Ever since Doflamingo entered the conference room, he had maintained his usual infuriating smirk throughout the conversation.
However, that smirk gradually disappeared with the arrival of Lafitte, replaced by an icy killing intent that seemed to envelop the entire room.
Like the chill of midwinter, his murderous aura seeped into the surroundings, first brushing lightly against everyone present before converging upon the figure standing by the window—Lafitte.
This action alone was enough to send a silent yet unmistakable message to those seated around the round table: Stay out of this.
Not that it was necessary—after all, the other Warlords of the Sea had no stake in this matter. Why would they intervene? Lafitte had entered with an audacious display, yet it had nothing to do with them. This wasn't their territory, and it wasn't their reputation at stake.
For the Marines, however, it was a different story.
Lafitte had slipped through multiple layers of defense and infiltrated this highly symbolic holy ground with ease. His very presence here was a blatant, defiant stain on their authority.
Yet, despite this, the three Marine veterans—Fleet Admiral Sengoku, Garp, and Tsuru—remained unnervingly calm, as if the one who had broken in wasn't Lafitte, the so-called "Ferryman of the Underworld" under Maude's command, but merely an insignificant pest.
In contrast, the Vice Admirals present, also attending the Shichibukai meeting, immediately entered combat stances. They awaited only an order to strike Lafitte down.
But that order never came.
Without Sengoku's command, they could do nothing but keep their hands resting on their weapons, poised to unsheathe them at a moment's notice.
"Doflamingo, this isn't a place where you can do as you please."
As Doflamingo rose, his killing intent running rampant, Sengoku glanced at him with a calm yet unmistakably authoritative warning.
Doflamingo, however, did not spare him a look. His gaze remained locked onto Lafitte, his eyes cold as he sneered, "Fleet Admiral Sengoku, I've always been a man who follows 'the rules.'"
Before the words even fully left his lips, Doflamingo suddenly crossed his arms and swung them outward. Instantly, the marble walls on either side of him were transmuted into a tangled mass of razor-sharp white strings, forming deadly spears.
A sharp whistling sound sliced through the air.
The spears, their tips imbued with Armament Haki, turned pitch black as they hurtled toward Lafitte by the window.
At the same time, Doflamingo's voice rang out mockingly: "I'm simply doing the Marines a favor by getting rid of some stray mutt that wandered into an important meeting. Surely, that's not 'causing trouble,' is it?"
Sengoku remained expressionless as he turned his gaze toward the window.
"Hoho…"
As the incoming Haki-infused spears closed in, Lafitte's eyes gleamed with sharp focus.
The safest choice would be to retreat immediately—dodge the attack, leap out the window, then unfurl his wings and fly back inside once he was out of harm's way.
But he knew all too well—
If he took even a single step back, he would lose the initiative in this confrontation.
No matter the cost, he could not allow his captain's name to suffer even the slightest humiliation here.
Not even if it meant taking a fatal blow.
In the blink of an eye, Lafitte made his decision.
Not retreating. Not dodging.
He instantly shifted into his Zoan Mythical Beast form.
In an instant, his already elegant features took on an even more ethereal quality, his figure subtly reshaped with distinctly feminine traits.
Before anyone could fully register his transformation, Lafitte suddenly crouched down, his pure white wings—now hardened with Armament Haki—wrapping tightly around his body like a shield.
The razor-sharp string spears slammed into his wings with force.
Squelch!
A muffled impact rang out as the tips of the spears pierced into his wings, sending arcs of blood splattering through the air.
Scarlet-stained feathers fluttered down, drifting silently to the floor.
Lafitte had been wounded.
Yet he hadn't moved back a single centimeter.
Doflamingo's expression darkened, veins bulging at his temples.
He realized he had missed a golden opportunity to sever one of Maude's "right-hand men."
"Bold," he spat coldly.
But he did not launch another attack.
Because Sengoku, Garp, and Vice Admiral Tsuru had already shifted their gazes onto him.
Their silent warning was clear.
Lafitte slowly unfolded his bloodstained wings, his form returning to normal as though his previous transformation had been nothing more than an illusion.
Drip. Drip.
Blood trickled from his back, pooling onto the floor. In mere moments, a small crimson puddle had formed.
Yet Lafitte remained utterly unfazed, showing neither pain nor fear. He ignored Doflamingo's lingering killing intent entirely.
Even injured, his demeanor remained as light as ever.
Then, he turned toward Fleet Admiral Sengoku, patiently waiting for a response—one that would determine whether the discussion from before could continue.
