The three government agents didn't wait another second — they turned and fled faster than startled rabbits.
Sengoku opened his mouth, closed it again, and hesitated as if he wanted to say something but held back.
Finally, he managed to get the words out: "What exactly are they planning?"
Ever since the mission to investigate Grimm's territory had cost Zephyr more than six hundred elite guerrilla troops, he had grown deeply resentful of orders issued directly by the World Government.
Kong had always tried to look out for him, assigning other officers to handle such tasks whenever possible.
But now, to specifically name Zephyr to guard the Heavenly Tribute? What game were they playing?
For his part, Zephyr had also begun to notice things felt off lately.
Not only did Sengoku, Garp, and the rest seem to be hiding something whenever they spoke to him, but his regular medical check‑ups were taking longer and longer to complete.
Worse, every time he went in, they gave him strong sedatives and sleeping agents. He had no medical training himself, but something felt wrong.
He wasn't losing control or going on rampages — why did they need to dose him with so many drugs?
"Please come in for examinations more frequently from now on. We must keep the condition from worsening as quickly as possible."
The words Vegapunk had said kept replaying in his mind. Zephyr tightened his grip on the small vial of sedative he had just been given.
"Admiral Zephyr!"
A Marine captain approached, saluting sharply. "The Fleet Admiral requests your presence — it seems there is a new assignment for you."
Zephyr slipped the vial back into the inner pocket of his coat, nodded, and strode quickly toward the Fleet Admiral's office.
Meanwhile, in the harbor residence on Artemis Island, the heart of Grimm's territory.
"Lord Grimm, Donquixote Doflamingo has arrived." Ul'dah reported from below.
"Some nerve he has, showing his face here." Grimm rested his cheek in one hand.
When they first met, he had found Doflamingo somewhat interesting — now, he barely wanted to lay eyes on him.
Ul'dah hesitated for a moment. "Shall I send him away?"
"Let him stay. I want to hear what this defeated dog has to say for himself." Grimm waved his hand, signaling for him to be brought in.
"Understood."
Ul'dah withdrew, and moments later Doflamingo sauntered in with his characteristic crab‑like stride.
"Doflamingo — what brings you here? I'm curious how much the Gold‑Gold Fruit fetched on the market?"
Before Doflamingo could even open his mouth, Grimm's question struck him like a slap across the face.
A vein throbbed visibly at his temple beneath the frame of his sunglasses.
He knew exactly what Grimm was referring to: the promise to hand over the Gold‑Gold Fruit as a gift, only for an insider to betray them and steal both the fruit and a fortune in gold and valuables mid‑transport.
It was a humiliating blow for the Donquixote Pirates so soon after entering the New World.
Doflamingo had already posted a bounty across the black market, vowing to tear the thieves limb from limb.
But reason prevailed over anger. He tapped the rim of his glasses with one finger and grinned.
"Fufufu… I admit my earlier failure, and I make no excuses. But this time, I've come bearing a very profitable opportunity."
"Profitable?" Grimm raised an eyebrow.
"Indeed. The Heavenly Tribute — the vast fortune collected from more than 170 nations allied with the World Government, drawn from their national treasuries and sent to the Celestial Dragons. We are talking about sums measured in hundreds of billions of Berries."
Doflamingo threw his head back and laughed, then held out his hand in a grasping gesture. "We take it for ourselves."
"Top‑secret information like this… and you managed to get your hands on it?" Grimm replied, though he showed no sign of surprise.
After all, he knew very well this was exactly the kind of scheme Doflamingo had pulled off in the original timeline.
Seeing Grimm remain so calm, Doflamingo could not help but admire his composure — truly worthy of an Emperor.
"Fufufu — I have my sources. There are plenty of desperate men at sea, and the route of the Heavenly Tribute has always been the most closely guarded secret in the world." He walked over to the tall window overlooking the port.
"And how do you intend to split the money once we take it?" Grimm asked, leaning back in his throne.
"Well… I need to keep a portion to fund my own plans. Originally I thought fifty‑fifty, but to make up for what happened with the Gold‑Gold Fruit, I'll settle for forty‑five percent. How does that sound?" Doflamingo turned back to face him.
It seemed like only a small concession, but even half a percent of the Heavenly Tribute — let alone a full five percent — was more than enough to make a man wealthy beyond his wildest dreams for a lifetime.
"Interesting. May the Holy Light bless you, Doflamingo."
The answer was clear enough: he agreed.
"Fufufu… then we have a deal. I'll tell you the transport route…"
In his distinct, high‑pitched tone, Doflamingo described the exact path the convoy would take.
When he finished, Grimm asked, "And the date?"
"Dealing with someone as fearsome as you, I have to protect myself, don't I?" Doflamingo stepped back a safe distance.
"I'll give you the exact timing and location when it gets closer. Wouldn't want you trying to take it all for yourself, now would we? Fufufu…"
True to his reputation as a master schemer, Doflamingo knew better than to lay all his cards on the table.
If he revealed every detail, Grimm would likely simply kill him and seize the entire fortune. By keeping the final piece of information to himself, he ensured he remained useful — and therefore alive.
"And one last piece of information — free of charge." A sharp smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"From inside the Marines: the officer assigned to escort and protect the tribute is none other than Black Arm Zephyr."
With that, Doflamingo turned and left.
Grimm settled back in his throne, turning over the last words in his mind: The escort will be Zephyr.
He recalled Doflamingo's original ambitions — how he had once planned to seize the Heavenly Tribute, claim the title of Warlord, and take control of Dressrosa.
Because of the recent setbacks, he had given up on Dressrosa and now sought to claim another island of similar value.
A few minutes later, Matthew — his face hidden behind an iron mask — stepped into the room, looking unusually grim.
"Lord Grimm, two of our warships patrolling the outer waters have been sunk by Zephyr."
"Zephyr again?" Grimm frowned deeply.
"He was in a rage. Nearly killed every man aboard. He almost broke his own rule of 'never slaying an Admiral‑ranked officer' in the process." Matthew explained.
Grimm fell silent. Seeing the heavy atmosphere, Matthew quickly added, "There is another strange matter. Reports say someone spotted Zephyr near Marine Base G‑2 in the first half of the Grand Line. But his guerrilla forces almost always operate deep in the New World. Could he have found a way to split himself? Or is the intelligence simply wrong?"
"Is that so… now this is interesting." Grimm narrowed his eyes, more questions rising in his mind.
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