The Holy Land, Mary Geoise.
Queen Stussy's private residence was a study in understated luxury. Thick carpets muffled footsteps, and the walls were adorned with tasteful artwork that didn't quite scream "I work for the World Government's secret police." The kind of place where important people could meet without raising eyebrows.
Finn emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing behind him. He'd wrapped himself in one of Stussy's bathrobes, white silk that probably cost more than a month's salary for most Marines. His hair was still damp, water droplets occasionally sliding down his neck.
He'd barely taken two steps toward the sitting room when Stussy's voice called out from the bathroom.
"Could you get me a fresh set of pajamas?"
Finn paused, turning to see her head peeking around the doorframe. Her expression was carefully neutral, but there was color in her cheeks.
"Why do you need a new one?" he asked innocently.
Stussy's eyes narrowed dangerously. The color in her cheeks deepened. "Because someone tore the last pair to shreds. Don't you dare play dumb with me."
"Hahahaha..." Finn rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "Right. I forgot. My bad."
He quickly retreated to the bedroom, rifling through Stussy's wardrobe until he found something appropriate. When he returned and handed the garment through the bathroom door, she snatched it from his hands with an indignant huff.
Finn made his way to the sitting room, settling onto the sofa. He reached for the Den Den Mushi on the side table, dialing a number he'd long since memorized.
The signal traveled across the Grand Line, bouncing through relay stations until it reached its destination somewhere in the North Blue.
Far from Mary Geoise, in a desolate stretch of the North Blue where shipping lanes rarely ventured, a pirate ship bearing the Donquixote Family flag drifted on calm waters.
The ship was distinctive, styled after its captain's namesake, though the flamingo motif seemed almost whimsical compared to the vessel's actual purpose. Ever since stealing the Heavenly Tribute, Doflamingo had kept his fleet hidden in these remote waters, waiting for word from Mary Geoise.
On the surface, he appeared relaxed. Doflamingo lounged on a deck chair beneath an awning, a glass of red wine in one hand, expensive sunglasses perched on his nose. The very picture of a man without a care in the world.
The reality was somewhat different.
Internally, Doflamingo was calculating odds and running scenarios. He'd made his play, robbed the World Government's most sacred cash flow, and offered them half a trillion berries to let him walk. It should work. The Five Elders were pragmatic when it came to money, especially with Mary Geoise still rebuilding.
But "should work" and "definitely works" were two very different things.
Until the official confirmation came, he had to consider the possibility that a CP-0 assassination team might drop from the sky. Or worse, that one of the Marine Admirals would arrive to collect his head personally.
He took another sip of wine, letting the liquid rest on his tongue. Adding another contingency plan might be prudent. Maybe positioning family members at key locations, ready to scatter if things went sideways. Or perhaps...
The Den Den Mushi on the table beside him began to ring.
Doflamingo's head snapped toward the sound, his entire body tensing. Then he saw which line was calling, and a grin split his face.
He snatched up the receiver. "Admiral Finn? Calling at this hour must mean you have good news for me, fufufu."
"You're braver than I gave you credit for, Doflamingo." Finn's voice carried a note of genuine amusement. "I thought you were just posturing, but you actually went through with it. Swallowed the entire North Blue Heavenly Tribute in one bite..."
The tone. That easy, conversational tone. Doflamingo felt tension bleed from his shoulders.
It was done. It had to be done.
"I simply followed your excellent guidance, Admiral," Doflamingo replied smoothly. "Though I must admit, handing over five hundred billion berries to those old men hurt a bit. Fufufufu."
Finn didn't waste time on pleasantries. After a brief pause, his voice shifted, becoming more businesslike. "Two things."
Doflamingo straightened in his chair immediately, setting his wine glass aside. That tone meant orders. "I'm listening."
"First, start preparing immediately. I've dispatched Vice Admiral Doberman from Marine Headquarters to the North Blue. His orders are to locate the Donquixote Family and recover the Heavenly Tribute. You'll engage his forces, put up a symbolic fight, then hand over the gold. After that, sit tight and wait for my next communication."
Doflamingo's jaw tightened.
