In the restaurant, Doflamingo finished his dinner and dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
Across from him, Vergo sat with his face smeared in food residue. He asked curiously, "So, the Ohara exploration team will set out tomorrow and bring that Devil Fruit back to you within six months?"
"At least, that's what that woman, Olvia, told me," Doflamingo replied, placing the napkin down and taking a sip of red wine.
For the next six months, Doflamingo decided he wouldn't wander elsewhere; he planned to stay in Ohara and wait.
Six months wasn't too long nor too short, but in terms of maritime travel, it was just enough time for a round trip. Leaving Ohara to return to the North Blue would likely mean he wouldn't accomplish much before having to turn back—travel time alone would eat up a significant chunk of the schedule.
So he resolved to stay put until the fruit was in his hands.
"When the fruit is in your hands, will you let Ohara go?" Vergo asked.
Doflamingo paused, looking at Vergo with mild surprise. "Why would you ask something like that? You know exactly what kind of person I am... If Ohara is no longer useful to me, of course I'll let them go. But if they remain useful... why would I let them off?"
Doflamingo smirked. I, Donquixote Doflamingo, am not a saint.
Vergo nodded knowingly. "Fair enough. That was a foolish question."
After chatting idly for a bit, Doflamingo stood, ready to leave.
"Doffy, want to go train together?" Vergo asked.
It was customary for them to meditate after dinner. Meditation was a form of spiritual and sensory training, enhancing one's mastery of Observation Haki.
But tonight, Doflamingo waved him off. "I'm planning to visit the Tree of Knowledge. I want to see if this so-called 'omniscient' library has anything interesting to read."
"You seem quite into reading lately," Vergo remarked with a hint of nostalgia. "You didn't used to be like this."
Having grown up with Doflamingo, Vergo knew him well.
For the past seven years, Doflamingo had spent most of his time training, except when matters required his personal attention. But for the past six months, he seemed to have eased off a bit.
"I've hit a bottleneck with my Haki training. It's important to stay humble and composed during times like this. Besides, I've come to realize that knowledge and ideas are also forms of power. As the saying goes, 'Books are the ladder of human progress.' I'd like to climb a bit higher." Doflamingo chuckled.
In truth, Doflamingo sought to understand this world more deeply from other perspectives.
Though he possessed "foreknowledge" of future events in the One Piece world, his years of integration into this reality had shown him that the world was far more complex than a mere "manga story." To truly grasp its essence, he had to abandon his preconceived notions and adapt to the times.
With limited information channels available, books became a crucial resource for acquiring knowledge.
"But isn't the Tree of Knowledge off-limits to non-scholars at night?" Vergo asked.
Doflamingo laughed. "Right now, I'm basically the godfather of Ohara. I go where I want, do what I want."
The Tree of Knowledge was closed to scholars at night to prevent accidental fires that could destroy its priceless collection. But as Doflamingo said, with no way for Dr. Clover and the others to deal with him, they had no choice but to treat him like royalty.
At the entrance to the Tree of Knowledge, a nervous scholar on duty gave countless warnings before reluctantly allowing Doflamingo inside. Carrying an oil lamp, Doflamingo stepped into the grand library.
The Tree of Knowledge's collection encompassed far more than history. Otherwise, it wouldn't live up to its name. Ohara was not just an archaeological haven but also a cultural treasure trove. Its shelves housed books on astronomy, geography, novels, biographies, philosophy, art—even ancient illustrated manuscripts.
Many of these books were unique, painstakingly retrieved from ancient ruins worldwide by Ohara's scholars. Most scholars weren't involved in researching forbidden Poneglyphs or ancient texts; instead, they spent their lives restoring and reproducing these rare works.
With no specific goal in mind, Doflamingo began browsing, wandering through the library and pausing only when something piqued his interest.
After exploring the first floor without finding anything appealing, he ascended the stairs to higher levels. When he reached the top floor, he discovered that all the bookshelves were dedicated to philosophy.
"Placing the sparks of thought at the highest level, huh? I thought it would be history," Doflamingo murmured softly.
Casually, he pulled out a book titled "Wu Wei" (Non-Action). Flipping through its pages, his eyes lit up with surprise. The ideas in the book bore a striking resemblance to the Taoist philosophy he knew.
"This book comes from the West Blue's Flower Country," said a voice suddenly beside him. "It's said that many years ago, the Flower Country had a native religion called 'Dao.' This book explores its concepts."
Doflamingo's eyes narrowed in surprise. Whoever had spoken was skilled, appearing beside him without his slightest awareness.
However, judging by the voice and the current situation, it seemed the person had no hostile intent.
Doflamingo quickly calmed himself and asked naturally, "You're familiar with this book?"
"I've read it," the voice replied softly.
Doflamingo turned toward the source of the voice. The figure stood not far away. He was certain that when he first arrived at this floor, no one else had been present. This person had appeared without a sound.
Under the moonlight streaming through the skylight, combined with the glow of his oil lamp, Doflamingo caught a glimpse of the figure.
In an instant, his expression shifted to one of astonishment. "Dragon!?"
Standing before him was a young Monkey D. Dragon, perhaps around thirty years old. His disheveled black hair hung loosely down his back, and his face was free of the red markings he would later become known for.
"You know me?" Dragon asked, mildly surprised. "And you are?"
"Donquixote Doflamingo… a North Blue scoundrel, I suppose?" Doflamingo quickly composed himself and introduced himself with a smirk.
It was clear that Doflamingo recognized Dragon, but Dragon did not know him.
At this point in time, Dragon's fame was limited. Despite being the son of the renowned marine hero Garp, he kept a low profile. Only those who needed to know of him were aware of his existence.