Chapter 150: Planting an Agent (Patreon)

Chapter 150: Planting an Agent

The palace hall.

Doflamingo lounged on a velvet sofa, his pink feather coat draped carelessly over the armrest. A golden coin spun between his fingers as his half-lidded gaze behind his sunglasses seemed to waver between drowsiness and scrutiny of everything in the room.

Diamante fiddled with his sword in front of a mirror, the feathered hilt swaying slightly with each movement. Lao G dozed at the table, drool soaking into the tablecloth, while Viola stood by the window, gazing at the courtyard outside as if indifferent to her surroundings.

Creak—

The heavy palace doors swung open, revealing Bahr's figure at the entrance. His black cloak swept across the polished marble floor, stirring a gust of wind. His eyes swept over the executives before finally settling on Doflamingo, his steps never faltering as he approached.

"Fufufu... Our esteemed guest has arrived." The coin between Doflamingo's fingers abruptly stopped spinning, his lips curling into that trademark smirk. "How was your stroll through the towns of Dressrosa? My country isn't too shabby, is it?"

"Average." Bahr took a seat on the sofa opposite him, casually picking up an apple from the table and tossing it in his hand.

This so-called "Land of Love, Passion, and Toys" truly had nothing remarkable to offer. The stiff, artificial smiles of the toy citizens had been obvious during his walk, making the whole outing dull. No decent conflicts, no noteworthy figures—even as a tourist destination, it was disappointingly bland.

Compared to this kingdom of hollow prosperity, the pristine underwater world of Fish-Man Island suited him far better. At least the joy there was genuine.

Best to finish business quickly and leave.

Meeting Doflamingo's gaze, he said, "Scenery isn't my priority. I'm more interested in the real deal—how are the weapons coming along?"

"Impatient, aren't we?" Doflamingo scoffed, tilting his chin up. "The final batch arrives tonight—Sea Stone Bullets, custom-made blades, everything accounted for. You won't be disappointed."

"Good." Bahr caught the falling apple, rubbing it against his palm. "Have them ready. I leave at dawn tomorrow."

Doflamingo didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned toward Viola by the window, his tone laced with amusement. "Viola, come here."

Her body stiffened almost imperceptibly before she turned around. Her crimson eyes remained as aloof as ever, though her fingers clenched tighter as she approached Doflamingo.

"Mr. Bahr here is leaving tomorrow," Doflamingo drawled, his gaze flickering between the two. "Since you've got nothing better to do, why not go with him?"

Bahr's brow instantly arched, the apple freezing mid-air. His eyes chilled as they locked onto Doflamingo. "So you're planting a spy on me?"

"Fufufu... Don't put it so harshly." Doflamingo laughed, though the sound carried no warmth. "We're partners, aren't we? A liaison is only natural."

He patted Viola's shoulder, deliberately emphasizing his next words. "Besides, Viola is quite exceptional, isn't she? Last time, you two got along so well. Don't be so cold."

Those words were like a needle, instantly draining the color from Viola's face. She knew Doflamingo's words were meant for Bahr as much as they were for her—a reminder not to forget her place, and more importantly, not to forget her father.

Bahr's gaze lingered on Viola's tense profile before turning back to Doflamingo, his lips curling into a sneer. "I wouldn't dare take one of your people. Who knows when they might stab me in the back?"

A one-night stand didn’t mean Bahr would ever trust Viola. And Doflamingo’s intentions were painfully obvious—he wanted Viola to keep an eye on him.

"Don’t worry, she wouldn’t dare." Doflamingo's voice dropped suddenly, carrying an unshakable authority. "Right, Viola?"

Viola’s fingers dug into her palms, her nails nearly piercing flesh. After a few seconds of silence, she answered in a whisper so faint it was almost a sigh. "...Yes."

Bahr took in Viola’s demeanor and guessed most of it—she was trapped, held hostage by Doflamingo’s leverage.

Just as he was about to speak, heavy footsteps echoed from outside the hall, accompanied by the grating scrape of dragging chains.

"Young Master!" Gladius’ voice shattered the silence as he strode in, one hand gripping a thick iron chain. At the other end, the collar was fastened around the neck of a frail young girl, who stumbled forward, her knees slamming hard against the marble floor with a dull thud.

Bahr’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly when his eyes landed on the girl.

She couldn’t have been more than fourteen, with pink hair tied into two thick braids, the ends slightly frayed. Dressed in a simple white slip, its hem caked in dirt, her exposed arms and legs bore crisscrossing scars—some fresh, some old. Though her figure hadn’t fully matured, the stubborn set of her slender waist and straight spine already hinted at the defiance of youth.

It was Rebecca.

A flicker of surprise crossed Bahr’s mind. From what he remembered, this girl wasn’t supposed to be captured and thrown into the arena until she was sixteen. Why was she here two years early?

"Found her on the way back from delivering the weapons," Gladius said, releasing the chain and pressing a foot between Rebecca’s shoulder blades, forcing her head down. "A remnant of the royal family—Scarlett’s daughter."

Rebecca’s shoulders trembled violently, but she clenched her jaw, refusing to let out even a whimper of weakness.

The coin in Doflamingo’s fingers had long stopped spinning. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze behind the sunglasses settling on Rebecca as a cruel smile curled his lips. "Fufufu... So it’s the little rat that’s been hiding. I was wondering how long you’d last."

He stood, his pink feather coat brushing against the armrest of the sofa as he circled Rebecca with slow, deliberate steps. "If your mother, Scarlett, had just obeyed, she wouldn’t have ended up rotting in the streets. Seems you’ve inherited her suicidal stubbornness."

Rebecca jerked her head up, her pink braids whipping with the movement. "Don’t you dare speak of my mother!"

"Oh? Still got a mouth on you?" Doflamingo chuckled, stepping on the loose ends of her hair and watching her spine stiffen in pain. "Seems you’ve forgotten who rules this country."

He straightened up and jerked his chin at the nearby guard. "Take her away and throw her into the Coliseum's dungeon. The arena happens to be short of a fresh 'Sacrifice' lately. Let her learn how to wag her tail for the victors properly."

"No! Let me go!" Rebecca struggled violently, the chains scraping against the floor with a grating noise. "You demons! Executioners!"

The guard stepped forward to seize Rebecca's arms, dragging her roughly toward the exit. As they passed by the window, Rebecca's gaze locked with Viola's.

Viola's body froze instantly, a tempest raging in her crimson eyes—that child was the one her sister Scarlett had protected with her life, the last royal bloodline of Dressrosa.

But she couldn't move.

If she dared utter even a single word of protest, even worse torment would await Rebecca. And as for their father...

Viola abruptly averted her eyes, fixing them on the withered orchid on the windowsill instead. Her shoulders trembled uncontrollably as Rebecca's cries and the clanking of chains grew fainter, eventually fading away down the corridor.