Burning brings out a different scent in everything.
A blank sheet of paper smells nothing like a damp tree—but the smell of expensive boar meat and human flesh burning? That's surprisingly similar. Not that it mattered to the teen Doflamingo. It had been a long time since he'd tasted any kind of meat.
Flames roared before his eyes, casting a blood-red glow across the dark night sky.
Shouts. Curses. Screams. Rage. Hatred. Condemnation... The wall cracking from the fire's explosions jolted him awake from the pain. A chaotic roar surged around him.
His eyes were blindfolded. His body was bound to the city wall like a criminal about to be executed.
"It's the Celestial Dragons!"
"Don't kill them—make them suffer!"
...
A massive crowd had gathered beneath the city walls, furiously shouting at the Donquixote family, strung up like trophies above them.
Stones, rotten vegetable leaves, moldy eggs, and trash rained down like a storm.
Doflamingo felt something sticky splatter onto his face and slowly run down.
He heard his father's heart-wrenching sobs.
How ironic... Father.
You abandoned your noble Celestial Dragon status, convinced that such a choice was noble—an act of compassion. You thought that by giving it all up, you could live in peace among the common people.
But did you see this coming?
Oh, right. Your eyes are covered too. You can't see.
But you can hear them, can't you?
Their greedy gasps. Their twisted laughter. Their boiling, ravenous desire...
Father!! These are the same commoners you so desperately wanted to embrace!
Did they thank you?
No!!
All they saw was a god who had fallen from his pedestal!
This is humanity's stupidity. This is humanity's rotten core!
Who could resist the temptation to trample a fallen "god"?
They just want to stomp on you while you're down and spit on your corpse!
Are you crying?
Fufufufufu... What's the point of crying now?
Doflamingo suddenly felt like laughing.
The flames crept closer, waves of heat licking at the stone wall.
He could smell roasted meat.
His feet were already starting to cook.
The jeers kept coming.
Rotten garbage flew in from all directions.
Blood and tears streamed from Doflamingo's blindfolded eyes. Listening to the endless screams and insults, he finally couldn't hold back anymore. He burst into wild, twisted laughter:
"Fufufufufufu!!!"
He clenched his fists tightly.
"Remember this... all of you..."
"I'm not going to die..."
A wide grin split his bloodied lips, revealing bruised, broken teeth.
That smile was the last of his pride.
The crowd faltered at the sight.
Torturing a Celestial Dragon might've let them vent their hatred, but deep down, that fear still lingered.
"No matter how much you torture me, I'll live through it... Fufufufufufu!!!"
Doflamingo tilted his head back, sneering down at the crowd frozen below:
They might get to watch me burn alive on this wall—but they'll never see me beg!
I am a Celestial Dragon!
The greatest being in this world!
Doflamingo howled in his heart, and his cracked lips curled into a wild, defiant grin.
"And I'll kill every last one of you...!"
"Not a single one will be spared!!"
...
The scene suddenly shifted.
In a dilapidated room filled with grime, trash, and scraps piled in the corners, the stench was overwhelming. Flies buzzed lazily through the air. The warm sunlight outside couldn't pierce the damp, cold gloom inside.
A small hand that had been gripping tightly slipped weakly away.
Doflamingo stared blankly at his motionless mother lying in bed, his pupils unfocused and empty.
Beside him came the sound of Rosinante sobbing.
"I'm sorry, Doffy..."
His father, sitting at the bedside, spoke in a hoarse whisper. His eyes were red, his face haggard and gaunt.
"Sorry? What good is that now?"
Doflamingo suddenly laughed.
A crazed, broken laugh.
A laugh so wild it brought tears to his eyes.
"It's all your fault. Fufufufufu... All your fault!!"
Still laughing, he pulled out a pistol.
The barrel pointed straight at his father.
"If it weren't for you, Mother wouldn't have died!"
"If it weren't for you, we'd still be living happily as a family in this world!"
"If it weren't for you, I'd still be a proud Celestial Dragon!!"
Saint Donquixote Homing stared at the gun in his son's hand. His face was stricken with fear, but then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
A soft, gentle smile.
Bang!
The shot rang out.
The Celestial Dragon fell to the floor, blood spreading quickly beneath him.
"I'm sorry... Doffy..." he murmured.
Through the blood-soaked blur of vision, his own son, was laughing and crying at the same time.
...
The vision flickered again and again.
Under an oppressive, suffocating silence, a blond child, step by step, ascended the pure white, sacred Celestial Stairway—carrying a freshly severed, blood-drenched head.
Blood still dripped from it.
The head's expression was frozen in place, surprisingly soft and peaceful.
Soon, he stood before five aged figures.
They stood high above the clouds, gazing down upon the world like gods.
This should've been my life.
Doflamingo murmured to himself.
Then he raised his father's severed head, looking coldly at the five supreme rulers of the World Government.
"I want to become a Celestial Dragon again."
But all that greeted him were five pairs of eyes—full of scorn, mockery, ridicule, and indifference.
"The Donquixote family are traitors."
"You have no right to remain in the Holy Land."
"Get out."
"You're no longer a Celestial Dragon."
"And clean the Celestial Stairway while you're at it."
...
In the end, Doflamingo cleaned the Celestial Stairway.
Then he boarded a merchant ship, drifting into the North Blue like a stray dog.
A few thugs and scoundrels found him.
They knelt before him.
"Listen closely, Doffy... You are a king."
"There will be no one who defies you."
"One day, you'll rule over this entire sea."
Yes... I am a king.
One day, I'll become the king of this sea.
"I am Doflamingo!! I will become the king of this sea!!"
"World Government... Five Elders... Celestial Dragons... I'll destroy this world! I'll tear down everything you control!!"
"I will—"
Smack!
A sharp blow snapped Doflamingo out of his dream, jolting him awake.
His face burned with pain.
No—his entire body ached.
He looked around, confused.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your dream... but you were getting loud."
A deep voice spoke.
Doflamingo turned to see a black-haired Marine, sitting cross-legged with a lit cigar in his mouth, shrugging at him with a helpless expression.
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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