After finishing his "training" of Doflamingo, Daren returned to the North Blue 321 Branch.
As soon as he walked into the Base Commander's office, Momonga, who was buried in paperwork, looked up with a helpless expression.
"You again?"
Daren flopped onto the soft leather sofa like he owned the place, lit a cigarette, and grinned.
"What, not happy to see me?"
Momonga's mouth twitched.
He hadn't even enjoyed a few peaceful days before Daren showed up again.
It wasn't that he wasn't welcome—just that his "special training" was downright brutal.
He asked grumpily,
"Did you torment Doflamingo this time?"
Daren poured himself a glass of whiskey but frowned when he couldn't find any ice. For a moment, he found himself missing that hot-blooded guy Kuzan.
After all, whiskey should be served on the rocks. At room temperature, it tasted like some knockoff soda—or worse.
"Yeah, kind of. Gave him a bit of guidance."
Momonga shot him a look and suddenly seemed intrigued.
"You're still not giving up?"
He knew all too well how determined Daren was about shaping Doflamingo.
Although he didn't fully understand what seemed like a "raising a tiger to bite you" kind of move, he'd always respected Daren's decisions.
"Doflamingo is a rare talent. And it turns out putting him in charge of the North Blue's underworld was a smart move."
Daren smiled.
"He's still just a kid. Don't be too harsh on him."
Momonga frowned.
"I'm just worried you're going to lose control. That guy doesn't look like the type to accept being anyone's subordinate."
He hesitated, then added,
"Do you know what happened to the mafia bosses he wiped out?"
"He used his Devil Fruit ability to control them, locked them up with his men, and made them fight to the death. Only the last one standing got to live."
Momonga let out a heavy sigh. That was what had him concerned.
Doflamingo was twisted.
Born into the Celestial Dragons, he had arrogance baked into his blood. But his traumatic childhood had warped that pride into something darker—pathological obsession.
He couldn't tolerate anyone stepping over him. That obsession twisted into hatred and fury, and eventually, a destructive craving to tear everything down.
Pure malice and a thirst for destruction led him to treat life as a game, finding joy in crushing dreams and causing pain.
Hearing that, Daren paused, thoughtful.
After a few moments, he spoke slowly.
"Momonga, you know, all adult obsessions are just ways of trying to make up for what we lacked as children."
Everything Doflamingo did boiled down to one thing: a nasty little brat desperate for attention.
In the original story, he seized the Heavenly Tribute, schemed his way into the Shichibukai, stole the throne of Dressrosa, became the underworld's biggest broker, even worked with Kaidou to create Artificial Devil Fruits, and spread war across the world…
All of it was just to get the World Government—or more precisely, the Celestial Dragons—to notice him. To "prove" that they were wrong to exile him from Mary Geoise.
...Look at me now. If you won't let me return as a Celestial Dragon, then I'll destroy the world you rule.
That was what Doflamingo truly believed.
"I'm not going to pass judgment on his actions. When you deal with enemies, you go in hard—burn everything like wildfire."
A slight smirk touched Daren's lips as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"He's just an immature, prideful, and insecure brat with a heavy grudge... We crush him with strength, so of course he needs somewhere to vent all that anger."
"At the very least, he's still playing by the rules. He hasn't hurt any civilians—right?"
Momonga rubbed his temples, a headache brewing.
"I'm just afraid that if something happens to you, he'll completely snap… Doflamingo doesn't seem like someone who submits to power."
Daren nodded in agreement, smiling.
"Exactly. That kind of brat? You can't handle him with brute force alone. Sure, absolute power might make him fear you or keep him in check, but deep down, he won't accept it."
"He'll just bury his resentment even deeper, like a snake in the shadows… waiting for the right moment to strike."
"If you want to truly conquer Doflamingo's heart, you can't just rely on your fists."
"Then what are you supposed to use?"
Momonga asked with a puzzled look.
Daren smiled meaningfully.
"Love."
Momonga: ???
He stared at Daren, completely dumbfounded.
After a long pause, he muttered,
"Doflamingo… isn't a woman."
Daren: "..."
He rolled his eyes.
This guy's getting weirder by the day.
Sitting in the position of North Blue Admiral had clearly "matured" him—too many formal banquets and social obligations.
"What I mean is, Doflamingo is severely lacking in affection."
Daren said flatly.
"In your eyes, what do you think is Doflamingo's biggest weakness?"
Momonga shook his head.
A strange glint flashed in Daren's eyes.
"His biggest weakness... is his dead biological father."
"He hates his father—hates his incompetence, hates his naïveté... Growing up without paternal love, deep down, he's desperately yearning for a father who's powerful, respected, and awe-inspiring."
"He wants someone who'll give him guidance, care, and approval. Someone who'll ruffle his hair and say, 'You did great,' when he succeeds—and someone who'll pat his shoulder and say, 'It's okay, I'm here,' when he stumbles."
"He longs for someone like that in his life."
Hearing this, Momonga fell into silent contemplation.
After a moment, he looked at Daren and let out a bitter laugh.
"You're really a devil, you know that?"
"Am I?"
Daren chuckled casually.
"I'm just doing my duty as a godfather. Showing care for a lonely, broken kid—trying to steer a twisted young man onto the right path. Some places would call someone like me... an angel."
Momonga: "..."
Shameless.
"Well then, I should be heading back."
Daren finished his cigarette, stubbed it out, drained his whiskey in one gulp, and stood from the sofa, walking toward the door.
As he opened it, his footsteps paused briefly.
"I'm leaving the North Blue in your hands, Momonga."
Momonga didn't respond.
He simply stood tall, raised his hand sharply, and gave a solemn salute.