Queen Otohime, despite her grand ideals, was no fool. She had always known that words alone would never be enough to sway the hearts of men entrenched in hatred and prejudice. Yet, deep down, she had still hoped—hoped that if she could just find the right words, if she could just show them the sincerity of the Fishman people, they would listen.
But now, as her Observation Haki reached out, probing into Doflamingo's emotions, she realized the true reason for his disinterest.
The man was pissed.
Not because of the situation at hand, but because of the past. Because they had once tried to use his friendship with Arnold—a fellow Fishman—to have him intervene in the matter of Fisher Tiger.
It had been a desperate gamble. One that had failed spectacularly.
And now, standing in the heart of the Holy Land, with hostile forces surrounding them, Otohime finally understood how foolish she had been.
'I couldn't even protect myself from the claws of a Celestial Dragon… And yet, I believed they would actually listen to me? That they would even consider our request to free Fisher Tiger?'
Her fingers trembled, but not from fear—from the biting weight of reality.
Neptune, however, was a warrior first and foremost. He could see the storm brewing, and desperation surged in his heart. He knew that if this continued, Otohime's fate would be sealed—and he would rather die than let that happen.
"Help us, Jamon...!"
The King of Fishman Island turned to Doflamingo, his deep voice carrying a plea, not as a ruler, but as a husband willing to throw aside his pride to protect his queen.
Yet, Doflamingo remained unmoved. He sat lazily upon his throne of threads, his arms resting comfortably over the serrated edges, watching the events unfold with the amusement of a spectator at a bloodsport.
And then—
"WHAT ARE YOU BASTARDS WAITING FOR? GET ME THAT MERMAID!"
The Celestial Dragon had finally snapped, his shrill voice tearing through the air like a knife. Spittle flew from behind his glass-encased helmet as his pudgy finger jabbed furiously in Otohime's direction.
A World Government agent reacted immediately, lunging forward, his hand outstretched, aiming to grab the Fishman Queen from behind—
But before he could even come close, a shadow moved.
A towering figure stepped forward, his broad shoulders tensed, muscles coiled like a steel cable beneath his blue skin. His face, normally composed, was now a mask of pure, unrelenting fury.
Jinbe.
The Knight of the Sea, a warrior of unshakable will, had seen enough.
With a deep breath, he lowered his stance, his powerful arms tightening as his entire body became a conduit for destruction.
"Gyojin Karate… Samegawara Seiken!"
A straight punch ripped through the air, the very pressure of his strike warping the space around it. A shockwave howled forward like a raging tide, slamming into the approaching agent with the force of an oceanic tempest.
"Tekkai!"
The agent barely had time to activate his Iron Body technique, reinforcing his muscles into a fortress of steel—but it didn't matter.
Jinbe's fist broke through his defense like a hammer through brittle glass.
The agent's body folded inward, his ribs cracking audibly before he was sent hurtling through the air like a ragdoll, his form crashing into a distant building with an explosion of shattered stone and dust.
For a split second, there was silence. Then—all hell broke loose.
"JINBE—!"
Otohime's voice trembled with despair—not from fear for herself, but from what this meant. The first punch had been thrown.
There was no turning back now.
Doflamingo, still perched on his woven throne, let out a low chuckle as he watched the chaos unfold. He had known this would happen. He had predicted it.
"Fufufufufu… Oh, how naïve you are, Queen Otohime."
She still failed to see it. This wasn't a matter of goodwill. This wasn't something that could be resolved with words. This was a world of predators and prey. And right now, the Fishmen had just declared themselves as fighters.
The moment the first agent fell, the entirety of the World Government's forces sprang into action.
More than two dozen soldiers and agents surged forward, blades drawn, guns cocked, fists clenched as they rushed the Fishman delegation.
Even the guides—who had earlier acted as their escorts—turned on them without hesitation, their facades of civility discarded in an instant.
