Thud...
Thud...
As the sharp cadence of approaching footsteps echoed across the street, a strange and terrifying phenomenon began to ripple through the crowd—starting from the edges inward, the thugs collapsed one by one, eyes rolled back, mouths agape, fainting on the spot.
Like a storm sweeping through a wheat field, they fell in waves, helpless before the unseen pressure.
Inside the central building of the district, as if sensing the arrival of an overwhelming force, Madame Sammy and her entourage—bodyguards and courtesans alike—hurried out onto the balcony, expressions alight with hope and disbelief.
"Who is it!? Show yourself!!"
One of the top officers of the Donquixote Family, the wielder of the Float-Float Fruit, Diamante, roared furiously.
The other officers, equally unsettled, scanned their surroundings, trying to locate the source of the footsteps.
"You've got to be kidding me—this presence!?"
Among them, Donquixote Doflamingo, the most powerful fighter present and a user of Conqueror's Haki himself, was the one who felt it most vividly. His forehead bulged with veins as cold sweat poured down unchecked.
Red-black lightning crackled across the sky, saturating the air with oppressive force. Each footstep seemed to land directly on the hearts of all present, dredging up primal fear and dread from their depths.
But the most terrifying part? Everyone could hear the footsteps—but no one could tell where they were coming from.
Not until they drew closer, louder, more distinct...
At last, the crowd could make out the figure from the distance.
A tall man in a black military uniform strode slowly forward, walking atop the bodies of the fallen like they were nothing more than paving stones.
Jet-black clothing streaked with traces of battle—gun at his back, blade at his hip.
Red-black lightning danced around his long, lean form as he moved with an air of unhurried elegance. Yet with each blink, he seemed to draw closer in a blur of terrifying speed—like a wraith risen from the depths of hell.
At the sight of him, Sammy, who had been strung tight as a bow, finally let out the breath she'd been holding.
Her knees buckled from sudden relief, and she nearly collapsed—if not for the loyal aide at her side who quickly caught her.
"Ayaya~ Madam, you see Lord Ozz and you go weak in the knees, huh?"
The aide, Aili, who had served at Sammy's side for over a decade, couldn't resist a teasing remark. Sammy flushed pink with embarrassment.
"Don't be cheeky," she snapped, trying to maintain her dignity.
Of course, it wasn't just Sammy who was overcome.
"Kyaaa~!! It's Lord Ozz!!!"
"He's too handsome! I'll bear your children, Lord Ozz!!!"
In an instant, the Red-Light District—just moments ago drowned in silence and chaos—erupted with jubilation. Women who had been hiding in fear now leaned out of windows, shrieking with delight and relief.
Their cheers rang out, raw and unrestrained, as if to purge the humiliation and terror they'd just endured with wild adoration.
By contrast, the faces of the Donquixote Family were ashen.
Where the hell did this monster crawl out from!?
They'd been investigating Sammy for years and never heard a whisper about a powerhouse like this in her corner.
As the cheers of the courtesans swelled and the officers of the Donquixote Family looked on in stunned silence, Ozz walked unimpeded through the throng.
No one dared block his path.
Wherever he passed, another body dropped. Not even the elite among them could resist.
By the time he stood face-to-face with Doflamingo, he was the only one from the Donquixote Family still standing.
The gap was painfully obvious.
Doflamingo's arrogance had vanished. His jaw clenched tight, silver teeth grinding audibly as veins throbbed across his face.
Beneath his signature sunglasses, his pupils trembled in disbelief as he stared at the smiling man before him.
This kind of monster... shouldn't exist in Paradise!
Long, flowing black hair, a sharp and distinguished black military uniform, blade and rifle at the ready.
A deceptively gentle face, handsome and calm—yet his eyes looked down on all creation.
A member of the Roger Pirates.
Wanted for 1.09 billion Berries.
Black Gun—Dotor Ozz!?
This had to be a joke!!!
Ozz curled his lips slightly into a smile—but there was no warmth in his eyes.
At six foot ten, he loomed over the still-young Doflamingo like a monolith.
"Did you not hear my question?" he asked, his tone almost casual.
He leaned in ever so slightly, scarlet light flashing within his pupils as they bored straight through Doflamingo's trembling gaze.
"Who were you planning to kill?"
That calm yet domineering question, paired with the suffocating aura radiating from Ozz, left everyone present frozen in place.
And amidst this tension, the male staff of the district's bars and casinos trembled with giddy excitement at their "half-boss's" electrifying entrance.
As for the girls of the Red-Light District—some nearly fainted from sheer emotional overload, their fragile hearts finally feeling safe again.
"Kyaaaa!!! Did you see that, Six? It's Master! Master's really here!"
"Mmhmm! I knew Lord Ozz would come for us. He's so dreamy..."
Next to Sammy, two young maids waved their hands frantically, even though Ozz hadn't looked their way once.
Six and Seven—Ozz's personal maids—had long since been conquered by his strength and charm. Their hearts, metaphorically, were already shaped like him.
Even during the riot, they'd never once doubted he would come. When their calls through the Den Den Mushi went unanswered twice, they were this close to raising their guns against anyone who dared speak ill of their master—if Sammy hadn't stepped in to calm the situation.
Now, all eyes were fixed on Doflamingo.
Surrounded. Threatened. Publicly humiliated.
He could barely keep his composure.
As a wielder of Conqueror's Haki, he refused to cower in silence. Clenching his teeth and ignoring the sweat rolling down his face, he growled:
"Black Gun! Why the hell is a man like you here?!"
"You were a member of the Roger Pirates, sure—but you've gone too far! Don't forget, Roger's been caught! And you dare parade yourself like this under the World Government's nose?!"
"Let me remind you—my name is Donquixote!!"
Ozz's smile widened, but his eyes remained cold.
"So that's your confidence, Doflamingo? The World Government?"
"You really think they'd go to war over your death? You actually believe that?"
He locked eyes with the trembling warlord and calmly, ruthlessly, peeled away the pretense.
"You're nothing but a discarded piece of trash exiled from Mariejois."
"SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!!!"
That did it.
Ozz's words hit like a hammer to the chest. Doflamingo's pride, his shame, his trauma—they all surged up at once. Rage overtook fear.
His forehead veins bulged as his composure shattered.
"You think a brat like you has the right to judge my life?!"
The wounds of his childhood—his deepest scars—were laid bare for all to see. Stripped of his mask, he could no longer keep his fury contained.
And the bitter irony?
He was screaming this at a fifteen-year-old.
----------------------------------------------------
If you're into Ozz's story, my P@treon's got more waiting for you!
[email protected]/_theon