CHAPTER 635: CHAPTER 154: MASTER

The opulent banquet hall was in ruins, the interior completely ravaged. A priceless purple fishtail gown lay torn to ribbons, its diamond-studded necklace scattered across the floor, catching stray light amid the debris. The air was heavy with the mingled scents of gourmet dishes and expensive perfume.

Back in his impeccably tailored suit, Darren bit down on a freshly lit cigar as he adjusted his tie before the floor-to-ceiling window. When he was satisfied, he turned, refreshed and unhurried, and let his gaze linger on Stussy’s exquisite figure sprawled across the banquet table. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"So, Your Majesty... how did you like the ’Giant’s Body’ I cultivated just for you?"

Stussy still trembled, her carefully styled hair in disarray and plastered to her sweat-damp brow. Her dazed eyes, glazed with the aftershocks, stared unfocused into the distance.

"Y-you... bastard..." she breathed, barely a whisper.

Her long, black bat wings folded tight against her back. Vampire fangs glinted at her lip, and her Devil tail hung limp over the edge of the table.

"Oh? Still some fight in you..." Darren chuckled, strolling over and brushing his fingers along her cheek.

The moment his hand touched her skin, Stussy shuddered as though shocked by a current.

"Funny," he teased, eyes bright with mischief. "I don’t recall you calling me ’bastard’ earlier. Want to try that again?"

Color flooded her cheeks. "I-I won’t..."

"Is that so? In that case..." Darren sighed in theatrical resignation. He slipped off one of her peep-toe heels and cradled her delicate, jade-cool foot in his palm. With his other hand, he casually pinched the tip of her Devil tail.

Stussy’s pupils flared. "No..."

She turned her face away, unable to meet his mocking gaze, swallowing her humiliation. "M-Master..." she whispered, soft as water—bewitching, irresistible.

Darren burst into laughter, a wave of fierce, wordless triumph rising in his chest.

---

In the small banquet room, Senor Pink hardly dared breathe as his Young Master’s face grew darker by the minute.

Five hours. They had been waiting for five long hours.

Ten fruit platters came and went. Four bottles of red wine were emptied. The ashtray had become a small mountain of cigarette butts. Between them, they had visited the restroom eight times.

Senor Pink watched, helpless, as Doflamingo’s expression shifted from amused curiosity to mounting impatience, and finally hardened into a dangerous scowl—clear proof he was pushing down a blaze of anger. Patience was never his strong suit. If they weren’t waiting for Darren-san, the Young Master would have reduced the building to rubble by now.

Even so, he looked ready to snap. Senor Pink’s heart thudded in his chest.

Just then, the door swung open.

"Kept you waiting, Doffy."

A tall figure with an easy, commanding air strode in. Darren—cigar clenched between his teeth, a self-satisfied grin on his lips—entered with a relaxed swagger.

It was a grin Senor Pink knew all too well.

The Donquixote Family ran a fair number of pleasure establishments—nothing on the scale of the Pleasure District itself, but among the New World’s finest. As a family executive, Senor Pink had a hand in managing more than a few.

Darren-san’s expression was unmistakable: the look of a man fresh out of a pleasure house, radiating that dangerous, deeply male satisfaction.

What’s going on...?

Instinctively, Senor Pink glanced at the woman behind Darren.

Stussy, the Queen of the Pleasure District—an Underworld Empress—had changed into an elegant black gown that set off her figure; her golden hair fell loose, and diamond-studded peep-toe heels shimmered at her feet. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes slightly unfocused, her steps just a shade unsteady.

She’s hurt? Negotiations must have broken down, and things turned violent between Darren-san and Stussy...

He drew his conclusion in silence.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Doffy," Darren said, dropping onto the leather sofa and pouring himself a glass of red. "Her Majesty and I got into such a deep discussion I lost track of time."

Stussy sat on the other side, face deliberately composed.

"Well, we reached an understanding," Darren went on, smiling as he raised his glass to Doflamingo. "Her Majesty has graciously offered you thirty percent of the Pleasure District’s shares as a goodwill gesture—an opening for a long-term partnership with the Donquixote Family."

Doflamingo froze. The unexpected turn knocked the anger out of him like a splash of cold water. He couldn’t help but glance at Stussy.

Her teeth were grinding, but her poise held. "That’s right," she said with a practiced smile. "Mr. Darren will serve as witness to our alliance."

"Heh heh heh... so that’s how it is," Doflamingo chuckled at last, satisfaction gleaming. "Then I must thank Her Majesty for her generosity."

He poured Stussy a glass and lifted his own. "To the enduring friendship between the Godfather and Her Majesty!" He tossed it back in one go.

Darren raised his glass too, a teasing smile playing at his lips as he looked at Stussy.

Staring at that infuriatingly smug grin, Stussy very nearly cracked her teeth. She slammed her glass against Darren’s with a fierce clink and drained it in one vengeful swallow, as if to vent everything seething inside.

---

Half an hour later, in a luxurious suite on the hotel’s top floor:

"Have they left?" Stussy asked, face impassive as her subordinate knelt.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the man in the black suit replied, voice trembling with excitement. "Congratulations on securing Vice Admiral Darren and forging an alliance with the Donquixote Family."

"Your wisdom and foresight are astounding," he gushed. "You’ve opened my eyes again!"

He had seen it clearly: the Marine Vice Admiral’s euphoric look on his way out—so like the expression of those poor souls whose memories Stussy had toyed with in the past.

As for that thirty percent of the Pleasure District... that had to be part of her plan. Offer a show of goodwill to lower Doflamingo’s guard, win his trust, and then, at the right moment, swallow the Donquixote Family’s entire business whole. The method had served her countless times. It was foolproof.

"Get out," Stussy said, voice suddenly cold.

"Your Majesty?" He blinked, baffled.

Her face darkened like a storm bank, ice-bright eyes smoldering with murder.

"Get out!"

He jerked to his feet and bolted, slamming the door behind him. Outside, he gulped for air, blood drained from his face. "What’s wrong with Her Majesty? Wasn’t everything going according to plan...?"

Inside, Stussy took a vicious drag on her cigarette. Her expression flickered and shifted, some intrusive memory pressing in. Cold fury, then an involuntary heat; her legs tensed, twitching restlessly.

Slowly, she lifted the hem of her long black dress.

Fabric rose, baring slender calves, the sharp line of her knees, and then the smooth expanse of her thighs—where a faint 正 had been etched into her skin.

In her ears, the Marine Vice Admiral’s low, magnetic voice seemed to echo:

"Don’t let me catch you washing that off, or you’ll face severe punishment..."

Stussy’s face flamed. She crushed the cigarette into the ashtray, teeth grinding. "What vulgar taste... That despicable, shameless, lecherous bastard!"

"Darren... just you wait!"

To be continued...