Chapter Thirty-Three: The Blood Clan’s Law (Part Two)

Humans are like this—it's the contrasts that make them real. In this world, sometimes the most "manly" person is a cross-dressing ballet dancer, but who can really define the nature of humanity? Still, the reason why Senior countered Jorah was probably not to support the newcomer—he certainly didn’t need to go that far. Most likely, he simply couldn't stand Jorah's shallowness.

"You all overthink things. If it’s truly for the family, then even a newcomer is one of us. If they have any ulterior motives, we can just deal with them when the time comes. The Navy has planted spies on our ship before, after all." The one speaking so confidently was Diamante, one of the top officers, leader of the Diamond Army.

His signature was the two red vertical stripes running from his forehead, across his eyes, and down his chin—perhaps a symbol of his abilities, like a banner. He seemed the sort who was easily self-assured and prone to arrogance; such people were usually easy to handle in conversation.

"Hey, what I'm really curious about is why you want to find END POINT. Could you elaborate?"

The next to speak, also a top officer, looked rather like a sticky slug—Trebol of the Clover Army. The effects of his Sticky-Sticky Fruit made him appear somewhat ridiculous.

If the previous officer embodied "confidence," then this one was "self-important." In this family, Doflamingo was undoubtedly the "king," while Trebol was the one who made him king. Yet, even now, Trebol fancied himself still able to control the king, which only made him seem foolish.

Doflamingo was now a great pirate at twenty-five—no one could sway him any longer.

Of course, Qiubai's impressions of these figures were taken from "the story," but now that he was part of that story himself, he knew he could no longer rely on vague impressions to judge real, living people. He would have to take things one step at a time.

"In truth... I simply think it’s interesting. I have no tragic past, nor do I harbor any absolute hatred. But have none of you ever wondered how fascinating it would be to blow up the whole world?" Qiubai's eyes were utterly sincere, but his words were pure nonsense.

Around the table, aside from Qiubai’s own people and Doflamingo, everyone’s impression of him had instantly united: This guy is absolutely crazy.

Doflamingo pressed one hand to his forehead, bowing his head and chuckling quietly—truly amused.

"Incomprehensible? I believe, in this family, it’s something we could achieve," Qiubai lamented over their lack of understanding of his interests.

"Of course," Doflamingo replied simply, not considering Qiubai a madman at all—for wasn’t it his own ambition as well, to overturn the world?

Then silence fell over the room.

The topic was abruptly resumed, rather awkwardly.

"But regardless, the 'Blood Family Rules' cannot be violated: the authority of the officers must not be defied, and anyone who harms an officer is an enemy of the entire family. This is the iron law of the Donquixote Family!"

Authority, or a pretense of it?

The final comment came from a giant with a piercingly high-pitched voice—Pica of the Spade Army, who was probably the strongest in the family apart from Doflamingo himself. The reason he stated this rule was because his voice so starkly contrasted with his massive physique, making him the family’s most frequent target of mockery.

"Undermining the dignity of the family and its officers"—more often than not, he was the butt of that joke.

However, the reactions of Qiubai and his companions left Pica highly satisfied. Few people could hear his voice without bursting into laughter, but today, at last, three had managed it.

While Pica spoke, Qiubai simply smiled at him, even kindly, while Ai En and Bepo showed no particular reaction.

Qiubai didn't laugh because he saw nothing funny—he found no reason to mock Pica. If he were going to ridicule anyone, he ought to start with Doflamingo’s Super Saiyan hairstyle.

As for Ai En, her personality was rather expressionless; if anyone deserved her sarcasm, it could only be Qiubai himself.

And Bepo? He was a bear. To him, the people in the room—regardless of gender, height, weight, or voice—were all much the same. Including Qiubai, their similarities probably exceeded ninety percent.

They were all humans, weren't they?

There were no female bears in the room, so what was the fuss about?

"Alright, remember what Pica said. The rest of the rules you can learn gradually. After a long voyage, I imagine our newcomers are tired. After dinner, you may rest. Tomorrow we have new operations, and I hope you can play your part." After a simple exchange, Doflamingo offered his final summary.

"Understood... Um, what should we call you?"

"Boss? Captain? Chief? Joker? Young Master?"

"Call me whatever you like."

"Then Doflamingo it is. We’re a family, aren’t we?" Calling him "Doflamingo" was certainly intimate, but Qiubai had chosen a name reserved for the elders.

Someone immediately seemed ready to leap out of their chair.

Doflamingo slammed his glass down on the table. "Well said. We are a family."

What his subordinates called him, in truth, did not concern Doflamingo much.

Qiubai didn’t think he’d done anything wrong; he kept smiling... The Donquixote family games still intrigued him.

"By the way, Qiubai, your direct superior is currently on another mission. When he returns, I’ll introduce you." After the meal, as everyone prepared to disperse, Doflamingo offered this final note.

"Understood."

Still, was his superior the "first Heart" Vergo, or the "second Heart" Rosinante? Qiubai wondered...

Afterwards, the three of them, guided by a subordinate, left the dining hall and headed for their quarters.

From that moment, they had truly joined the Donquixote crew, and established themselves as officers within the "family."

In essence, Qiubai was still a subordinate, but there was a world of difference in form and status between him and the one leading them now.

"This way, please. There are many vacant rooms—you may choose any you like..." The subordinate ahead spoke nervously, eager to get a look at the new officers, but too intimidated to raise his head.

"This one," Ai En said, stopping at the very first room the subordinate opened—there was little point in being choosy.

"Very well, we’ll take this one."

Qiubai followed her in.

And was immediately kicked out.

"I meant, I'll take the room next door," Qiubai said nonchalantly, brushing off his backside, then picking up his bear and giving new instructions to the subordinate.

The subordinate instantly concluded that this newcomer was extraordinary; even his cold expression seemed tinged with arrogance.

Brother Qiu was truly cool now—a fact that could be abbreviated, perhaps, as "Cool Q."