Dressrosa.
King's Plateau.
Beside a luxurious royal swimming pool, the air was thick with the cloying scent of expensive red wine and tropical fruits.
A group of beautiful women in bikinis were kneeling to the side, trembling with fear.
They didn't even dare to breathe too loudly.
Because the man lying on the beach chair was exuding an aura that was far too oppressive at the moment.
Donquixote Doflamingo held several sheets of intelligence reports that had just been faxed over.
Behind his sunglasses, his eyes stared fixedly at the text on the pages.
The veins at his temples throbbed as if they had a life of their own.
That was the top-secret report sent back by Vergo from the North Blue.
Silence.
A deathly silence.
The surrounding family officers looked at each other, none of them daring to speak first.
Trebol slurped his snot, shifting his bloated body somewhat uneasily.
Diamante stopped wiping his longsword, his gaze solemn.
Everyone sensed the explosive emotion brewing within the Young Master.
Was it anger?
Or fear?
"Fuffuffu... Fuffuffuffu..."
A low chuckle suddenly squeezed out from deep within Doflamingo's throat.
It was a wild joy that had been suppressed to the extreme.
"Fuffuffuffuffuffu!!!"
The laughter suddenly spiked, becoming frenzied and unrestrained!
Snap!
The priceless crystal goblet in his hand was instantly crushed to pieces.
Scarlet wine mixed with glass shards flowed through the gaps between his fingers.
It dripped onto the pristine marble floor, a shocking sight.
"Young Master?"
Pica's high-pitched voice carried a hint of confusion.
Doflamingo jerked into a sitting position.
Ignoring the blood on his hand, he slammed the wine-stained intelligence report onto the table.
He laughed so hard his whole body rocked back and forth.
It was as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.
"How interesting!"
"This is simply the most brilliant script on these seas!"
"Fuffuffuffuffu!"
He laughed until tears almost came out, his body trembling violently.
"Hey, hey, Doffy, what exactly happened?"
Trebol leaned in, his slimy, large face almost touching Doflamingo.
"Is there good news from Vergo's side?"
"Did he catch that bastard who's causing trouble in the North Blue?"
Doflamingo pushed Trebol away.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his surging emotions.
But the corners of his mouth, stretched all the way to his ears, simply wouldn't go down.
"Catch him?"
"No, Trebol."
Doflamingo pointed at the report on the table, his tone carrying a morbid excitement.
"Do you know what Vergo wrote in the report?"
"On these seas, an organization called the 'SCP Foundation' has appeared."
The officers looked blank.
Clearly, they were puzzled by this unfamiliar term.
"Is that... a new pirate crew?"
Diamante asked with a frown.
"Pirate crew?"
Doflamingo sneered, his eyes full of mockery.
"Don't use such low-level vocabulary to insult them."
"According to what that man calling himself Abel said."
"They are a containment organization that spans across dimensions."
"Beyond this universe, there are countless parallel worlds."
"And this sea we are in..."
"In their eyes, it is nothing more than a remote, backward..."
Doflamingo paused.
The smile on his face became increasingly hideous and brilliant.
"Aboriginal planet!"
Boom!
This term exploded in everyone's ears like a clap of thunder.
Aboriginal?
A world with Marineford, the Four Emperors, the Shichibukai... a world with the miraculous power of Devil Fruits.
To be called aboriginal?
"This... how is this possible?"
Lao G was so surprised he struck a strange pose, the wrinkles on his old face trembling.
"This must be the nonsensical ravings of a madman!"
"Nonsensical ravings?"
"Don't underestimate Vergo; we must believe in our family."
Doflamingo wagged his finger, slowly stood up, and walked to the railing.
He looked down at the bustling Dressrosa below, his gaze seemingly piercing through the clouds to look at the distant peak of the Red Line.
That was the direction of the Holy Land, Mary Geoise.
Where the 'gods' of this world lived.
"Fuffuffu..."
"Don't you think this is ironic?"
"Those Celestial Dragons who call themselves the 'descendants of the creators'."
"Those swine who sit on the Empty Throne and treat humans like insects."
"They think they are gods."
"They think they stand at the apex of the world and can trample on all living beings at will."
Doflamingo spread his arms, embracing this shudder-inducing truth, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.
"But in the eyes of a truly 'advanced civilization'."
"They too are nothing more than a bunch of uncivilized monkeys!"
"Fuffuffuffuffu!"
Doflamingo laughed until he couldn't stand straight.
Doffy was completely hyped up now, experiencing a literal mental climax.
As a former Celestial Dragon, as a fallen one who had been cast down from the altar of godhood.
He was filled with an unforgettable hatred for that decaying social class.
Nothing made him feel more physically and mentally gratified than hearing the Celestial Dragons being belittled as 'aboriginals'.
It was a vengeful pleasure.
Look at that—before the truly powerful, you and I are no different.
The ultimate thrill of watching high-and-mighty enemies being stepped into the dust.
The sea breeze, carrying a slightly salty scent, blew against Doflamingo's pink feather coat.
He lay back down on the beach chair.
The frenzied laughter from just now had ceased.
But that suffocating pressure was even heavier than before.
Like a beast that had just finished a full meal, squinting its eyes while savoring the taste of flesh and blood.
"Hey, hey, Doffy."
Trebol cautiously approached and handed over a new glass of red wine.
"Since the Marines suffered a great loss, shouldn't we celebrate?"
"Celebrate?"
Doflamingo took the glass, gently swirling the scarlet wine.
Behind his sunglasses, a hard-to-detect gloom flashed through his eyes.
"No, Trebol."
"What I feel right now is only regret."
"Regret?"
Trebol, Diamante, and the others were all stunned.
The Marines' major defeat and the Celestial Dragons being called aboriginals—wasn't this the best news?
Doflamingo sighed.
He extended a finger, lightly tapping the intelligence report Vergo had sent back.
"It's such a pity..."
"It really is such a pity."
"It's a pity that the man named Abel left too quickly."
Doflamingo jerked upright.
His tone carried the sound of gritting teeth.
"Don't you understand yet?"
"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"
"An opportunity to completely subvert this world and reshuffle the deck!"
He stood up and paced back and forth by the pool.
His pointed leather shoes tapped on the marble floor with a crisp sound.
"The SCP Foundation..."
"A containment organization that spans across dimensions."
"Possessing divine medicine that can instantly heal near-death injuries."
Doflamingo suddenly stopped and spread his arms.
As if embracing that non-existent behemoth.
"Think about it!"
"If it were me..."
"If it were our Donquixote Family who first came into contact with them."
"What would the outcome be?"
"Since that Abel came to hunt down a traitor."
"That means they need intelligence, they need guides, they need agents in this world."
"The Marines?"
"The World Government?"
"Fuffuffuffuffu..."
Doflamingo let out a cold laugh full of disdain.
"Don't make me laugh."
"Those swine living in Mary Geoise—I know them all too well."
"Arrogance is a poison etched into their very marrow."
"When they hear the word 'aboriginal'."
"Their first reaction will never be awe, nor cooperation."
"But fury."
"The feeling that their dignity as gods has been insulted."
Doflamingo casually grabbed a grape and crushed it fiercely in his mouth.
Juice splattered everywhere.
"They will put on those high-and-mighty airs."
"Using the tone of commanding slaves to speak with those advanced civilizations."
"They might even be stupid enough to want to seize the other party's technology and turn them into their own collectibles."