Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Family Completion Plan (Part Two)

"Human trafficking?" Qiubai murmured softly.

Such dealings hardly needed to be carried out by others; the Donquixote family itself had long been involved in these "booming industries." Yet how notorious the name "JOKER" had become within the underworld was something Qiubai could not ascertain. For the Donquixotes, it seemed that trafficking in people, weapons, and drugs was even more their signature than mere piracy.

"Heh heh heh, it's not just that. There are a hundred children down there, and only a portion of them were selected from the auction house," Trebol said.

As for the rest, Trebol didn't elaborate, but Qiubai could imagine the other "sources"—those tales were likely even more tragic.

Still, this explained why both he and Ain had been able to join the Donquixote family with such ease—the crew was clearly in a period of rapid expansion, desperately in need of fresh talent.

The reason for gathering so many children was perhaps due to Doflamingo's advanced philosophy: "You have to cultivate your officers from a young age."

Somewhere in the depths of Qiubai’s memory, he recalled something like this, though he knew that only a handful of those hundred children would ever remain.

"Will this group of brats always be under Mr. Pica's supervision?" Qiubai asked.

"For the most part, yes... Why, is there a problem?"

"No, it's just a bit too noisy."

A chorus of children’s cries was indeed a raucous affair, grating on the nerves. As for the reason they were crying? That, of course, was because of Pica.

"True, but there's no helping it. The authority of the officers cannot be challenged."

The more seriously Trebol spoke these words, the more absurd Qiubai found them—not because Trebol was speaking through a runny nose, but because the family's authority and the officers’ prestige—were those really to be established by beating children? What a cruel irony.

"And you don't need to worry; this farce will soon end," Trebol added. That much was true. Physical pain would quickly teach these children the meaning of fear and obedience—Pica’s discipline stopped just short of fatal.

And beyond enforcing discipline, it was likely that many of the children had mocked Pica’s high-pitched voice, which gave him further reason to be harsh.

This was precisely what Qiubai could not comprehend—such formalities, yet they were the most important "doctrine" for maintaining the Donquixote family's cohesion. As if the officers' authority alone could hold the family together... What a shallow "family game" this was. The most astonishing thing was that all the members seemed to believe in it wholeheartedly. It made for a truly bizarre atmosphere.

Perhaps everyone here was a little mad, but were they really his kindred spirits?

Who could say?

Still, Doflamingo was a man who had shot his own father at the age of eight. His understanding of "family" was nothing more than a self-serving fantasy.

As for the humanitarian crisis before him, Qiubai could do nothing but avert his gaze. Out of sight, out of mind—as there was nothing he could do, nothing he could change.

Not only could he do nothing, but even to judge whether joining the Donquixote family was a blessing or a curse for those children was beyond him.

…

Having grasped the general situation, Qiubai lost interest in observing further and returned inside the house.

As he passed through the parlor, he noticed Doflamingo speaking into a Den Den Mushi. Not wanting to appear as though he was eavesdropping, Qiubai made to leave quickly, but to his surprise, Doflamingo beckoned him over.

Was there something he needed?

Qiubai had no choice but to step into the parlor and wait for Doflamingo to finish his call.

"So, the negotiations have failed?" Doflamingo’s voice carried through the Den Den Mushi to some unknown distance, but there was no reply from the other side—only three distinct knocks.

"You didn't reach the Vinsmokes?"

Two knocks followed.

"You contacted the Vinsmokes, but they refused our negotiation?"

This time, there were three knocks.

Qiubai understood now: two knocks meant "no," three meant "yes." This unique code was revealing enough as to who was on the other end of the line.

It appeared that "Red Heart, First Generation" Vergo was no longer with the family. The current fourth executive was Doflamingo’s own brother, "Red Heart, Second Generation," Donquixote Rosinante.

A certain word in the brief exchange caught Qiubai’s attention. He had, after all, mentioned something similar in idle conversation before—Vinsmoke, Germa 66.

It seemed Doflamingo had sought a deal with Germa 66 but had been flatly refused.

The veins on Doflamingo’s forehead bulged visibly—he was clearly enraged. Even seated, at his towering height of three meters, Qiubai still had to look up at him.

But the anger in the air was palpable.

In truth, it might not have been the Vinsmokes who refused the Donquixotes; perhaps it was Rosinante who had sabotaged things. Qiubai couldn’t help but suspect as much, knowing full well that Doflamingo’s brother was the adopted son of Admiral Sengoku, and a Navy spy embedded in the Donquixote family.

Qiubai was keenly aware of this, but he would never speak of it. First, he had no proof, and as a newcomer, he shouldn't even know such things. To suggest that Doflamingo's own brother was a spy would sound like an attempt to sow discord and might only cause Doflamingo to suspect him in turn.

Second, revealing the answer too soon would ruin all the intrigue. The secret should only be exposed when the time is right; otherwise, it would be a graceless affair.

After a long silence, rhythmic knocks came from the other end—likely asking what to do next.

"That’s enough, Corazon. Drop the matter with the Vinsmokes. Stay where you are; I’ll send someone to fetch you."

With that, Doflamingo brusquely ended the call.

Qiubai continued to wait for his orders, fully expecting a simple errand to be assigned to him.

After a brief pause, once his temper had cooled, Doflamingo finally spoke again:

"Qiubai, I have a task for you. You are to go somewhere and bring someone back. He’s one of the family’s top executives, your direct superior, and also my biological brother."

"His name is Donquixote Rosinante."

"That idiot lost his ship, so you’ll have to take care of it."

As he spoke, Doflamingo thrust a nautical chart into Qiubai’s hands, the destination already marked.

Qiubai glanced at the name of the island—Fetlius.

"Understood, Doflamingo. But… I don’t know what Mr. Rosinante looks like."

"No matter. Once you see him, you’ll know. He’s a man with a very distinctive presence."

Qiubai had wanted a photo, but with Doflamingo’s words, he had no choice but to accept.

"You may use the communications boat…"

"I understand. I’ll set out at once."

Qiubai packed away the chart. He was about to head to Fetlius to find the other Donquixote—one he had never met, so utterly unlike the man before him.