Dressrosa
The sun of Dressrosa reflected off the palace's white walls, casting a golden shimmer over the pool. The sound of water mingled with the laughter of off-duty soldiers, their relaxed bodies lounging by the edge as a warm sea breeze blew through.
Doflamingo reclined on a lounge chair, legs crossed, a cigar between his fingers, and a newspaper rustling softly as he turned a page. The daylight highlighted the pink hues of his feathered coat, draping over his shoulders like the carefree plumage of a peacock.
His smile widened.
The sunglasses hid his eyes, but anyone who knew him could tell: he was amused.
"Fufufu… a rookie."
The newspaper fluttered as he lifted a page, the headline blaring in bold, aggressive letters:
"CROCODILE DEFEATED – A NEW SHICHIBUKAI EMERGES"
His laughter came effortlessly.
"How pathetic… losing to a nobody."
The cigar rolled between his lips, the ember crackling as he inhaled the smoke.
'So this Riser guy came out of nowhere and crushed years of Crocodile's plans…'
The thought swirled in his mind like a slow dance. It wasn't just the fall of a former Shichibukai that mattered. It was the shift in the underworld's structure.
And that was a problem.
'If this kid thinks he can just show up and take Crocodile's place without consequences… he's about to learn what it means to mess with the big players' market.'
His eyes, hidden behind the sunglasses, scanned the newspaper's lines. Riser's name now sat alongside legends. The Seven Shichibukai.
"Fufufu… and he doesn't even know he owes me a favor."
The newspaper slid to the side as he reached for a wine glass on the table. The ruby liquid swayed slightly as his fingers toyed with the stem.
A soft, hesitant voice cut through the air.
"Need anything, JOKER?"
Baby 5 stood a few steps away, her nervous hands clutching a tray with more wine. Her face, half-hidden by dark bangs, concealed her usual anxiety.
Doflamingo didn't need to look to know she wanted to feel useful. She always did.
He swirled the glass in his fingers.
"Baby 5… what do you think of a rookie who ruins an ally's business without even giving me a heads-up?"
She blinked rapidly, her mind racing to provide a helpful answer.
"Uh… he's an idiot?"
His laughter vibrated through the air.
"Maybe. But idiots can be useful."
Baby 5 nodded frantically, gripping the tray tighter.
"So, should I kill him?"
His laughter grew.
"Not yet."
His white teeth gleamed behind a sharp smile.
"But he'll pay…"
The words floated through the warm air.
The sound of dragging footsteps and a sticky rustle approached.
Trebol.
The scent of sugar and rum clung to the man, who wiped his dripping nose with a crumpled handkerchief.
"Oooohhh, Doffy! Did you see this? This Riser guy caused trouble for Crocodile! Nyoooo, fufufu, I bet he won't like that one bit, not one bit!"
Doflamingo tilted his head, the amusement never leaving his face.
"You think he'll come after me?"
Trebol cackled, drool slipping between his words.
"If he does, he'll regret it! Nyooo! He doesn't know who he's dealing with!"
The newspaper crumpled under Doflamingo's fingers with a dry snap.
"I want information on him."
His tone was light but laced with something sharp.
"If he's smart, he'll figure out soon that he needs me. If he's dumb… well, we'll see how long he lasts as one of the Seven."
The newspaper slid across the table, forgotten.
The wine glass rose.
The scarlet gleam reflected in his dark sunglasses.
"Either way, Riser… welcome to the board."
His smile widened.
Dressrosa continued its spectacle around him.
But inside the palace, the first piece of the game had already been moved.
---
Moby Dick
The wind blew fiercely, making the Moby Dick's sails swell like lungs breathing the ocean. The scent of salt mingled with the strong aroma of rum, tobacco, and wet wood. The sun scorched the deck, reflecting off the calm waves stretching to the horizon.
At the large table in the center, surrounded by his sons, Edward Newgate, the man known as Whitebeard, drank from his sake mug with a lazy smile. His massive body leaned against the reinforced wooden throne, his muscles still as powerful as the legend he carried.
A deep laugh echoed across the ship.