King Neptune let out a battle cry, his mighty trident twirling in his grip as he swung outward in a massive arc, knocking back three soldiers at once.
But the sheer numbers of the opposition were overwhelming.
Jinbe moved like a tempest, his fists a blur, each strike sending shockwaves rippling through the air.
One agent aimed a kick at his side, but Jinbe twisted mid-motion, slamming his elbow into the man's leg with enough force to nearly shatter it.
Another soldier lunged with a blade, but before he could even swing, Jinbe's open palm struck his chest, sending him flying into a group of his allies.
Amidst the storm of battle, Otohime was still pleading—her voice desperate, filled with anguish.
"STOP THIS MADNESS! PLEASE!"
But no one listened. Not the World Government, who saw them as nothing but lowly creatures to be subjugated. Not the Fishmen, who had finally lost their patience with the abuse they had endured for generations.
And certainly not Doflamingo, who merely leaned back, watching the carnage unfold with a smirk of amusement. His fingers tapped against the armrest of his string throne, a tune only he could hear.
Because in this brutal, merciless world…
There were only two kinds of people. Those who held the leash. And those who were chained by it.
The air shook with the roar of battle. Neptune swung his mighty trident, the weapon's golden edges gleaming under the holy city's artificial light as he cleaved through a group of charging soldiers. His Haki-infused strike sent three men flying, their bodies crashing against the marble walls with sickening cracks.
But more came. Dozens more.
Jinbe fought like a storm given form, his massive fists rippling with raw Fishman Karate as he struck with devastating precision. His blows weren't just physical—they sent shockwaves rippling through the air, slamming into the bodies of his enemies like the pressure of the deepest ocean currents.
"Gyojin Karate: Kairyuu Ipponzeoi!"
Jinbe grabbed a soldier by the arm and hurled him into a squad of attackers, their bodies colliding in an explosion of armor, limbs, and blood. But even as they fell, more soldiers flooded in, their faces hidden behind steel masks, their orders absolute.
The World Government's elite agents were now fully engaged, moving in waves, each strike more ruthless than the last. Among them, the masked CP agents maneuvered through the battlefield like ghosts, their speed unnatural, their strikes deadly.
A Fishman warrior, one of Neptune's royal guards, tried to intercept a charging soldier, but before he could react—
SCHLING!
A razor-thin blade pierced through his throat, exiting cleanly from the other side. He stumbled, eyes wide in shock, clutching his bleeding neck before collapsing to the ground, his blood painting the white stone red.
"NO!" Another Fishman warrior roared, swinging his curved blade in rage, only to be impaled through the gut by a masked assassin who moved too fast for the eye to track.
The warrior's body stiffened, then slumped, lifeless. Neptune's heart clenched in rage and despair, but there was no time to grieve.
More enemies kept coming.
More than two dozen had now become fifty.
Fifty was now a hundred.
And still, at the center of it all—Otohime remained.
Her eyes were wide, horrified as she watched her people fall one by one, yet she still held her hands up, still tried to reason with the very people trying to steal her away.
"Please! STOP THIS! THIS IS MADNESS!"
But her words were drowned out by the crash of weapons, the screams of the fallen, and the cruel laughter of the Celestial Dragon.
The World Noble stood behind the protective formation of soldiers, watching the carnage unfold with gleeful amusement. His bloated face pressed against the inside of his glass helmet, his breath fogging up the surface as his eyes gleamed with hunger.
This wasn't just entertainment to him. It was a hunt. Every moment that passed, his prey was being cornered, brought closer to his grasp.
"YES! YES! That's it! KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL IF YOU HAVE TO, JUST BRING ME THAT MERMAID!!"
He stomped his gilded boot against the ground, his rage barely contained as he pointed a pudgy, trembling finger toward Otohime.
"SHE BELONGS TO ME!!"
His words rang like a death sentence. And the soldiers obeyed.
