Nusjuro's words hung in the air like a challenge, but they were abruptly cut off as Figarland Garling's gaze sharpened, cutting through the Elder's challenge like a knife. "That is none of your concern, Elder Nusjuro," Garling said, his voice low and dangerous.
The room seemed to darken as he spoke, the weight of his authority pressing down on everyone present. "I don't appreciate others meddling in my household affairs. Or have you forgotten that we are all Celestial Dragons, serving the one true ruler of this world?"
His words were a direct challenge, a reminder that his loyalty was to Imu-sama and Imu-sama alone, not to the whims of the Elders. Nusjuro's frown deepened, and his attempt to rattle Garling clearly backfired. Whatever they may think about Figarland, his dedication to Imu Sama was unquestionable.
The tension in the room thickened as the other Elders watched the exchange in silence, their expressions carefully neutral. They knew better than to underestimate Figarland Garling; the man had shown time and again that he was not afraid to push boundaries and challenge authority, even theirs.
"Speak, then," Elder JuPeter finally said, his voice tinged with reluctance. "What is it that you've come here to discuss, Saint Figarland?"
Garling leaned back on the couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes still burning with intensity. "Let's not waste time with petty distractions," he said, his tone dismissive. "I'm here for a reason, and it's not to discuss trivialities. Though the Native Hunting Competition is a matter of interest, it is not something I am currently bothered with, as I am sure the Elders are capable of dealing with the matter. I am here for something that was promised to me years ago."
The Elders exchanged wary glances as they understood that Figarland was here for something they had feared that he wouldn't come to know about. They could feel the power shift in the room—the delicate balance of authority teetering as Figarland Garling asserted his dominance.
He was a man who moved in the shadows, but when he stepped into the light, he commanded it, bending it to his will. And now, it seemed, he had come to exert that will once again, whether the Elders liked it or not.
Elder Mars's frown deepened, the lines of his face hardening as he tried to maintain an air of control. "I'm not sure we understand you, Saint Figarland. Enough with the suspense—state your business plainly. Unlike you, we have important matters to attend to," he said, his voice carrying a hint of irritation.
The Elders knew very well what Figarland Garling was alluding to, but they feigned ignorance, hoping to deflect his demand. Granting him what he was promised could disrupt the delicate balance of power they had painstakingly maintained.
Garling's smirk widened, transforming into something far more predatory. "Ah, now we're getting to the heart of the matter," he said, his tone smooth yet laced with a dangerous edge.
"Fine. If you want to play ignorant, so be it. Allow me to refresh your memories." He leaned forward, his gaze cold and devoid of any warmth, a stark contrast to the casual demeanor he had maintained earlier.
"Years ago, I found the Mythical Dragon Fruit. It was rightfully mine by discovery, but you used your authority to take it from me. You dangled it as bait to lure Xebec, all to uncover his true intentions," Garling began, his voice steady but seething with controlled anger.
"I played along with your game, even participating in that farce of a hunting competition, where I clashed with Whitebeard under the promise that the victor would claim the fruit. But then you let it slip through your fingers, allowing a filthy pirate to consume what was mine."
"Yes, yes, we all know the story, Saint Figarland. Get to the point—we don't have all day," Elder Mars snapped, his impatience evident. But behind his frustration, the Elders exchanged uneasy glances. They had hoped Garling was still in the dark about recent developments, but it was clear now that he was fully aware, and that knowledge made them nervous.
Garling's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as he continued, ignoring Mars's interruption. "You promised me, in exchange for the lost Mythical Dragon Fruit and in recognition of my accumulated merits, that when we found the user of the Awakened Ope Ope no Mi, I would be next in line to receive the Eternal Youth Surgery. That promise was made in front of Imu-sama, and yet now I hear whispers that the good doctor has been found. And you… kept this matter hidden from me."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. The room grew tense, and the air was thick with unspoken threats. "Were you planning to deny me what is rightfully mine once again, Elders?" Garling's voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it carried a deadly undertone. "I wonder how Imu-sama would react if they were to learn that you attempted to withhold from me what was agreed upon under their very gaze."
The Elders shifted uncomfortably in their seats, the gravity of the situation pressing down on them. They had indeed intended to keep the discovery of the Ope Ope no Mi user from Garling, hoping to find a way to leverage the power of the fruit without granting it to someone as ambitious and dangerous as him. But now, their hand was forced.
Elder JuPeter spoke up, his voice measured but betraying a hint of unease. "Saint Figarland, you must understand that we had to ensure the security of the Ope Ope no Mi user before making any decisions. The doctor is not yet fully under our control, and we couldn't risk bringing this information to light prematurely."
