Although the North Blue had now set foot on a path of prosperity and developnt, where there is light, there is always shadow. That was inevitable.
Minion Island. No one knew exactly when it began, but this place had beco the largest dark-world trading hub in the North Blue, with a history that likely spanned over a hundred years.
It was a haven for criminals, a place where nearly every form of evil in the North Blue could trace its roots.
One could even say that if you dragged ten people off this island and lined them up to be shot, there might be a few innocents among them. But if you killed every other person instead, there would definitely still be guilty ones slipping through.
At the harbor docks, several mbers of dockside gangs squatted around a small square table, playing cards.
Not far away, a corpse hung from a wooden stake, seabirds already pecking at its rotting flesh.
Beside the stake, a few gang mbers were brutally beating a figure sprawled on the ground, already barely moving.
People passed by without sparing them a second glance, clearly long accustod to such scenes.
Within the port market, argunts would flare up from ti to ti, quickly escalating into violent brawls. But within minutes, the noise would die down again, a testant to how ruthless the combatants were. Soon after, soone would drag away a body and toss it straight into the harbor.
A large school of fish had long since gathered there, waiting to be fed. The mont a corpse hit the water, it was surrounded and torn apart, blood spreading rapidly across the surface.
Such a brutal sight even drew idle onlookers. Most of them were children around ten years old, their faces already hardened. So clenched discarded cigarette butts between their teeth, others held liquor bottles stolen from who knew where.
Before they could linger for long, gang mbers wielding whips rushed over, lashing out and driving the crowd away.
After the children scattered, so unknown dispute broke out among them. They began arguing and shoving each other, and after only a few pushes, one of them pulled out a broken blade tied to a piece of wood and stabbed another child, taller by half a head, straight through.
In the distance, the gang mbers sitting around the card table burst into laughter when they saw this, as if the children's slaughter were an amusing spectacle.
This was Minion Island, the source of chaos in the North Blue, a breeding ground of sin.
Just as those gang mbers laughed while watching the children kill each other, a sudden shout rang out across the docks.
"The Flamingo!"
That single cry seed to carry an almost magical force. The previously chaotic harbor fell silent in an instant. The thugs who monts ago looked vicious and feral imdiately sprang into action.
So rushed to the docks to move ships that had been carelessly moored and were blocking the way. Others grabbed buckets and washed the bloodstains from the ground. Still others hurriedly took down the corpses hanging around the port and threw them into the sea.
From the mont the Flamingo entered everyone's sight to the mont it slowly sailed into the harbor, no more than ten minutes had passed.
Yet the harbor, which had just been filthy, chaotic, and soaked in blood, now looked completely transford.
It seed that even criminals raised in the very heart of such chaos felt genuine fear toward the Donquixote Family, and toward Doflamingo, the forr king of villains who had once dominated the North Blue.
They were terrified that sothing here might offend Doflamingo and bring disaster down upon them.
The Flamingo docked at the pier and lowered its gangway. The criminals at the port shrank back into the corners along the road, not a single one daring to raise their eyes.
Before long, Doflamingo and Ortoren walked down the gangway together.
The mont Ortoren's foot touched the dock, he frowned slightly, clicked his tongue, and said,
"Tsk tsk. As expected of the North Blue's largest den of darkness. Even the air here is filled with a nauseating stench of sin…"
Doflamingo smiled and let out a chuckle.
"Fufufufufu. It used to be a bit better. But now that many parts of the North Blue aren't so chaotic anymore, it's driven all those bastards straight here…"
Although Doflamingo acknowledged himself as a villain, he had never once placed himself on the sa level as these people. A joke, really. He was a legitimate Celestial Dragon by blood. Even if he was going to commit evil, he would be the worst of them all. What were these people, anyway?
Just a bunch of lowlifes.
Ortoren, mindful of his status, couldn't be bothered to clean up this trash heap as long as these lowlifes didn't co looking for trouble.
Soon after, he left the harbor with Doflamingo and the other executives of the Donquixote Family, heading into the town of Minion Island.
After their group left, the criminals who had been cowering like quails monts ago imdiately ca back to life.
"Boss, that guy just now was the Young Master, right?"
"And the other one was wearing the Marines' coat of justice…"
"Idiot. That was the Navy Admiral, Bull of Heaven. He's the Young Master's biggest backer. Get so eyes, will you?"
The title "Young Master" had spread from within the Donquixote Family at so point, and before anyone realized it, even the villains of the North Blue had begun using it when referring to Doflamingo, instinctively adopting the respectful form to avoid any hint of disrespect.
...