Sengoku, however, seemed to be weighing his thoughts and did not respond immediately.
Vice Admiral Tsuru, fingers interlocked beneath her chin, studied Lafitte with a keen gaze before speaking, "To go so far just to protect Maude's reputation… you are quite the loyal one."
Once again, everyone's attention returned to Lafitte.
His refusal to retreat—even in the face of near-certain injury or death—was indeed unusual.
Now, it seemed Tsuru had pinpointed the reason behind his actions.
"For someone like him to command such unwavering loyalty… Bacardi Maude must be quite the man."
Crocodile thought to himself, his expression cold and unreadable.
Jinbe and Mihawk both regarded Lafitte with newfound interest.
Bartholomew Kuma, ever the enigma, remained impassive, motionless like a statue.
Under their scrutiny, Lafitte merely smiled slightly.
His composed demeanor only served to further irk Doflamingo, whose temples twitched with barely restrained aggression.
Crunch.
The sound of Garp biting down on a senbei cracker echoed through the tense atmosphere, breaking Doflamingo's train of thought.
"Tch..."
Doflamingo's face darkened.
Had his attack knocked Lafitte out of the room, even if it didn't kill him outright, it would have at least disrupted Maude's attempt to secure a Warlord seat.
That alone would have relieved some of his growing frustration toward Maude.
But instead…
Hidden behind his sunglasses, his eyes gleamed with unconcealed malice.
His mood was absolutely foul.
Not that Sengoku or the others cared.
"A bird-woman form… clearly a Mythical Zoan," Tsuru remarked, her gaze lingering on Lafitte. "And given your abilities, I'd say it's the Siren fruit. It suits your title as Maude's 'Ferryman of the Underworld.'"
Lafitte's smile faltered ever so slightly but quickly returned to normal. He remained silent.
Instead, he shifted his attention back to Sengoku.
"Bacardi Maude, huh..."
After a brief pause, Sengoku finally spoke, meeting Lafitte's gaze. "In terms of strength and notoriety, he does indeed qualify for the Warlord position."
"Fufu… A guy with such little seniority becoming a Warlord? That's bound to make people laugh their heads off."
Doflamingo, still unable to make a move against Lafitte due to the invisible restraint binding him, naturally wouldn't just sit back and keep quiet.
Maude wants to take over a Warlord seat?
Then no matter what, he was going to oppose it.
If necessary, he wouldn't even hesitate to pull some strings to block it.
Sengoku glanced at Doflamingo and said flatly, "The purpose of the Warlords is to intimidate and counterbalance other pirates. As long as one has the required strength and reputation, prior experience is irrelevant."
"Fufufu, you're the Fleet Admiral. Whatever you say goes."
Doflamingo let out a cold chuckle, his tone laced with obvious sarcasm.
Sengoku raised an eyebrow but didn't bother to respond. Instead, he picked up his pen and wrote the name "Bacardi Maude" on the document before him.
With this action, he officially placed Maude on the list of candidates for the Warlord position.
In truth, Lafitte wasn't wrong—by all accounts, Maude was currently the most suitable candidate to succeed as a Warlord of the Sea.
It wasn't just about his strength and notoriety; his identity as the one who defeated Gecko Moria also played a crucial role.
Having him assume the vacant Warlord position would be the fastest way to quell the turbulence stirred up by the Gecko Moria Incident.
With that in mind, those higher-ups who held the final say on the matter would likely approve the decision without hesitation.
However, even though Sengoku knew there was no better alternative, he didn't want to finalize the matter too hastily.
"Does anyone have any objections?"
His gaze swept over the Vice Admirals and Warlords seated around the round table.
"No objections from me. Having Maude take up the Warlord mantle might make things pretty interesting—haha!"
To everyone's surprise, the first person to speak was none other than the legendary Marine hero, Garp.
The people around the table looked at him with varied expressions. Most of their gazes, however, focused on the scar on Garp's face.
That scar had been left by none other than Maude himself…
Jinbe, his eyes cast downward, remained silent.
The real reason he had come to attend this Warlord meeting was not just to gather more information on Maude—he actually wanted to speak with him personally.
If Maude officially succeeded Moria's Warlord title, it might make that conversation a whole lot easier.
By the window, Lafitte's confidence was unwavering.
This trip had been a complete success—not only was his personal safety secured, but everything else had gone almost exactly as planned.
And judging by the way things were unfolding, Maude becoming a Warlord of the Sea was already set in stone!
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