The Greatest Disgrace in Marine History

After finishing his "training" with Doflamingo, Darren returned to the 321st Marine Branch in the North Blue.

The moment he stepped into the base commander's office, he was greeted with an exasperated voice from the man buried in paperwork.

"You again?"

Darren plopped himself onto a plush leather sofa with the air of a boss, lit a cigarette, and grinned.

"What? You're not happy to see me?"

Momonga's mouth twitched.

Just a few peaceful days, and Darren was back.

Not that he was unwelcome—but his idea of "training" was nothing short of sadistic.

"So," Momonga muttered, "you beat Doflamingo half to death?"

Darren poured himself a glass of whiskey. Not finding any ice, he suddenly missed that hot-blooded fellow, Kuzan.

After all, whiskey without ice was basically just some lukewarm swill—like horse piss.

"More or less. Just gave him a bit of guidance."

Momonga glanced at him, suddenly intrigued.

"You still haven't given up, huh?"

He knew very well Darren's intention to mold Doflamingo.

Though he didn't quite understand the logic behind raising a tiger under your own roof, he'd always respected Darren's judgment.

"Doflamingo's a rare talent. Putting him in charge of the North Blue underworld was one of my smarter moves."

Darren exhaled smoke with a smile.

"He's still a kid. Don't be too hard on him."

Momonga frowned.

"I just don't want this to blow up in your face. That kid doesn't look like someone who'd ever accept being beneath another."

He hesitated before continuing.

"Do you know what he did to the mafia bosses he purged?"

"He used his Devil Fruit to control them—then locked them all in a room and made them fight to the death. Only the last one standing was allowed to live."

Momonga sighed heavily.

That was what worried him.

Doflamingo was twisted.

As a Celestial Dragon, he had been born with an innate sense of superiority. His traumatic childhood had warped that arrogance into something far darker—obsession.

He couldn't stand to be looked down upon. That pathological obsession bred hatred, which in turn gave birth to a destructive hunger.

A pure desire to destroy—for no reason but to see others suffer. To crush dreams. To hurt lives. That was where he found pleasure.

Hearing this, Darren paused in thought.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke slowly:

"Momonga… you know, all adult obsessions stem from the wounds of their childhood."

Everything Doflamingo did—it was just the lashing out of a bitter child craving attention.

In the original timeline, he had seized the Heavenly Tribute gold, secured a seat among the Shichibukai, overthrown Dressrosa, became the biggest broker in the underworld, and even partnered with Kaido to create artificial Devil Fruits, fueling wars worldwide…

All of it was a cry for attention.

A message to the World Government—or more accurately, to the Celestial Dragons:

Look at me. You threw me out of Mary Geoise. That was a mistake. Open your eyes—if I can't return to your world, I'll burn it to the ground.

That was the heart of Doflamingo.

"I won't comment on his methods," Darren said with a faint smile, "but when it comes to enemies, brutality is a necessity."

He blew out a trail of smoke.

"He's just an immature brat. Arrogant enough to be deeply insecure. Deeply resentful. Being constantly crushed by our strength, of course he has to vent that rage somewhere."

"At least he follows the rules. He hasn't laid a hand on any civilians, has he?"

Momonga pinched his temples.

"What worries me is what'll happen if something happens to you. That kid doesn't look like someone who'll stay loyal to strength."

Darren nodded in agreement.

"Exactly. You can't deal with someone like that using just brute force. You can beat him into submission, but his heart will never yield."

"He'll bury that resentment deep, like a viper waiting in the shadows, just to strike you the moment your guard is down."

"To truly conquer Doflamingo's heart… fists aren't enough."

"Then what is?" Momonga asked.

Darren smiled meaningfully.

"It takes love."

Momonga: "???"

He stared blankly at Darren.

After a long pause, he muttered:

"Doflamingo… isn't a woman."

Darren: "..."

He rolled his eyes.

Honestly, Momonga was getting more repressed by the day.

That Supreme Commander position—too many banquets and political dealings. The man had "matured" way too fast.

"What I mean is—Doflamingo has never known affection."

Darren exhaled sharply.

"To you, what's his biggest weakness?"

Momonga shook his head.

Darren's gaze turned unreadable.

"His greatest weakness… is his dead father."

"He hates his father's weakness. His naivety. He despises how that man failed him."

"Growing up without a father's love… deep down, he's desperate for someone strong, powerful, respected—someone who can care for him, guide him, and, most of all, accept him."

"He longs for a father figure who'll ruffle his hair when he does well. Who'll pat his shoulder after failure and say, 'It's okay. I'm here.'"

"He yearns for someone like that—whether he admits it or not."

Momonga fell silent, deep in thought.

After a while, he looked at Darren and let out a wry smile.

"You're a devil, you know that?"

(Bellirys: I couldn't help but agree. That man really is a devil. (￣ー￣)b )

"Am I?"

Darren shrugged with a grin.

"I'm just doing my duty as his godfather. Supporting a troubled youth. Helping a warped heart find the right path… Some people might even call me an angel."

Momonga: "..."

Shameless.

"Alright, I should get going."

Darren stubbed out his cigarette and downed the last of his whiskey in one gulp. Rising from the sofa, he made his way to the door.

At the threshold, he paused.

"I'm leaving the North Blue in your hands, Momonga."

The Momonga said nothing.

But then, suddenly, he stood straight.

And with a solemn expression, he raised his hand—

And saluted.

---

To be continued…