Neptune felt his arms ache from the relentless swinging of his trident, but still, he held firm.
Beside him, Jinbe's breathing grew heavier, but his stance never wavered.
Another Fishman warrior was cut down, a sword buried deep into his chest. His dying gasp was swallowed by the sounds of war.
A spear came for Neptune's side—he barely twisted in time, the blade grazing his ribs, cutting through his royal garments.
Jinbe blocked a dagger with his forearm, the blade sinking into his flesh, but he gritted his teeth and retaliated with a devastating palm strike, crushing the ribs of his attacker.
Yet for every enemy they struck down, more took their place. The Fishmen were being pushed back.
Step by step.
Each second, the claws of the Celestial Dragon drew closer to Otohime. The Queen of the Fishman race was running out of time.
Seated like a king upon his throne of strings, Doflamingo watched the slaughter unfold with a cruel glint in his eye. The chaos, the screams, the desperation—it was all so familiar, so predictable.
The weak begged. The strong crushed them.
The Fishmen were being driven to their knees, their warriors cut down one by one. Neptune bled. Jinbe fought with the fury of a storm, but even the mightiest waves could only hold back the tide for so long.
And Queen Otohime? She still pleaded for peace. Doflamingo scoffed. Naïve to the very end.
Then, a familiar voice broke his thoughts.
"Master Doffy," Senor Pink murmured as he leaned in, his voice calm yet firm. "If young master Ross were to hear of your inaction, he'd be truly upset."
At this, Doflamingo's smirk twitched.
Senor was right.
Ross, his younger brother, had always despised chaos. But if there was one thing that truly set him off, it was someone disrupting his carefully laid plans. He had forged an unshakable bond with the Fishmen, built on mutual respect and unspoken promises.
If he were to hear that Doflamingo had simply sat back and allowed the royal family of Fishman Island to be torn apart, there would be hell to pay.
More than that—it would jeopardize everything they had built and threaten their future plans.
The Donquixote Family had worked too hard to solidify their ties with Fishman Island, controlling the sea routes, the trade, the power balance between the underworld and the surface. To lose all of that over a petty grudge?
Doflamingo tilted his head, chuckling to himself.
"Fufufufu… Senor, are you going to snitch on me and go running to my little brother?" His voice was mocking, but his sharp gaze flicked toward the battlefield.
The Fishmen were moments away from being overwhelmed.
The Celestial Dragon, that disgusting pig in a glass bubble, was already salivating, watching his "prize" slip closer and closer to his grasp.
Senor smirked. "Would you like me to, Master Doffy?"
Doflamingo let out a dramatic sigh, dragging a hand down his face before standing up in one fluid motion.
"Fine, fine. If I don't step in now, I'm never going to hear the end of it."
He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders like a man preparing for a casual stroll—
—but the moment he did, the air around him shifted.
The battlefield, once drenched in blood and chaos, suddenly froze.
A suffocating wave of pressure crashed down upon the plaza, sending a violent shudder through the air. It was like an invisible force had wrapped around everyone's throats, squeezing the breath from their lungs.
Several weaker soldiers collapsed instantly, their eyes rolling back as they hit the ground. Even some of the stronger agents found themselves buckling, sweat beading on their foreheads as their knees threatened to give out.
Neptune and Jinbe, mid-battle, felt it like a tidal wave crashing upon them.
And at the very center of it all—
Doflamingo grinned.
"Alright then..." he murmured, stepping forward as threads of unseen power began to weave through the air.
"Let's put an end to this farce."
Senor straightened beside him, flexing his fingers, ready to unleash hell.
The entire force targeting the Fishman delegation froze, their bodies stiffening as an invisible weight pressed down upon them. Only the most seasoned Cipher Pol agents managed to hold their ground, their discipline keeping them steady.
However, not everyone recognized a warning when they saw one. The guards assigned to the Celestial Dragon immediately turned hostile, their hands tightening on their weapons.