The instruction made sense from a political standpoint. The World Government needed to save face. They couldn't simply let a pirate rob them and walk away, even if they'd accepted his bribe. There had to be a show of force, a "recovery operation" that the newspapers could report.
But it also put Doflamingo in a vulnerable position.
What if this was a trap? What if he handed over the Heavenly Tribute, and then the Marines simply sank him? Doberman alone wasn't a threat, but who was to say Doberman would be alone? If someone like Gion or Sakazuki was lurking nearby, ready to strike the moment the gold changed hands...
Before Doflamingo could voice these concerns, Finn continued.
"Second, after you receive the Warlord appointment, stay in the North Blue. Don't go wandering. I know you have plans and ambitions, but until I've finished dealing with this New World situation, you stay put. If you start causing problems before I'm ready, don't expect me to be gentle. Understood?"
The second instruction was blunt. Almost threatening.
But Doflamingo's grin widened.
Because the subtext was clear: after you receive the Warlord appointment.
It was done. The position was his.
Doflamingo had built an empire on calculated risks. He'd gambled his life more times than he could count, and he'd survived because he knew when to be cautious and when to be bold.
This was a moment for boldness.
Finn had given him no guarantees. No written confirmation, no official letter of appointment. Just verbal instructions over a Den Den Mushi that could be denied later if convenient.
But Doflamingo understood the game being played. This was a test. Finn wanted to see if he would trust him, if he would demonstrate loyalty without requiring proof or insurance.
The smart move, the cautious move, would be to demand something concrete. A letter bearing Fleet Admiral Sengoku's seal, perhaps. Or at minimum a more explicit confirmation that the Warlord position was genuinely his.
But Doflamingo hadn't become one of the North Blue's most feared figures by always playing it safe.
If he demanded proof, he'd demonstrate weakness. Doubt. A transactional mindset that would mark him as just another pirate trying to leverage the system.
But if he simply agreed, showed complete trust despite the risk... that would strengthen his relationship with Finn. Create the foundation for something more valuable than any single deal.
The calculation took perhaps two seconds.
Doflamingo made his choice.
"Do you understand?" Finn asked into the silence.
"No problem," Doflamingo replied immediately, his voice carrying absolute certainty. "I'll follow your instructions exactly, Admiral."
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
Then Finn started laughing. It began as a chuckle, then grew louder, more genuine. "Hahahahahaha!"
Doflamingo waited, his grin never faltering.
"Hahahahahaha!" Finn's laughter continued for several seconds before finally tapering off. When he spoke again, his tone had shifted to something almost... approving. "Young Master, I have to say, I'm impressed. You continue to exceed my expectations."
"The honor is mine, Admiral," Doflamingo said, and he meant it.
"Be a good Warlord from now on," Finn instructed. Then, after a brief pause, he asked something unexpected. "Do you really plan to remain a pirate for the rest of your life?"
Doflamingo froze.
The question hung in the air between them, loaded with implications.
Slowly, a wry smile spread across Doflamingo's face. "Back then," he said quietly, "I had no choice."
Sea Circle Calendar 1500.
Loguetown, East Blue.
The day Gol D. Roger died.
Doflamingo had stood in that crowd, anonymous behind his sunglasses, and watched history unfold. He'd seen Roger walk to the execution platform like a king ascending his throne. He'd heard those final words that would reshape the world.
"You want my treasure? You can have it! I left everything I gathered together in one place. Now you just have to find it!"
The roar of the crowd. The wave of ambition and greed that swept across the plaza like a physical force. The birth of a new era, crystallizing in a single moment.
Doflamingo had understood immediately what Roger had done. The Pirate King hadn't simply died. He'd opened a door, unleashed forces that would reshape the balance of power across the seas.
Before that day, Doflamingo had run a sophisticated criminal enterprise in the North Blue. Weapons trafficking, information brokerage, protection rackets. It was profitable, but it had limitations. Given his background, given his goals, it would never be enough to achieve true revenge against those who'd wronged him.
He'd been considering a pivot. Some kind of transformation that would give him access to greater power. But the path forward had been unclear.