"Spare me the excuses," Garling cut in, his tone sharp. "The fact remains that you withheld this from me, breaking the very promise you made. I'm not here to negotiate, Elders. I'm here to claim what is mine, and if you think you can keep it from me, you're gravely mistaken."
The room fell silent, the Elders weighing their options. They had always known that Figarland Garling was a force to be reckoned with, but now, faced with his open challenge, they realized just how precarious their position was. The balance of power they had maintained for so long was teetering on the edge, and one wrong move could send everything crashing down.
Elder Nusjuro finally spoke, his voice calm but with an underlying tension. "We have no intention of breaking our promise, Saint Figarland. The Ope Ope no Mi user is indeed under our custody, but the situation is delicate. We must ensure that everything is in place before proceeding with the Eternal Youth Surgery. This is not just about power, but about stability—for all of us. And you must know very well that the user has to willingly sacrifice their life in order for the technique to be a success."
Figarland Garling's face twisted into a cruel snarl, his predatory grin now replaced by a look of pure malevolence. This was exactly why he had come here—to leverage his advantage. "Now that you've deceived me once again," he said, his voice laced with venom, "don't you think I deserve more than just the doctor? I want compensation in addition to transferring him under my custody."
Elder Saturn finally broke his silence, his voice gruff and laden with the weight of the situation. "What do you mean by compensation?" He had known from the moment they decided to conceal the truth from Figarland that this day would come.
They had hoped to keep the matter hidden long enough to maneuver around this snake, to control him, but their plan had backfired spectacularly. If this were to reach Imu-sama, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Garling's expression softened into something resembling false modesty, though his eyes betrayed the ambition burning within him. "Ah, nothing much, Elder Saturn," he replied, his tone deceptively casual.
"I want the Woshu Woshu no Mi's ultimate technique to be used on my behalf. Brainwash the good doctor to perform the Ope Ope no Mi's Eternal Youth Surgery. You denied me eternal life once—I won't let a second chance slip away."
The room fell into stunned silence as Garling's ambition was laid bare. The Elders exchanged uneasy glances. They had underestimated him once, years ago, when they denied him the Mythical Dragon Fruit in a bid to humble him.
They had believed that taking away such power would make him bend to their will. But instead, the incident had only fueled his ambitions, making him more cunning and dangerous than ever.
"You... Impossible!" Elder Mars and the others, save for Saturn and Nusjuro, shot up from their seats, their voices rising in unison. The sheer audacity of Garling's request stunned them. How had he even learned about Tsuru's true allegiance and her ultimate technique? It didn't matter now.
If Tsuru were to brainwash the doctor into performing the surgery, Figarland's victory would be assured. And that was something they couldn't allow—not if they wanted to prevent a new figure from emerging with authority that might eclipse their own.
"Figarland, you must understand the gravity of what you're asking," Elder Nusjuro said, his voice tinged with agitation. "Tsuru's ultimate technique is one of our trump cards, a crucial tool in dealing with that cursed Devil Fruit. If someone were to truly awaken 'Sun God' Nika's fruit, Tsuru's fruit is one of our only safeguards to bring such a person under control. And even if not for that, the technique is too valuable to be used for your personal gain. It's meant for matters of the utmost importance."
Garling's gaze hardened, the dangerous glint in his eyes growing sharper. "Do I look like I care, Elders?" he hissed, leaning forward with a predatory intensity that made even the seasoned council members uneasy.
"If you refuse my request, I'll have no choice but to take this matter directly to Imu-sama. You know as well as I do what Imu-sama thinks of those who break promises—especially one made with Imu-sama as a witness."
The threat hung heavy in the air, chilling the room. The Elders knew that Garling had them cornered. Imu-sama might remain aloof from the world's affairs, but there were certain transgressions that even the highest authorities dared not commit.
Breaking a promise made in Imu-sama's presence was a direct path to ruin, even for an Elder. They were trapped, forced into a position where they had to choose between two equally dangerous outcomes.
Elder Saturn, who had remained silent until now, spoke once more, his voice weighed down by the gravity of the situation. "You know what you're asking could destabilize everything we've built," he said, though his tone lacked the conviction it once held. Even he realized they were out of options.
"Stability?" Garling mocked, his lip curling in disdain. "You speak to me of stability when you're the ones who have repeatedly undermined me, tried to control me? No, this isn't about stability. This is about what is owed to me. You may think you can keep me in check, but let me make this clear: I will have what is mine, and you will not stand in my way."