The situation escalated further as the Celestial Dragon himself, now trembling with rage and humiliation, bellowed a command that sent a ripple of tension through the air.
"You filth! How dare you interfere? Take his head—now!"
Doflamingo merely chuckled, an amused smirk playing on his lips. Even as the Celestial Dragon roared, demanding retribution, the self-proclaimed god failed to notice the shift in the atmosphere.
A handful of soldiers collapsed to the ground, their bodies twitching before going still. They weren't wounded, nor were they attacked—no, they had simply fallen prey to an aura too overwhelming for their weak wills to endure.
It wasn't even directed at them.
That was the true terror of Doflamingo.
Yet the Celestial Dragon still stood, his glass helmet slightly fogging up from the sheer exertion of his rage. His personal guards, however, lacked his obliviousness. They had seen enough men faint to understand that something far beyond their pay grade was at play. But fear did not equate to intelligence, and some of them still dared to move.
The first of them lunged, sword drawn. He never made it far. Midair, frozen.
Upon closer inspection, it became horrifyingly clear that it wasn't some unseen force keeping them in place. No, their bodies were bound—suspended in the air by nearly invisible strings.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as realization dawned. Doflamingo hadn't even raised a hand, yet close to a dozen men now hung like grotesque marionettes, their limbs contorted, their weapons slipping from their grasp. Panic set in, but before anyone could act—
A world government agent moved.
Perhaps he thought he was fast enough. Perhaps he thought he could cut the threads, sever the puppeteer's hold before the worst could happen.
He was wrong.
Before his blade could even glint in the light, a hand of searing purple flames shot out from nowhere, wrapping around his wrist. Then came the scream.
A bloodcurdling, spine-chilling wail that tore through the air, sending shivers down the spines of even the most hardened warriors.
The Celestial Dragon, for the first time, faltered. His rage-filled breath hitched as his gaze snapped toward the source of the fire.
Senor Pink stood there, his fingers still lazily flexing, as if merely testing the limits of his grip. The agent writhed in agony, his flesh sizzling, his once-pristine uniform blackening under the intense heat.
And then, Doflamingo spoke.
"Fufufufu... Oh? Did you actually think I'd let this little show continue?"
His tone was light, almost playful, yet dripping with something far more sinister. Senor's fingers twitched ever so slightly, and in the next moment—
The strung-up soldiers were torn apart. It was gruesome. No finesse. No precision. Just pure, ruthless carnage.
Blood, sinew, and bone exploded into the air like a grotesque firework, painting the white marble of the Holy Land a deep, visceral red. The sound of bodies being ripped apart—of flesh being torn, of bones snapping like twigs—was enough to turn even the most battle-hardened warriors pale.
And yet, in the midst of this horror, Doflamingo merely tilted his head, his grin widening ever so slightly.
Senor, standing beside him, exhaled lazily, as if what he had just done was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
The entire plaza fell into a suffocating silence.
Even the CP0 agent, who had been assigned to watch over Doflamingo, looked stricken. Her face remained impassive, but her fingers twitched at her side, betraying her tension. She wanted to intervene—she had to intervene—but she knew better.
Her orders had been clear.
For the duration of his stay, Doflamingo held a special status. If he didn't directly kill a Celestial Dragon, she had no authority to stop him.
Silently, she turned to a nearby Cipher Pol agent and whispered something low. With a blur of motion, the agent vanished into the distance, using Soru to report directly to the Elders.
Because one thing was clear:
Doflamingo wasn't playing by anyone's rules.
Doflamingo paid no mind to the carnage Senor had caused, nor did he acknowledge the Cipher Pol agent who had been reduced to nothing but ash. His boots squelched against the blood pooling over the pristine marble, yet he walked as though the world itself parted before him. Each step was deliberate, steady, filled with an unshaken authority that made even the strongest warriors hesitate.