Then Roger died, and suddenly everything clicked into place.
If Doflamingo wanted revenge against Mary Geoise, against the Celestial Dragons who'd cast out his family and left them to suffer, he needed leverage. Real power. The kind that came from riding the crest of historical change.
The Great Pirate Era was that change.
The very next day, Doflamingo had raised the Jolly Roger and declared himself a pirate. No hesitation, no second-guessing. When he saw an opportunity, he took it.
His family had started calling him the Heavenly Yaksha. The title fit.
But as time passed, Doflamingo had started to notice... problems.
The New World was a quagmire. The Four Emperors dominated it so completely that establishing a real foothold seemed impossible. So he'd focused on business instead, building networks while keeping his actual presence minimal.
More troubling was the growing realization that the Great Pirate Era, for all its chaos and violence, hadn't actually weakened the World Government the way he'd hoped. If anything, the threat had unified their response, given them justification for expanded military budgets and harsher crackdowns.
Then he'd encountered Finn.
At first, the Admiral had seemed like just another obstacle. Someone to avoid or manipulate as necessary. But over time, through their interactions and through intelligence Vergo provided, Doflamingo had started to suspect something was fundamentally wrong with the Marines.
Not wrong in the sense of corrupt or incompetent. Wrong in the sense of... misaligned. Operating according to a different agenda than the one they publicly claimed.
Finn had seen through Vergo immediately, but he'd only restricted Vergo's access to Calm Belt operations. Everything else? Vergo could still observe and report on. It was almost as if Finn didn't care, or even wanted Doflamingo to know certain things.
The information Vergo passed along had painted a disturbing picture. The Marines were preparing for something. Building toward some objective that had nothing to do with serving the World Government.
And at the center of it all was Finn.
Finn, who'd orchestrated Roger's surrender. Finn, who'd captured Shanks. Finn, who'd built the Warlord system into a tool for Marine control rather than World Government oversight. Finn, who somehow commanded absolute loyalty from his subordinates while maintaining the image of a violent, justice-obsessed enforcer.
When Doflamingo had mentioned stealing the Heavenly Tribute during their last meeting, he'd been testing Finn. Watching for any reaction that would indicate the Admiral still held reverence for Mary Geoise.
There had been nothing. No shock, no anger, no concern. Just calm calculation.
That's when Doflamingo had known for certain. Finn didn't serve the World Government. Not really. He was building something else, using the Marine structure as a foundation.
The question was what, and whether Doflamingo could find a place in those plans.
Now, with Finn asking whether he truly wanted to remain a pirate forever...
"I had no choice back then," Doflamingo repeated, his voice carefully measured. The subtext was clear: But do I have a choice now?
Finn's laugh came through the Den Den Mushi, warm and knowing. "Hahaha. You're about to become a legal pirate, Doflamingo, but that doesn't mean you should embarrass the Marines. Keep your operations clean. Avoid the brutal, senseless violence that gives pirates their reputation. Work within the boundaries of what's 'reasonable and legal,' or at least within the unspoken rules. Because if you do that... you might find yourself with another choice someday."
Doflamingo's eyes widened slightly behind his sunglasses.
The message was crystal clear.
Don't be too evil. Don't commit atrocities that would make it impossible for Finn to publicly associate with him. Maintain deniability. Keep his hands clean enough that when the time came, there would be a path to... what? Redemption? Recruitment?
Doflamingo thought back over his recent activities. Despite flying a pirate flag, he'd deliberately avoided the worst excesses of piracy. No civilian massacres. No slavery beyond what was already legal in the World Government's territories. Just black market trade, weapons dealing, information brokerage.
Criminal, yes. But the kind of criminal that could be reframed as "necessary evil" or "intelligence asset" if the narrative needed to shift.
And if he maintained that standard going forward, proving his value to Finn while avoiding irredeemable actions...
Maybe there really would be another choice.
Maybe he could clean up his image. Join whatever Finn was building. Actually achieve the revenge he'd spent his entire adult life pursuing.
"Thank you for your guidance and teachings, Admiral," Doflamingo said, his voice absolutely sincere. "I won't forget this."