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Chapter 72: Thank You, Godfather
Squeak...
The door of the classical-style luxury villa slowly opened. A biting icy wind rushed out from behind the thick bronze gate and swept over Doflamingo, engulfing his figure and causing his pink feather coat to billow.
The world seemed to freeze at that moment as if an invisible barrier had shattered in the air, and a sudden silence descended. Trebol and the four, along with the hundreds of Donquixote Family members behind them armed with blood-stained knives, held their breath and didn't dare to move. As they stared at the scene in the hall of the villa, a lump formed in their throats, and a sheen of cold sweat appeared on their brows. The once noisy world felt silent.
Tick tock, tick tock.
The sound of a liquid dripping echoed in the silent hall, making everyone's heartbeat race.
They beheld the sight:
Flames danced in an ancient fireplace in the domed hall, casting flickering shadows that outlined the hall's interior. A weathered Madara oval conference table sat in the center, flanked by intricately carved stained glass windows that glimmered dimly. Oil paintings imbued with a religious atmosphere adorned the circular dome.
Above the fireplace, a man hung on the black wall. To be precise, it was a corpse. The man's hair was slicked back neatly, and he wore a Mafia-style suit with a lapel collar, a blood-red rose pinned to his chest, and his head drooped weakly. A gleaming metal spear had pierced his heart, skewering his body to the wall. Blood trailed down his suit, trousers, and shoes, creating a steady 'tick' as it hit the ground.
They recognized the man. He was the head of the Rodriguez family, the crime lord who controlled a third of North Blue's illegal industries, Rodriguez Michael. Now, he lay dead, like a figure in a religious and arcane ritual, mounted on the wall. His hollow eyes stared at them all, his mouth curled into an almost mocking smile.
Trebol and the others shuddered, feeling a chill run down their spines. They cast their eyes toward a figure seated at the head of the round conference table in the dimly lit hall. The flickering firelight could not fully reveal the man's face, which seemed eternally enshrouded in shadow.
They could make out the silhouette of the man. He wore a sharp black suit, a white shirt, a sleek black tie, and black military boots. Sitting with his legs crossed, he tapped his cigar on the conference table, and his deep eyes gazed at them from the darkness. He was smiling, and even though they couldn't see it clearly, they all felt it.
"You've come just in time," Darren said, his voice cutting through the silence. As light and shadow danced, the firelight finally revealed his face.
He was indeed smiling.
"Well done," he said, looking at the young figure of Doflamingo with praise.
Doflamingo was silent, completely still. There was a dead silence. Trebol and the others could clearly see his fists tightly clenched and trembling. Although they could only see Doflamingo's back, they could imagine their young master's face was far from pleasant at that moment.
Suddenly, the whistling sound of a telephone bug rang out.
"Blu, blu... blu, blu..."
Darren took out the military phone bug from his pocket and connected the signal.
"It's me."
A deep voice came through the phone bug:
"Report to Base Commander Darren, as of 5 minutes ago, all our operations have ended. Seventeen well-known underworld forces, including the Snooker, Vincent, and Rockefeller families, have all been wiped out under the light of justice!"
At these words, everyone in the Donquixote Family gasped. The North Blue's underground world had been suppressed by the Marines! A wave of fear hit them, draining the color from their faces.
The North Blue Marines had executed a bloody purge of the underground, and now their high-ranking officer stood before them, along with the body of the head of the Rodriguez family. Everyone shuddered at the thought: was their Donquixote Family also a target?
"Well, I see. You've done a good job; I'm very satisfied," Darren replied.
"Let's return to the voyage. I have a small matter to address here, and then I'll be back soon."
"Yes, Master Base."
The communication ended. Putting the phone bug away, Darren lit a cigar and slowly rose from the main seat. As he stood, thousands of people from the Donquixote Family instinctively stepped back. Only Doflamingo didn't move, his clenched fists shaking violently.
Darren approached him with steady steps. Trebol and the others tensed up, ready to move, but a cold glance from Darren froze them in place.
Finally, Darren stood in front of Doflamingo, looking down at the blonde young man, who appeared tense and troubled, and spoke with a smile,
"Here's a gift for you, Doflamingo."
His tone was kind, like an elder showing affection to a favored younger relative.
"From this moment on, the underground world of North Blue... is yours."
Narrowing his eyes and smiling, Darren extended his hand and waited for Doflamingo's reaction.
"How do you like it?"
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Everyone in Trebol watched with bated breath, sweat beading on their brows. Why would they surrender? Why should they surrender?
Then, Doflamingo's shaking hands stopped. He unclenched his fists, and though no one heard it, it seemed as though he let out a sigh of relief. Their eyes widened in disbelief as they saw their formidable young master smile and step forward. He gently took the Marine's hand, bowed slightly, and respectfully kissed the back of it.
"Thank you, my godfather."