Before him, the remnants of the Fishman delegation stood in a tight circle, their backs pressed together in a final defensive formation, with Queen Otohime sheltered at the center. Their bodies bore various degrees of injuries—cuts, bruises, broken bones—testaments to the relentless onslaught they had endured.
Only two remained standing with any fight left in them: King Neptune and Jinbe.
Doflamingo came to a stop just before them, his gaze cold and unreadable. Then, he tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening into something far more sinister.
"Do you see now, Queen Otohime?" he drawled, voice dripping with condescension. "This—this blood, this suffering—this is what your naive ideals have cost you."
Otohime's breath hitched, her fingers clutching at her chest as if she could will away the weight pressing down on her heart.
Doflamingo's grin widened.
"So tell me, how do you plan to face the families of these fallen men? When you return to Fishman Island, what will you say to them? That their husbands, their brothers, their sons died for some greater good?" His words were venomous, seeping into her soul. "Or will you tell them the truth—that they died because of your one impulsive, foolish decision?"
Silence.
Even the air seemed to still, as if waiting for her answer.
The Queen of the Fishman race—so noble, so kind, so unshaken in her dream of peace—stood there, speechless.
But it was not her voice that broke the silence.
"That is enough, Donquixote!"
Neptune's deep voice thundered, his powerful frame shifting forward as he glared at Doflamingo.
"My wife does not need your torment!"
But before he could say another word, Doflamingo turned his gaze onto him.
A simple movement. Yet it was enough. The moment their eyes met, a cold chill ran down Neptune's spine.
It was a feeling he had not experienced in years. Not in war, not against sea monsters, not even in the darkest depths of the ocean. It was pure, unfiltered dread.
Doflamingo wasn't just strong. He wasn't just a pirate. He was a monster that had learned to wear the skin of a man. Neptune gritted his teeth, but he said nothing more.
Doflamingo let the silence linger before speaking again, his voice now lower, calmer—but no less cutting.
"And let me remind you, King Neptune—if you continue letting your wife walk this path, sooner or later, it won't just be the humans coming for her." He leaned in slightly, his voice almost a whisper, yet it carried across the bloodstained marble like a curse. "Some of your own kind would be all too eager to put a knife in her back."
Otohime's eyes widened.
Because she knew he wasn't wrong.
The dream she sought, the peace she longed for—it was not just the humans who stood in her way. There were Fishmen who despised her ideals just as much, if not more.
Doflamingo sighed, rolling his shoulders lazily. "Honestly, if I let you die here, my little brother would have my head." His lips curled into a smirk. "Guess you got lucky this time."
He turned his gaze to Senor.
"Escort them to Red Port. The Fishmen delegation won't be attending Reverie."
There was no room for argument.
Neptune and Otohime exchanged glances. They both knew what this was—an order. Doflamingo had no love for them, nor did he share their ideals, but he was not about to let an important political alliance crumble just yet.
Jinbe, however, understood more than anyone what had just happened. He stepped forward, bowing his head slightly—not in submission, but in respect.
He did not say a word. He didn't need to.
Doflamingo merely smirked at the gesture before turning away, already losing interest.
The plaza remained eerily silent, as if no one dared to breathe too loudly in his presence.
And then—
A deafening gunshot rang out.
The moment was so sudden that even some of the hardened warriors flinched.
Doflamingo's body barely moved.
A single bullet hole now marred his pristine white suit, piercing through his shoulder. But even as the wound appeared, it closed just as quickly—flesh knitting itself back together in an instant.
For a second, no one moved.
Then Doflamingo let out a low chuckle, his smirk widening into something truly menacing.
He turned, ever so slowly, until his cold, deadly eyes landed on the trembling figure of the Celestial Dragon, still holding the smoking pistol in his shaky hands.
Doflamingo's amusement faded into something much, much darker.
"Oh?"
His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it sent a shiver through the very air.
"Fufufufu….I almost forgot about you."