is an ugly bastard!"
Immediately after, they each drew knives and stabbed themselves once in the torso.
Shhhh…
Blood trickled, but with their hardened bodies, the wounds quickly closed.
Yet none of them showed signs of waking from any hidden control.
Doflamingo's eyes, hidden behind his shades, flickered with disappointment.
Nothing had been proven. No weakness had been found. The enemy's methods remained wrapped in veils of mist.
Hueco Mundo remained unknowable. Unfathomable.
At that moment, Doflamingo weighed the warning of the so-called Hueco Lord with newfound gravity—
The warning of annihilation.
If within a single day they failed to uncover any trace of this shadowy organization, then perhaps… perhaps it truly had the power to erase the Donquixote Family from existence.
And such an end—Doflamingo would never accept.
---
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