Zephyr did not hesitate to expose the greatest scandal surrounding a former Navy Admiral—an event long erased from public record by the World Government—in front of his two students. Naturally, it wasn't out of any personal grudge against Kong, nor because he enjoyed speaking ill of others behind their backs.
In fact, as a former admiral himself, every time he spoke of how the Navy's top commander had been defeated by a pirate, it filled him with bitter shame.
If he had the choice, Zephyr would rather remain silent.
But Rosen needed to learn from history.
He needed to understand—truly understand—the name Patrick Redfield.
A man who had defeated a former Fleet Admiral of the Navy.
This was the weight behind the title "Aloof Red."
Even if Kong Kong's strength paled in comparison to Sengoku or Akainu, he was still the Fleet Admiral of the Navy. No matter how weak, that title alone held incredible weight.
Think about it from another angle.
Even with Kong's luck—so absurdly strong it might as well have been plot armor—Redfield had still knocked him flat, leaving him broken in body and shaken in will.
That alone proved how terrifying Aloof Red had been in his prime.
"The weight of Aloof Red, huh?"
"What a pity."
"If only I had come to this world a few years earlier. Now, it's unlikely I'll witness Redfield at his peak."
Rosen picked up the teacup on the table, leaned back into the sofa, and took a quiet sip.
The environment in Impel Down's Level 6—Infinite Hell—was horrid beyond belief. The food rations were barely enough to keep prisoners alive. Just enough to keep them from dying of hunger or thirst.
And Redfield wasn't even a Devil Fruit user.
To imprison such a monster, his cell was lined with pure Seastone. His cuffs and shackles were forged from Seastone. His limbs are tightly bound in chains of the same.
This hellish, pitch-black imprisonment had lasted more than ten years.
Redfield was a mere human—no Haki Refining, no demon bloodline, no magical resilience. What he trained in was Haki, not magic. He wasn't like Rosen, who had created the Rokugan Rebirth (Six-Organ Rebirth) method and could push his body to function indefinitely near its peak.
He did not grow stronger with age. Quite the opposite.
The longer Aloof Red stayed in Impel Down, the more his strength waned.
Be it physical prowess, swordsmanship, or Haki—all of it inevitably deteriorated.
"Even after being locked up for so many years, Redfield isn't what he once was… But defeating any one of the Four Yonkos' lieutenants? That should still be no problem."
Zephyr spoke each word carefully.
"Stronger than the Yonko's lieutenants?"
"Now I'm intrigued."
Rosen nodded slightly, a flicker of anticipation gleaming in his eyes.
In the Grand Line, the Seven Warlords of the Sea existed to counterbalance the Four Yonkos.
In the New World, the Four Yonkos themselves ruled, but one of them—Red-Haired Shanks—was not a pirate of the new generation.
He was a living legend, born in the same era as Whitebeard, Kaido, and Big Mom. One of the last giants of that age.
Otherwise, Zephyr would never have said Redfield, even in his weakened state, could still defeat any of the Four Yonkos' lieutenants.
After all, Benn Beckman was a man considered to be on par with Shanks himself.
But even so, Rosen remained deeply curious about the legendary Aloof Red.
In the days that followed—
Zephyr ceased all interference in Rosen's training. He made no more plans, offered no more modifications. Like Borsalino, he simply stood at the sidelines as a deterrent to potential riots.
Rosen, meanwhile, continued his regimen without change:
Morning check-in to Infinite Hell.
Noon Refining.
Afternoon law construction.
And whatever free time remained was his own.
The only change—
Was the number of prisoners.
Each day, one more was added.
…
Day by day, time passed. With each new sunrise, Rosen checked in again to Infinite Hell—and each day, the number of prisoners he faced increased.
Some prisoners, when released, refused to fight Rosen and tried instead to escape amidst the chaos.
But they had no idea.
The entrance and exit of Infinite Hell were guarded by none other than Zephyr and Borsalino. Strict orders had been issued: no prisoner was permitted to leave.
Soon—
Some of the weaker inmates began trying to break through the prison walls themselves.
And this time, Shiryu—who'd been standing on the sidelines eating melon seeds for days—finally acted.
After all, he was still Impel Down's Chief Warden.
When prisoners tried to destroy the very prison he was supposed to guard, whether for face, duty, or personal safety, he could no longer stand idle.
And so—
After countless failed escape attempts, the prisoners in Infinite Hell finally understood one truth:
If they didn't try to escape, they'd only face Rosen.
Even if they all ganged up on him—Zephyr, Borsalino, and Shiryu would not interfere.
But the moment they tried to flee—
They'd face the wrath of all three.
Zephyr, the former admiral.
Borsalino, the admiral-in-waiting.
Shiryu, the Chief Warden.
So the decision was easy.
Fight Rosen.
Because running meant certain death.
If they didn't run, they could at least try to take someone down with them.
This became the unspoken rule among all the prisoners of Level 6.
…
Brrrr brrrr—
In the Fleet Admiral's office, Sengoku picked up the Den Den Mushi ringing incessantly beside his desk.
"This is Fleet Admiral Sengoku."
"Admiral—bad news!"
"The fleet transporting the Heavenly Tribute has been intercepted by Donquixote Doflamingo!"
As soon as the line connected, a panicked voice came through.
"What?!"
"Doflamingo?"
"That bastard—he actually dared to go that far?!"
Sengoku's expression twisted.
There weren't many things in this world that could shake a man like Sengoku.
If there was, it meant it involved one of the world's most powerful figures.
And this—was one of them.
Because it involved the Celestial Dragons.
The World Government.
And the balance of world power.
"Fleet Admiral—"
"After hijacking the Heavenly Tribute, Doflamingo sent a request to HQ via the North Blue branch office."
"He said, if the Navy grants his request, he'll return the Tribute."
"If not—"
The reporting officer hesitated. He seemed terrified to finish the sentence.
"Speak."
Sengoku's tone was now composed, calm like the still ocean before a storm.
"Doflamingo is demanding the title of Shichibukai."
"If HQ refuses—then for the next few days, he says he'll make it a game to intercept every single ship transporting Heavenly Tribute."
"Those… were his exact words."
The officer on the other end of the line dared not breathe, awaiting a thunderous outburst from the Fleet Admiral.
But to his surprise—
Sengoku's response was calm.
"I understand."
"Keep monitoring Doflamingo's actions."
Click.
The call ended.
"Alalalalala…"
"Even dares to rob the Heavenly Tribute, huh?"
"That guy's got guts."
"The so-called King of the North Blue."
On the nearby couch, Kuzan lifted his sleep mask and sat up, yawning.
The "King of the North Blue"—a title that naturally referred to Donquixote Doflamingo.
Unlike most pirates who only knew how to plunder or carve out territory—
The Donquixote Pirates were different.
They didn't just seize land. They operated in the shadows.
They bribed officials.
Manipulated merchants.
Ran underground arms deals.
Sold drugs.
Even trafficked slaves to the nobility.
Their influence in the North Blue had long surpassed even that of Germa 66.
Thus—
Donquixote Doflamingo was crowned with a new title:
The King of the North Blue.
...
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