Spider Miles. A heavily industrialized port city located deep within the North Blue, serving as the absolute central stronghold and operational headquarters for the infamous Donquixote Family.
Currently, inside the sprawling, dimly lit central conference room of the family's base, almost every single high-ranking Executive and core member of the Donquixote Pirates had gathered. The atmosphere in the room was incredibly suffocating.
Their 'Young Master', Donquixote Doflamingo, was furious.
He felt deeply, profoundly provoked. One of his subordinate pirate ships had been violently sunk on the open sea, and absolutely every single crew member had perished. If the family didn't enforce a strict, mandatory scheduled check-in system for all affiliated ships, he might not have discovered the loss for weeks.
This blatant attack infuriated Doflamingo, who had recently been shifting his primary strategic focus toward the Grand Line. He genuinely believed that his absolute dominance over the North Blue had already been firmly established; he assumed no one here possessed the sheer audacity to pluck the tiger's whiskers.
After all, in the current North Blue ecosystem, the Donquixote Family's massive underworld syndicate was practically untouchable. Outside of a direct raid by Marine Headquarters, not even the militaristic Germa 66 actively sought to provoke them in a full-scale conflict.
Doflamingo sat cross-legged directly on top of the massive conference table. He wore his signature sharp sunglasses, a wildly flamboyant pink feathered coat draped over his shoulders, cropped trousers, and sharply pointed shoes. Both his eccentric attire and his highly arrogant posture perfectly embodied his title: the 'Heavenly Yaksha' and the absolute pinnacle of the Underworld's 'Sea Thugs'.
Years ago, Doflamingo had actually possessed immaculate, high-class taste, often wearing impeccably tailored, dark mobster suits. However, ever since the traumatic, deeply personal execution of his biological brother, Donquixote Rosinante (Corazon), his psychological state and aesthetic choices had violently shifted into his current, wildly chaotic style.
"Fuffuffuffuffu..." Doflamingo chuckled, a dark, pulsing vein visible on his forehead. "Trebol. Diamante. Tell me... who exactly is left in the North Blue that possesses the absolute gall to fire upon my flag?"
Everyone in the room shuddered slightly. They all knew perfectly well that Doflamingo's chilling laughter didn't mean he was happy; it meant he possessed an overwhelming, psychotic urge to slaughter someone.
"Behehehehe! Let me speak, let me speak, Doffy!"
Trebol violently leaned forward, shoving his face uncomfortably close to Doflamingo's. The thick, viscous mucus perpetually dripping from Trebol's nose caused the other Executives to visibly recoil in profound disgust. "Could it have been the Navy?! Did a Vice Admiral sink them?!"
Doflamingo aggressively shoved Trebol's massive, sticky face away with an annoyed grimace. "It wasn't the Navy," he stated coldly. "If a Marine warship had engaged one of our affiliated crews, there would have been some sort of official intelligence chatter or a public arrest report. This was a silent, complete eradication. Diamante. I want you to personally handle this. Whoever dared to defy us must be completely, utterly annihilated."
Having not yet ventured into the New World and suffered the absolute, crushing reality checks delivered by apex monsters like Kaido and Big Mom, the current Doflamingo was incredibly arrogant, deeply narcissistic, and completely unrestrained.
"Wait! Doffy, I can't possibly do it! It's too much responsibility! Send someone else!" Diamante immediately threw his hands up, violently shaking his head in refusal.
"No," Doflamingo stared flatly at his Executive. "I want you to handle it."
"Stop it! Please, don't talk about me as if I'm some kind of irreplaceable genius! Doffy, I simply can't accept this task!" Diamante continued his intense, highly dramatic refusal.
"This is a delicate matter that absolutely requires a genius of your caliber, Diamante," Doflamingo replied, his voice completely deadpan, dutifully playing along with his subordinate's bizarre psychological quirk.
"Oh, please stop... I just... I couldn't..." Diamante blushed, wriggling slightly.
"Fine. If you refuse, I guess I'll just have to ask—"
"WELL, SINCE YOU INSIST SO PASSIONATELY!" Diamante instantly interrupted, striking a wildly flamboyant, heroic pose. "I suppose I have no choice but to admit that I am, indeed, a genius! You are absolutely right, Doffy! I am the only man suited for this critical mission! I swear on my honor, I will personally drag those rats from the shadows and drown them in the deepest trenches of the sea!"
"Good. Knowing it's in your capable hands puts my mind at ease," Doflamingo sighed heavily. 'Finally,' he thought. 'It's so exhausting having to go through this exact same ridiculous routine every single time I give him an order.'
With the immediate issue delegated, Doflamingo shifted the meeting to their broader, long-term strategic goals. He ordered the family to rapidly accelerate the transfer of their core assets and operations toward Reverse Mountain, officially preparing for their grand invasion of the Grand Line.
Secondly, he ordered his intelligence network to aggressively gather highly classified information regarding the exact shipping routes and schedules of the Heavenly Tribute (the massive gold shipments paid by allied nations to the Celestial Dragons). He was planning to execute a massive, world-shaking heist to leverage a Warlord position from the World Government.
Finally, he issued a highly covert, long-term order: Monet was to completely alter her identity, infiltrate the Dressrosa Kingdom, and secure a position within the royal palace to provide critical, inside intelligence for their future coup d'état against the Riku Royal Family.
With the meeting officially adjourned, Diamante quickly rallied his elite subordinates from the Diamante Army. They boarded a heavily armed galleon and rapidly set sail toward the exact coordinates where their subordinate ship had vanished.
If Bardock had known, he would have been highly amused to learn that they were sailing directly into the path of the White Dragon.
However, at this exact moment, Bardock was entirely focused on something else. The White Dragon had just dropped anchor at a small, incredibly impoverished island located deep in the North Blue: Famine Village—the tragic, deeply traumatizing birthplace of the Donquixote Family assassin, Baby 5.