The Greatest Disgrace in Marine History-Chapter 252 - 154: So Close

"Desire-Driven Justice..."

As their young master stood there, his body quaking with manic laughter, Trebol and the other officers of the Donquixote Family turned pale, stiffly echoing those words in hushed voices.

They weighed the wild arrogance, the fierce swagger, the overwhelming aura in that single phrase—feeling it ripple through their bones, leaving them chilled and breathless.

Doflamingo slowly raised a hand, pressing it over his face. From beneath his palm, the corners of his lips curved into a ferocious, twisted smile.

"Heh heh heh... So it turns out you and I... are the same kind of people!"

A long moment passed.

Finally, he lowered his hand, the laughter fading from his face. His fingers—clawed like talons—twitched idly, and behind his sunglasses, his eyes gleamed with a cold, unreadable light.

"You really are a complete lunatic... my dear Godfather..."

"In that case, I'll be counting on your guidance from now on."

His voice dropped to a quiet murmur.

He pushed his tousled blond hair back, adjusted his crimson shirt, and in the silence of the cold, shadowed hall, he began to walk away—step by step down the long corridor.

"About his 'justice'—none of you are to speak a word of it, understood?"

The overhead lights cast shifting patterns of shadow across Doflamingo's face, his pink-feathered coat fluttering behind him as his cold, imperious command echoed in the hall.

Trebol and the others fell to one knee, bowing their proud heads in unison.

"Yes, young master."

Doflamingo's face was blank as he walked on, the click of his pointed shoes ringing across the marble floor.

The closer he drew to the doors of the banquet hall, the clearer grew the sounds of clinking glasses and laughing voices—guests from every corner of the North Blue.

He stood a moment in the darkness, the shadows swallowing his youthful features.

Then—bang!

He shoved the doors open with sudden force.

Light and noise crashed over him all at once, engulfing his figure.

He stepped into the bright, roaring crowd with a practiced, empty smile, the picture of a gracious host.

He stepped into the light.

---

The birthday feast of Donquixote Doflamingo, King of the North Blue's underworld, ended in a storm of revelry and laughter.

---

One month later.

A desolate island in the North Blue.

"Ten Million Volt—Thunderbird!!"

A giant bird of lightning, several meters tall, erupted from the dense jungle, its blazing blue wings of raw thunder tearing through the canopy in a fury of destruction.

Ancient trees crashed to the earth one after another, kicked up in clouds of dust as flames burst into life—red tongues of fire spreading across the forest floor.

A shockwave of explosive heat fanned out from the impact zone, thick black smoke billowing skyward.

In the midst of that inferno, a towering figure was hurled backward, boots tearing a long groove through the charred soil.

Darren stood there shirtless, black smoke curling from burns on his skin—some already charred by the electricity.

Yet his eyes blazed with excitement, his cigar burning down to a stub as he let out a booming laugh.

"That's all you've got, Momonga?!"

"Come on—can you do better than this?!"

A furious roar echoed from deeper in the woods:

"Darren, you bastard! Don't underestimate me!!"

As those words died, a flicker of electric light burst from the smoking heart of the jungle, arcing skyward in a sudden flash.

Darren's eyes sharpened.

This feeling...

He could sense it—within a hundred meters, the magnetic field bent and buckled, surging in a tide of power.

This technique...

A memory flared in his mind, and he raised his head, grinning with anticipation.

Above him, the sky had turned black—dense thunderclouds swirling in a monstrous whirlpool, boiling with a terrifying force.

"Thirty Million Volt—Wrath of Thunder!!"

A pillar of blue lightning shot down from the heavens like a spear of judgment, slamming into the earth where Darren stood!

BOOM!!

The ground for ten meters around was pulverized, churned up and vaporized. A scalding wind howled outward, tearing at the forest like a demon's breath.

Blinding light swallowed the world as the storm's roar flattened the trees, some ripped from the earth entirely.

Molten plasma poured across the shattered ground, a river of electric fury.

At the center of it all, the Marine Commodore's figure stood tall, arms flung wide.

A savage grin split his face, his whole body wreathed in the dazzling storm of light.

---

Half a minute later, silence crept back to the island.

The jungle was devastated—whole swaths burned to ash, embers glowing red in the smoky haze.

At the heart of it all, a blackened crater yawned wide—massive and raw.

Around it, everything had been erased by the thunder's fury. Bits of stone, superheated and melted, had fused into glassy crystals, glowing a dark red in the gloom.

Little arcs of electricity still jumped and hissed across the crater's floor.

Momonga stumbled from the trees, bruised and battered. His heart clenched at the sight before him, and he broke into a run.

"Darren..."

He reached the crater's edge, eyes wide with alarm as he saw the Marine Commodore's motionless figure standing there, blackened like a statue.

No way...

"Hey! Darren!! Are you alright?!"

Momonga's eyelid twitched violently.

The power of the Rumble-Rumble Fruit had far outstripped his expectations. Had he really just killed Darren...?

"Cough, cough, cough!!"

Suddenly, the figure in the crater coughed violently, black smoke puffing from his nose as he spat out the last charred scrap of his cigar.

"...So close... I almost overdid it."

Momonga: "..."

Darren shook the ash from his head and, like nothing had happened, fished out a new pack of cigarettes. He clucked his tongue appreciatively.

"You're really something, Momonga. Seems giving you the Rumble-Rumble Fruit was the right call. You've already learned this move so quickly."

He bit down on a fresh cigarette, lighting it with a glowing shard of molten stone he picked up from the ground.

Hearing that, Momonga's chest swelled with pride.

To be praised by Darren—the monster admired by Zephyr, Garp, and Sengoku themselves—filled him with an unparalleled sense of accomplishment.

"I can see it clearly—you're perfectly in sync with the Rumble-Rumble Fruit."

Darren clapped him on the shoulder, nodding with genuine approval.

"...So close. I almost had to use Armament Haki to block it."

Momonga's proud smile froze in place.

---

To be continued...