At the edge of Minion Island's town stood an abandoned church. At this mont, the fallen Marine Diez Barrels and his underlings were holed up inside, waiting for their transaction with the Donquixote Family.
In the original story, these events took place during winter on Minion Island. But across the Four Seas, climates were generally stable. Unless sothing unusual occurred, most islands experienced all four seasons. Only on the Grand Line did places like winter islands or spring islands exist, locked into a single season year-round.
Here and now, Minion Island had shed its ice and snow. Spring was in full bloom.
Inside the church, Barrels held a heart-shaped Devil Fruit in his hands, his face filled with greedy anticipation.
"The Donquixote Family contacted this morning," he said. "They'll be here soon. Once we trade away this Devil Fruit, we'll have fifty billion Belly in our hands. After that, we just pick a place, donate a bit of money, and everyone can live like noble lords!"
Barrels had long grown sick of the miserable life of a pirate. He had once been an officer at Marine Headquarters. One wrong choice had sent him down the path of piracy, dragging his standard of living into the gutter and forcing him into the shadows, hated by all.
Now that sheer luck had put the Ope Ope no Mi in his hands, Barrels had already made up his mind. He would sell the fruit, find a remote little country in the North Blue, buy himself a noble title through donations, and settle down as a wealthy country lord.
His subordinates would beco his personal lackeys, bullying the locals and living it up alongside him. Just thinking about it made him feel pleased. Compared to that, being a pirate was nothing but suffering.
While Barrels indulged in these fantasies, he failed to notice a figure outside the church, watching everything through a broken window.
That figure was Rosinante.
He had left Dressrosa nearly a week earlier than Donquixote Doflamingo, setting out from the New World toward Minion Island. Because of limitations with his ship, he ended up arriving only one day ahead of Doflamingo.
During the journey, he had already obtained precise information about the Ope Ope no Mi transaction from Sengoku, his foster father who trusted him deeply. That was how he managed to track Barrels down so accurately.
At the mont, Trafalgar Law and his sister were not with him. Before coming to the church, Rosinante had hidden the two children deep in the nearby mountains.
After all, dragging along two burdens was no way to steal the Ope Ope no Mi.
Activating his Devil Fruit ability, Rosinante made sure no sound from him could be heard. At the sa ti, Barrels' voice reached his ears clearly.
"Doflamingo's already on his way? That's fast…" Rosinante's heart skipped a beat.
There was no ti left to prepare further. He had to get the Ope Ope no Mi before Doflamingo arrived, or he would lose his chance entirely.
This differed from the original tiline. Back then, Doflamingo and the Marines arrived at the sa ti. Under Vice Chief Staff Officer Tsuru's arrangents, the Marine fleet had surrounded Minion Island, plunging the entire place into chaos and leaving every criminal on edge.
Now, the Marines were nowhere to be seen. Only Ortoren had co with Doflamingo. Naturally, there was no blockade, and the island carried on as usual.
That said, Rosinante was not completely unprepared. On his way here, he had at least purchased several bundles of explosives from the black market.
Before long, relying on his ability, he quietly planted the explosives beside several load-bearing pillars of the abandoned church.
Then he retreated so distance away and lit the fuses.
Inside the church, Barrels and his n had no idea anything was wrong when a sudden flash of fire erupted. In utter silence, a violent explosion tore through the structure, collapsing the entire church and burying the pirates beneath the rubble.
Rosinante did not rush in. He stayed hidden behind a distant stone pillar, gun in hand, his eyes locked onto the ruins.
Sure enough, Barrels, who had once been an officer at Marine Headquarters, wasn't dead. He clambered out from beneath the debris in a sorry state, shakily pushing himself to his feet as he tried to figure out what had happened.
All the while, he kept the Ope Ope no Mi clutched safely in his arms.
The instant Barrels stood up, Rosinante pulled the trigger several tis in rapid succession. There was no gunshot, but bullets didn't need sound to kill.
Caught completely off guard and still dazed from the explosion, Barrels failed to notice the lethal danger. Rosinante's shots tore into his chest and head, bursts of blood blooming as Barrels staggered twice before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.
That thud marked the mont Rosinante released his ability.
He sprang out from behind the stone pillar like a startled hare. His movents looked smooth at first, but true to his careless nature, his foot caught on sothing and he tripped, tumbling awkwardly like a rolling gourd until he crashed beside Barrels' corpse.
There was no ti to care about looking pathetic. Rosinante grabbed the Ope Ope no Mi and turned to run.
What he failed to notice was that, during the fall, his sidearm had slipped from his person and been left beside Barrels' body.
And engraved on that gun were the Donquixote Family's emblem, along with the symbol of the Red Hearts.
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