The Elders were left with no choice but to concede. Garling had played his hand perfectly, and now they had to pay the price for underestimating him. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with unspoken tension, the balance of power shifting precariously towards Garling. For now, he had won—but everyone in that room knew that this was only the beginning of a far more dangerous game.
********
"Fufufufu! You've got some nerve, little brother—a Marine giant ship, really? Do you even have enough hands to man that thing?" Doffy's jovial voice crackled through the transponder snail, his amusement evident.
I couldn't help but smirk as I glanced toward the massive deck where Dora was standing, effortlessly directing the Sea Kings to speed up. The sight was almost comical—just the two of us handling such a massive ship like it was child's play. Dora had seized the ship on a whim after nearly beating John Giant to death.
I'd offered to take his head, along with the other giants', as trophies, but Dora had refused. Despite their betrayal, she still considered them kin. So, we spared them but took the ship as a spoil of war. Dora had grown tired of traveling on a raft.
"That's what the Sea Kings are for," I replied with a chuckle, knowing full well how absurd our situation was. Doffy's laughter echoed again through the transponder snail.
"So, tell me, how's your little protégé doing?" I asked, shifting the conversation to the disciple he'd taken under his wing—Reiju, the princess of the Germa Kingdom and Sanji's elder sister.
In the original canon, she would have been a part of the Germa 66 main force, becoming Judge's lackey. Fate, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor. Even I was surprised when Doffy told me that Reiju had joined our family, and he had plans to nurture her as his protégé.
Doffy's tone softened slightly. "She's coming along nicely, little brother. Reiju is proving to be a quick learner and has a knack for our line of work. She's got potential—more than I initially thought."
"And the other kids? How are they doing? How's Monet holding up?" I couldn't help but ask. I knew what Monet had done, and I was certain Doffy had a hand in it, pushing her to kill her own father in cold blood. But I didn't hold it against him.
A man like Monet's father didn't deserve mercy, even in my books. Still, I sighed at the memory. If there was one thing Doffy resented me for, it was denying him the chance to kill Homing. He still held that grudge.
"Monet is strong and fiercely loyal," Doffy said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I can see it in her eyes. You've got a talent for finding such trustworthy allies in this treacherous world, little brother."
He chuckled, but then his tone grew more serious. "So, tell me, why did you ask me to return to the New World in such a hurry? I was just enjoying my hunt in North Blue. Though it's mostly under our control now, there are still a few stragglers left."
"Aaaaargh!!!"
Before I could respond, a piercing scream tore through the transponder snail, making me wince. I wondered who Doffy was toying with this time. On his ship, a man clad in a tattered suit was tied upside down to the main mast, his body marred with countless burn wounds.
The man's screams were bone-chilling, but none of the crew seemed bothered. They went about their work as their captain played with his prey.
"Doffy! Have you forgotten? We still need to pay them back for that attempt on your life in North Blue. The opportune time is upon us—we'll strike when the Marines and the World Government have their attention fixed on South Blue."
"Fufufufu! Oh, little brother, you sure know how to brighten my day." Doffy's laughter was almost gleeful. "I was itching to get back at those bastards. Now I understand why you explicitly asked our affiliated groups to steer clear of the upcoming Native Hunting Tournament. I wish I could have participated myself—perhaps I could have hunted the Celestial Dragons." His chuckle was dark, matching the twisted smile on my face.
"Best to stay clear of that mess; we do not want our heads in that meat grinder." I replied, my voice laced with caution. "This event is anything but simple. With the fuse I've lit, Whitebeard, Linlin, Shiki—everyone is on the move. It's going to be an absolute bloodbath. Even without us, I'm sure quite a few Celestial Dragons will fall, especially with the rumors I've spread about the prizes. Let them tear each other apart, Hahahaha!!!"
My laughter echoed across the deck, sending a chill down Dora's spine. She glanced over, her instincts kicking in at the sound of my evil laughter.
Doffy's enthusiasm was palpable. "So, what's our target this time? Last time at Impel Down, we didn't have enough time to pull off something grand. This time, I want to make a statement. So, tell me, little brother—what's our next target?"
I let the suspense build for a moment, savoring the anticipation, before answering.
"Punk Hazard."
The name hung in the air, heavy with the promise of chaos and destruction. Doffy's eyes lit up with a dangerous excitement, and I could almost hear his wicked grin through the transponder snail.
"Punk Hazard, huh? Fufufufu! This is going to be fun, little brother. I can't wait to see what kind of madness we'll unleash this time."
With that, our twisted plan was set in motion, and the bond between brothers was strengthened by our shared thirst for chaos and ambition. The world would soon tremble under the weight of our actions, and nothing would stand in our way.
*****
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