"Old man, got some interesting news for you."
Marco, leaning against the deck's railing, held a folded newspaper. The paper fluttered in the breeze, but the blonde's blue eyes were fixed on the headlines.
Whitebeard took a long gulp before replying.
"Is it good or bad, Marco?"
The first commander turned the page, his eyes dancing over the words before he raised his eyebrows.
"Depends. Looks like a rookie took Crocodile's place as a Shichibukai."
Silence fell for a moment.
A sharp crack sounded as Whitebeard slammed his mug onto the table.
"Gurararara… Crocodile was always a starving dog. It was only a matter of time before someone snatched the food from his mouth."
Marco spun the newspaper between his fingers, his voice tinged with interest.
"But this rookie's got a connection to Ace's brother."
Whitebeard's eyes narrowed slightly.
Marco shook his head, tossing the newspaper onto the table. The paper slid to a stop in front of the old emperor.
"The two were on the same island. Some say he hitched a ride with Straw Hat for a while."
The air grew heavy.
Some of the sons around the deck paused their tasks to listen closer.
Whitebeard frowned, his eyes scanning the crude letters of the newspaper. Riser's image, clipped from a wanted poster, stood out beside the headline.
"CROCODILE DEFEATED – A NEW SHICHIBUKAI EMERGES!"
He scratched his thick beard, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as he absorbed the information.
"Ace's brother has a strange knack for attracting interesting people."
Marco laughed.
"Or trouble."
The nearby sons chuckled along. One of them slammed a fist against a rum barrel.
"The kid's just lucky, that's all."
Whitebeard stayed silent, his eyes drifting to the horizon for a moment.
The name Riser swirled in his mind.
A rookie who'd already made so much noise.
Strong enough to defeat a Shichibukai.
Smart enough to take his place.
And tied, however indirectly, to Luffy.
'If he's strong enough to survive this game… he might be strong enough to join my family.'
The thought came unbidden.
His gaze returned to the newspaper.
"You know anything else about this kid?"
Marco crossed his arms.
"Not much. Just what's floating around. But it seems he's not part of Luffy's crew."
Whitebeard snorted.
"Gurararara… that doesn't mean much."
His fingers gripped the sake mug tightly.
"If this Riser's smart, he'll figure out that sailing alone in this sea isn't the way to go."
Marco studied the old captain's expression.
"Got something in mind, Pops?"
Whitebeard's eyes glinted for a moment, but his lazy smile returned.
"Maybe it's time to see if this kid's worth a spot on this crew."
The air on the deck seemed to grow heavier.
If Whitebeard said that… he was considering Riser seriously.
The sons exchanged glances.
Some looked intrigued.
Others, defiant.
Nobody just joined Whitebeard's crew.
But if the old man decided…
Marco broke the silence.
"Want me to send someone to keep tabs on him?"
Whitebeard tilted his head, pondering.
"Not yet. But keep an eye on his movements."
His fingers tapped the wooden table.
"This sea doesn't tolerate weak rookies. If he survives what's coming… he might be someone worth calling a son."
The word hung in the air.
Son.
Riser didn't know.
But far away, in the heart of the New World, one of the greatest men in history was already considering his fate.
Time would tell if he was worthy of the Whitebeard name.
Or if he'd end up like so many who challenged the Gods of the sea… and sank forever.
---
Moby Dick, Moments Later
The sun began to set on the horizon. The warm orange sky reflected on the calm waters, turning them into a fiery mirror.
Whitebeard leaned back in his throne, watching the slow dance of the waves.
One of the sons helping in the kitchen approached, carrying another bottle of sake.
Before drinking, he let out a grumble.
"Ace is still taking too long to deal with that traitor."
Marco smirked.
"Worried, Pops?"
The old man laughed, his guffaw resounding across the deck.
"My son doesn't lose to trash like Teach."
The wind blew harder.
For a moment, Marco stared out at the sea.
The sun bid farewell.
And somewhere far away, Ace was still hunting his former comrade.
A storm was coming.
But no one on the Moby Dick knew it yet.
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