This changes everything.
Even the brief alliance between BIG MOM, Kaido, and Doflamingo had already put the World Government and the Marines on edge.
But if they truly formed an alliance?
What kind of world would that create?
The news of a political marriage between the two factions was urgently relayed to the World Government by Stussy.
And the man on Stussy's mind—Doflamingo—was currently piloting the Numancia Flamingo, soaring high above the outskirts of Drum Island.
"Snow's falling!"
Enel, bare-chested, shivered slightly as snowflakes landed on his skin.
A sign they had entered the winter island zone.
He quickly pulled out a thick coat he had prepared in advance and threw it on.
But beside him, Doflamingo stood unbothered in light clothing, casually flipping through documents sent from Skypiea.
Enel couldn't help but feel envious. That kind of body... he wanted it too.
"Are we almost at Drum Island, Boss? What's the plan this time? Are we just going to wipe the place off the map?"
"That's right. But don't be so crude about it—it's tasteless."
Doflamingo glanced down at the photo in his hand, a smirk curling on his lips.
"There are some major clients of ours living on this island. Let's treat our gods with a bit more grace. Fufufufufufu~"
In the photo was a young man with pink hair.
"..." Enel was speechless.
You talk about taste, but when you fought Bullet, you were more savage than anyone.
...
Soon, the island with its towering, column-like peaks came into view.
Drum Island.
They had arrived.
Drum Island was a classic winter island.
The Iron Drum Kingdom that ruled here was a small affiliated nation of the World Government, located in the first half of the Grand Line.
Its harsh climate and aggressive wildlife made the population especially sparse.
But it wasn't without its merits.
Its advanced medical expertise was known even across the world. It was called the Land of Medicine.
Rumor had it that even Whitebeard, the strongest man in the world, once sent people to visit this country.
Whether that was true remained uncertain.
Still, it added a layer of mystery to the kingdom.
But the Drum Kingdom was far from peaceful right now.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Modified Flame Shells exploded in advance.
Blazing flames shot through pipes and engulfed a row of houses.
"Fire! Fire!"
"Get out of there, quick!"
"The Flame Shells malfunctioned again!!!"
The fire spread with alarming speed.
Three connected houses went up in flames in moments.
The villagers inside rushed out in panic, not even stopping to grab warm clothes.
They stared in despair at the burning buildings.
Repairs could fix a scorched house.
But this nation had a monster that was never satisfied.
And its favorite food... was barbecued houses.
People drawn by the fire quickly realized what was happening and started grabbing snow to douse the flames.
"Hurry! Put it out!"
"Don't just stand there—move!"
"Everyone! Stop right now!!!"
Wapol, already prepared, charged over with his personal guards.
These houses were his carefully prepared meals—he would not allow them to be ruined.
"No putting out the fire!"
"What?!"
This time, it wasn't just the citizens who were stunned.
Even Wapol's own guards were shocked.
They couldn't believe the man who was soon to be their king would say something like that.
Before, the prince had only eaten houses after accidental fires.
But now? What did this mean? Would he burn down all their homes just to satisfy his appetite?!
The villagers tried to reason with him.
"Prince Wapol!"
"This fire could've been prevented!"
"These houses are still usable!"
"Shut up!" Wapol's drool was already dripping down his chin.
No one would stop him from feasting!
"I'm hungry! I want to eat! Anyone who puts out the fire—I'll eat them too!"
...
Everyone—villagers and guards alike—fell silent.
They watched their homes burn with helpless eyes.
Wapol was the prince. Though there was also Prince Mushiru, the king's favoritism toward Wapol left no room for doubt.
Wapol was the future ruler of the Drum Kingdom. No one could go against him.
"Hahahaha! Smells delicious!!"
Wapol laughed triumphantly as he watched the fire die down.
He dashed toward the still-warm ruins—he wanted it hot!
...
News of the incident quickly reached the captain of the kingdom's royal guard—Dalton.
The loyal bull-headed man, furious on behalf of the people, stormed up the towering column to the royal palace.
Inside the warm palace air, Dalton's rage only grew hotter.
"Your Majesty, today Prince Wapol devoured three houses. He even stopped citizens and guards from putting out the fire. Don't you think you've spoiled him enough?"
"I'm sorry, Dalton... I'm troubled by this too."
King Twatte pressed his forehead in frustration. Even he had no idea how to handle Wapol's madness.
Under his rule, Drum Kingdom had been a small but peaceful nation.
Thanks to the Flame Shells and Heat Shells acquired from the Donquixote Family, life for the people had improved greatly.
But ever since Wapol ate a Devil Fruit, things had taken a turn for the worse.
As he grew older, normal food no longer satisfied him.
Trees, rocks, even buildings—his appetite grew, and so did his body.
Worst of all, roasted houses had become his absolute favorite.
The kingdom now simmered with resentment toward Wapol's behavior.
But he was the king's chosen heir. Twatte couldn't bring himself to punish him.
"Dalton, Wapol is still a child. Once he matures, he'll shoulder his responsibilities, I'm sure of it."
"But—" Dalton tried to press the issue.
But King Twatte cut him off.
"That's enough. This matter is settled. You're in charge of handling the compensation."
"..."
Dalton clenched his fists.
His frustration with Wapol grew heavier with every incident.
And yet Wapol only became more unbearable.
If this continued, what would become of the kingdom? Of the people?
But as a vassal, there was nothing he could do. Only the king had the power to discipline Wapol.
"Understood, Your Majesty."
Dalton left, his steps heavy, like a dog that had lost its purpose.
...
"Father, leave Wapol to me! I'll train him properly! I'll make him take responsibility as a future king!"
The quiet hall was suddenly interrupted.
Mushiru bowed his head, eyes full of hatred for Wapol.
They were both sons of the same father, yet Wapol had always been spoiled.
And he—he was now being exiled to the Land of Fire.
How utterly unfair!
"You?"
King Twatte turned, his expression changing from kind to cold.
Wapol's crimes had only caused property damage—damage that Twatte could fix.
But Mushiru... Mushiru had eaten the Bacteria-Bacteria Fruit.
He had experimented on the citizens since childhood using all kinds of pathogens.
If the fruit's potential hadn't been underdeveloped at the time...
If they hadn't discovered it early...
If the doctors hadn't intervened...
He would've brought about a disaster. The people would've perished under Mushiru's hands.
The royal family's honor, upheld for 800 years, would've been shattered by Mushiru alone.
The more Twatte thought about it, the angrier he got.
"Go reflect on your sins in the Land of Fire! Let its flames burn the poison from your heart!!"
He flung his sleeves and walked toward the back of the palace, pressing his fingers to his aching temples.
What had he done to deserve this?
He had ruled his country with care and diligence his whole life.
And yet neither of his sons had inherited a shred of royal character.
...
"As you wish, my King!"
Watching Twatte's retreating figure, Mushiru's eyes burned with hatred.