Sabaody Archipelago.
The Red-Light District.
What was once a district of merriment and song now stood drenched in flames, echoing with cries instead of laughter.
This was a lawless zone—fertile ground for shady dealings to take root and thrive.
Precisely because of that, it was also a place devoid of order. Neither the Navy nor the World Government bothered to enforce any rules here.
Within the Red-Light District, countless women who made their living here now cowered inside shuttered rooms, trembling as they watched the carnage unfold through cracks in their doors. The thick makeup on their faces couldn't mask the fear in their eyes.
Murder.
Arson.
Rape.
…The sudden wave of invaders had no limits to their depravity. They strutted arrogantly through the streets, proclaiming themselves to be under the flag of the Donquixote Family.
At the head of this group were a few key figures referred to as "officers," each wielding powers both terrifying and bizarre. In a matter of minutes, they had wiped out all armed resistance in the district.
These men had once rampaged through the North Blue, looting and pillaging with impunity, rapidly expanding their influence in the criminal underworld.
Now, they were preparing for the next step—making their entrance into the New World.
And their latest target?
A fat lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
A woman who controlled a massive market centered around the Red-Light District—"Mommy" Sami.
She not only held a sizable share of the trade, but also had exclusive access to resources in human trafficking, intelligence gathering, and more.
Most importantly—she was easy prey.
For the Donquixote Family, still in its early stages of expansion, she was a plump, juicy piece of meat practically begging to be devoured.
They gave Sami one day to consider surrendering her operations. No violence, if it could be helped.
Back inside her quarters in the Red-Light District, Sami, looking somewhat disheveled, dialed the Den Den Mushi over and over again. Her most trusted aides crowded anxiously around her.
From the balcony atop the high-rise, she had a clear view of the mob of thugs pouring through the streets like a tide. Beyond them stood several officers of the Donquixote Family, radiating menace.
And among them—the rising star of the underworld.
"Heavenly Yaksha," Donquixote Doflamingo.
A rookie from the North Blue who had already made a name for himself in the darkest corners of the world.
He had issued an ultimatum: Surrender your territories and operations immediately, or he would personally burn the Red-Light District to the ground and build the largest slave market and auction house Sabaody Archipelago had ever seen.
The Den Den Mushi rang and rang. No one answered. Her subordinates' eyes darted nervously, unwilling to meet hers.
The pressure on Sami's chest was suffocating.
"Brrruuu… Brrruuu… Ka-chak!"
The line connected.
Everyone in the room perked up instantly, as if hearing the voice of God.
"Moshi moshi—Sami? What's going on?"
"Lord Ozz! Thank goodness you picked up! We're under attack!"
Tears welled up in her eyes as her voice cracked, a note of relief mingling with the hint of a whimper. She even sounded a little… coquettish.
The nearby handlers stared at her in disbelief.
Was this really the proud, commanding Madam Sami?
In this moment, she looked more like a bullied schoolgirl calling her big brother to come make things right.
The Den Den Mushi, now transformed with the features of Ozz, wore an indulgent, composed smile.
"Sorry about that—I was training. I'll be right there."
Aboard the Flamingo pirate ship.
Red wine, deep and dark like blood, swirled lazily in a high-stemmed glass. A tiny maid carried it toward the man standing at the ship's bow.
A man draped in a flamingo-pink coat, with golden hair spiked proudly upward.
Beneath his sinister shades, no one could see his eyes—but his mocking smirk said it all.
He gazed toward the island known as the gateway to the New World.
"A fine location, indeed... Whether it's casinos, auction houses, or the slave trade—this place is a goldmine. Letting those women play house with it is nothing short of wasteful."
Doflamingo's lips curled upward. Cold light gleamed off his sunglasses as if he already owned the island.
"Hey hey, Doffy~ Want me to send the boys now? That chick doesn't look like she's gonna fold."
The sniveling man who'd threatened Sami earlier sidled up to Doflamingo, grinning with malicious glee.
"You're standing too close, Trebol."
Doflamingo's smile faded into a scowl as the slimeball inched nearer, threatening to get his snot all over him.
"Heh-heh-heh~ The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner we head for Loguetown, right? You said you wanted to witness the Pirate King's execution."
Trebol was practically egging him on. He'd long grown sick of Sami's prideful composure.
A mere brothel queen? Just a clever woman with a few assets to her name—what gave her the right to negotiate with the mighty Donquixote Family?
Doflamingo, for his part, genuinely valued his so-called "family." And this small favor was nothing in the grand scheme. He thought for only a second before flashing a wicked grin.
"You're right. Let's go clean up that little mess right now."
Sabaody's Red-Light District was a trivial blip to him.
But the future wasn't.
History was about to be made—and he wasn't about to be late. Still, this minor stop was worth his time.
Once he secured a foothold here and spread his underground network through Paradise and the New World, he would amass the power needed to reclaim Dressrosa.
With that goal in mind, Doflamingo stepped off the ship. Invisible threads unfurled from his fingers, anchoring into the clouds.
Like walking on air, a pink silhouette darted effortlessly across the sky.
Under the command of their officers, the Donquixote goons ceased their vandalism and began swarming toward the Red-Light District in full force.
The women inside trembled in horror as they watched the invaders form a ring around the entire block. At the center stood the officers—each strange and grotesque in their own right.
But at the very front—
A tall man in dark shades, his lips curled into a wolfish grin.
"You've had plenty of time to think. In the end, it's going to get ugly anyway."
"So I'll just—"
"Kill every last one of you."
Just as he was about to give the order—
The crowd fell deathly silent.
Unnaturally silent.
As if the very air had frozen.
"Pardon me, kid,"
"But who exactly were you planning to kill?"
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