In One Piece, I Am the Ultimate Doflamingo

"The photo was shown to Rami. She saw Doflamingo bringing food for his little brother. That bastard is a monster who killed his own father. That's why the kid didn't follow him."

"He knows we aren't aware of their real relationship, so he left this damn brat here without worry."

Michael, having confirmed the information, clenched his teeth in frustration. His voice grew even colder as he thought about his reckless brother.

"Let that damned Celestial Dragon, Doflamingo, taste what it's like to lose a brother."

"Understood!"

...

Late at night.

The patrolling thugs were drowsy, struggling to stay alert.

Rosinante activated his soundproof barrier.

He carefully approached the outskirts of the Jason Family's territory, heading toward the supply storage. His steps were light, almost eager.

Life had been much easier for him lately.

Two troublesome groups had shown up, but as a result, fewer people came looking for a fight. He only got beaten up occasionally now, instead of daily.

If he ran into old man Jason, he might even get invited to a meal.

Though the old man seemed kind and always invited him into the family home, Rosinante kept his distance.

If they ever found out who he really was...

The scent of freshly baked bread filled his nose.

Hidden in the shadows, Michael and Jason watched him coldly.

"That'll keep him fed for four more days."

Rosinante patted his overstuffed clothes and grinned happily.

Glancing at the sleeping patrolmen, completely unaware of his presence, he prepared to leave.

"Celestial Dragons... truly are the embodiment of evil. My poor, poor Second Son."

A voice suddenly rang out from behind him—old, slow, yet filled with suppressed rage.

Each word was spoken through gritted teeth.

Rosinante's body tensed.

I've been found out…?

A sharp sound sliced through the air.

Shit!

His instincts, honed by countless beatings, kicked in. He lunged forward—

But he was too slow.

BAM!

Jason withdrew his powerful leg, watching as Rosinante's small body flew through the air like a rag doll.

Blood splattered, mixing with the food that spilled from his clothes.

Before he even hit the ground, Michael's ragged, heavy breathing was already in his ears.

"Die, die, die, DIE!"

BAM BAM BAM BAM!

A massive fist, thicker than the average man's thigh, rained down like a relentless storm.

Rosinante barely had time to lift his arms before the blows started driving him deeper into the debris, like a nail being hammered into the ground.

Bones cracked. Shards of broken structures stabbed into his flesh.

The pain was unbearable. His mind teetered on the edge of unconsciousness.

Michael exhaled heavily, barely restraining the urge to beat the boy to death right then and there.

Rosinante curled into a ball, shielding his head.

Years of experience had taught him—screaming only made the abuser hit harder.

A withered hand grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

I... can't breathe!

His small hands clawed weakly at the vice-like grip around his neck.

Through bloodshot eyes and swollen lids, he saw that familiar face.

Why?

Why do Celestial Dragons deserve this?

Why is that once-kind face now twisted with hatred?

Didn't Mom and Dad say all people are equal? That we should be kind to others?

Why do they keep hurting me?

Brother…

"Father, let go. If this brat dies now, how will we make Doflamingo suffer?"

Brother's... enemy?

Rosinante's thoughts blurred.

Then, he was slammed back to the ground. Blood gushed from his mouth as darkness consumed him.

Michael ground his boot against Rosinante's face before turning to his subordinates, who had been startled awake by the commotion.

"Tell that damn Doflamingo to come negotiate. We'll trade this brat for the port. If he refuses... then he can taste what it's like to lose a brother."

"Y-yes, boss—"

"Fufufufu... How disgusting. The true nature of humanity."

A mocking voice cut through the night.

Michael and Jason froze.

Where were the patrol guards?!

Jason, experienced in running for his life, bolted toward the port without hesitation.

If I can take him hostage, I'll survive.

Michael, however, locked eyes with the young man standing beside Vergo.

Despite the childish features, the boy's presence sent a chill down his spine.

"Doflamingo, piracy isn't some game you Celestial Dragons can play!"

With a roar, Michael charged forward.

"Oh? Instead of running, you're attacking me directly? How admirable."

Doflamingo smirked at Michael's foolish bravery.

Mid-sprint, Michael suddenly felt the ground shift beneath his feet.

It was soft—like stepping into a marsh.

A moment later, countless thin threads shot up, wrapping tightly around his body.

He struggled, but his limbs were bound, rendering him completely immobile.

"Let… go of the boss—"

Michael's muffled cries barely escaped as the threads tightened, cutting off his breath.

Doflamingo nodded in satisfaction. This technique was useful against anyone without overwhelming strength or the ability to generate extreme heat or cold.

One loose thread was easy to snap.

But an entire cocoon? The more you struggled, the tighter it became.

There was no time to dwell on it—Rosinante was in bad shape.

Doflamingo flicked his fingers, sending special threads to stabilize the boy's broken body, preventing further injury.

Not far away, Jason—now bloodied and barely able to stand—watched his last surviving son struggle against Trebol and Diamante's relentless attacks.

Desperation and grief twisted his face as he roared.

"You monster, you evil Celestia—"

Doflamingo didn't even spare him a glance.

The pathetic cries of a loser meant nothing.

Gently lifting Rosinante into his arms, he spoke in a cold, detached voice.

"Trebol, Diamante. Take your time with Jason. Don't kill him just yet. He's been looking after Rosinante for me, after all."

He turned to Pica.

"Dig up that bastard Jason's precious son from the port. They've been apart for a month—let's reunite them. And while you're at it, make sure the son sends his father off properly."

He glanced at Vergo.

"Come help me."

"DOFLAMINGO!!!"

Jason's enraged scream echoed through the night.

Doflamingo ignored it.

With Vergo's help, he carefully carried Rosinante away from the battlefield.

...

One Month Later

The former Michael Family base...

Now under Donquixote rule.

Doflamingo had originally wanted to take Jason's old home—it was more luxurious, given that Jason's former master had lived there.

But Trebol had blown it to pieces.

So, they settled here instead.

In a dimly lit room, Rosinante lay wrapped in bandages, looking like a mummy.

His furrowed brows showed that even in sleep, he was uneasy.

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+100 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg