CHAPTER 612: CHAPTER 131: NEGOTIATIONS? SEND THOSE FIVE OLD GEEZERS!

"The Heavenly Tribute... it’s been stolen!"

The Den Den Mushi mirrored Sengoku’s pinched, anxious face, even the bead of cold sweat tracing his temple.

Darren feigned shock. "What? How could that happen? Admiral Sengoku, are you sure the intel is sound? The Heavenly Tribute is paid to the Celestial Dragons by the World Government’s member nations—who in these seas would dare steal it?"

"It’s complicated. Come to my office—now."

"I’ll be there shortly, Admiral."

When the line went dead, Darren stood still for a heartbeat, then let a slow smile creep across his lips.

Doffy’s moving faster than I expected. When it’s revenge on the Celestial Dragons, he doesn’t need prodding.

He understood Doflamingo perfectly. Back when Fisher Tiger was rescued, that blond brat’s hatred for a Celestial Dragon had burned hot and clear.

Darren took his time. He strolled into a café, ordered coffee and pastries, and only then headed toward the Fleet Admiral’s office.

Half an hour later, he arrived—glancing at the distant military port where a gun battery had left a fresh crater. His eye twitched; he shook his head and rapped on Sengoku’s door.

"Admiral Sengoku."

Sengoku was pacing behind his desk like an ant on a griddle. "You finally made it! I don’t have time for details. The World Government is taking this with the utmost seriousness. You need to move immediately."

"Admiral," Darren said evenly, "if this concerns the Heavenly Tribute, shouldn’t the Government’s specialized arms handle it? With CP0’s capability, they should have it under control."

Sengoku ground his teeth and shook his head. "No. The thief is... special. The Government and Cipher Pol can’t risk a misstep." He looked up. "In fact, you’ve probably crossed paths with him. Donquixote Doflamingo."

Darren’s pupils tightened. "So it’s that bastard..."

"I understand. It’s a thorny one."

"Kong has already reported to the Holy Land," Sengoku said with a weary sigh. "As for Garp... this is not his sort of job."

"Negotiations with the Government’s envoys have stalled. After careful thought, you’re the only Headquarters officer with the tact—and the spine—to resolve this. You clashed with Doflamingo in the North Blue. Your presence may make him think twice."

Darren hesitated, as if reluctant. "To be frank, our relationship was oil and water. We fought hard enough to level a town. He was set on killing me, and with his former Celestial Dragon status I couldn’t move on him. All I could do was order North Blue to keep the Donquixote family under cautious surveillance."

"I know," Sengoku said, cutting him off with a grave nod. "You were wronged."

Even stripped of the right to live in the Holy Land, a Celestial Dragon was a nightmare for the Marines: arresting him, killing him, ignoring him—every option a trap. Darren’s "contain but don’t engage" posture had been flawless politics—beyond blunt instruments like Garp or Sakazuki.

"It’s precisely because you’ve handled him before that I’m entrusting you with this," Sengoku said, bitterness lining his voice. "I know you’ve carried too much already. If there were another way, I wouldn’t ask."

Alright, enough theatrics, old man.

"Handling it isn’t the problem," Darren said mildly. "But I can’t guarantee he’ll hand back the Heavenly Tribute."

"Don’t worry about that! Do your best and go all out," Sengoku blurted, fearing he’d balk.

"What authority do I have?" Darren asked.

Sengoku paused. They both knew what he meant: license to use force. Tie Darren’s hands, and the mission failed before it began. He squared his shoulders.

"As long as you don’t kill him, I’ll take responsibility for the rest."

A faint smile touched Darren’s mouth. "No objections, Admiral."

Sengoku’s unease spiked at that smile. After a beat, he added, "Vice Admiral Tsuru will accompany you as Staff Officer."

---

Somewhere along a secret route in the New World, a barren island waited.

"Doflamingo, you’ve gone too far!"

World Government officials in opulent formal wear—backed by black-suited Cipher Pol agents—glared up at the blond youth, spitting venom.

"Where have you hidden the Heavenly Tribute?!"

"Hand it over, or this sea will be your grave!"

"You’ve provoked Their Excellencies’ wrath!"

...

Curses and killing intent flooded the shore, but the encircled former Celestial Dragon only sneered.

Perched atop a mound of corpses, he looked down on the Government lapdogs with eyes full of contempt.

"You’re not qualified to negotiate with me," he said. "Send those five doddering old fools."

His fingers curled, talons forming, and blades of thread flashed into being from the empty air.

To be continued...