Chapter Thirty: Don Quixote

No matter how fierce or intimidating a lackey appeared, he was still only that—a lackey. After Qiu Bai claimed to have brought extremely confidential news from the New World for "Joker," and added a torrent of half-truths and wild fabrications, the lackey was first thoroughly bamboozled, then utterly deflated. This was a classic case of intellectual dominance: first, the lackey was not necessarily a clever man, and second, his acceptance of Qiu Bai’s story was driven more by fear—not of this mysterious youth who appeared out of nowhere, but of his own "master."

What if, by keeping Qiu Bai outside, he caused his master to miss out on that so-called "confidential news"? The consequences would be more than he could bear.

And so, inevitably, the situation unfolded as it did. The lackey, putting on a blustering front, spat out threats about what would happen if Qiu Bai were lying, but at the same time obediently led the way ahead.

—For the consequences of delivering false news to his "master" were just as unbearable.

As for Qiu Bai himself? Though this place was a veritable den of tigers, he strolled along with the air of one walking through a tranquil garden, neither worried nor cowed by the lackey’s intimidation—even though, from beginning to end, he had been talking nothing but nonsense.

He almost seemed intent on admiring the scenery along the way, but that, unfortunately, was impossible; following close behind, Ain’s brow was already tightly furrowed—there was nothing here but garbage, and more garbage.

It seemed that the refuse from the entire island had been dumped here, forming mound upon mound of trash, with the narrow path weaving through the low-lying areas in winding arcs.

Qiu Bai’s view shifted constantly, evoking the sense of "mountains and rivers block the way, yet after the willows and flowers, another rubbish heap emerges." Such was the feeling.

At last, he caught sight of something different. Hidden deep within the trash mountains was a house. Though it was his first time seeing such a scene, Qiu Bai could already guess the owner. The very person he sought lived here, a name that had become infamous throughout the pirate world—Donquixote Doflamingo.

Soon, the group reached the house’s entrance, and after a sequence of apparent reports and relays up the chain, the lackey finally managed to deliver the chaotic news inside.

After some time, the door swung open.

To Qiu Bai’s surprise, he was not "invited" inside; instead, the man he sought stepped out to meet him.

The lackey began to explain, but Qiu Bai had already turned, placing himself between the lackey and the newcomer.

"Hello, Little Don," he wanted to say, but refrained. His name was Qiu Bai, his temperament was equally autumnal and pale, but that didn’t mean he wished to end up strung up like some kind of specimen.

"Heavenly Yaksha, Donquixote Doflamingo?" Qiu Bai asked.

Pointed black dress shoes, flamboyant trousers, an open-necked shirt, a tall frame, sunglasses, a broad forehead, blond hair... Even though he was at "home," and not draped in his iconic pink feathered coat, Doflamingo still left a striking and unforgettable impression—like a flamingo.

Without a doubt, this was the pirate Donquixote Doflamingo.

A towering shadow loomed above, and Doflamingo, lips pressed tight and gaze hidden, radiated an oppressive presence—a brooding aura that told Qiu Bai immediately that this was the kind of man who would use "any means necessary" to achieve his ends.

"Living in the world of darkness"—perhaps that described Doflamingo best.

"You say you bring news from the New World?" Doflamingo did not bother to confirm his own identity; there was no need. In truth, after seeing Qiu Bai, he no longer expected much from this so-called news.

His voice was distinctive—low-pitched, not exactly steady, but as if he was constantly suppressing some emotion.

It was likely anger... From what Qiu Bai knew, that was the only possibility. Why did Doflamingo love feathers? Not because he was a little bird, but because he was an "angel fallen"—done in by his own father.

"News? There isn’t any. That was just an excuse to meet you..." Unlike with the lackey, Qiu Bai was straightforward with Doflamingo. "However, I did come from the New World to the North Sea."

"Your reason."

Doflamingo’s lips curled into a smile, but there was no mirth in it. The words "New World" bought him a stay of execution, but without sufficient explanation for his actions, Qiu Bai’s fate would be a quick and messy end.

"Before that, let me ask this… Is the Donquixote Family still recruiting crew?"

Though it was a question, it sufficiently explained Qiu Bai’s motive.

Doflamingo understood at once. "That’s why you traveled from the New World to the North Sea?"

"Yes. I’ve long heard of your exploits. Frankly speaking, ‘Doflamingo’ fits my ideal image of a pirate. So, if I’m to become a pirate, naturally, I’d follow the image I aspire to."

"And further, for a certain minor goal, being a pirate is my only path forward—and the strength of the Donquixote Family is exactly what I seek."

Though his words expressed longing and admiration, Qiu Bai’s tone remained calm, making it impossible to discern if he was telling the truth or spinning a web of lies. Perhaps everything was genuine—or perhaps none of it was.

This, perhaps, was a kind of "performance" in its highest form.

"A minor goal?" Doflamingo was finally intrigued.

Qiu Bai’s composure seemed to give way to a fleeting excitement, as if having his "minor goal" noticed was cause for elation.

"Have you ever heard of END POINT, Doflamingo?"

Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "My minor goal is to make END POINT… ‘boom’!"

As he spoke, Qiu Bai brought his fingertips together, then suddenly splayed them open in time with the unmistakable onomatopoeia.

This could only mean "explosion."

END POINT had always been considered a legendary place, with three sites in total, supporting pillars of the New World. Should END POINT be destroyed, the entire New World would collapse.

So Qiu Bai’s "minor goal" was to overturn the entire New World… The phrasing was obviously loaded, much like the things he’d said to Ryoma before.

"Fuffuffuffu…"

Doflamingo began to laugh—a special, even contagious, laughter. Perhaps, when the breath was in his chest, he was prepared to roar with laughter, but once it reached his mouth and nose, it was forced back down.

The sound didn’t stop abruptly, but this "closed-mouth laughter" was very much in line with Doflamingo’s character.

"END POINT? You actually believe such a place exists? And why make the destruction of the New World your goal?"

"Does ONE PIECE exist?" Qiu Bai retorted.

For someone like Doflamingo, who had witnessed the death of Pirate King Roger, ONE PIECE undoubtedly existed. If ONE PIECE was real, why couldn’t END POINT exist?

There was nothing amusing about that.

Of course, Doflamingo himself knew END POINT was real; as for Qiu Bai, he hardly cared whether such a place existed at all.

"As for your second question… Must a person have a clear reason to want to destroy something?"

Yes, a reason was necessary.

But Qiu Bai’s response did not mean it was unnecessary; he merely wanted Doflamingo to sense that he had gone through certain experiences and was now filled with hatred for the world.

No matter what story he told, it would be nothing but a tired, meaningless tale.

Just as boring as Doflamingo’s own childhood.