Save Them First

Snow was still falling on Minion Island, fine and dense.

Zhenyuan's blade hovered half an inch above Doflamingo's head, its chill colder than the snow.

Rosinante stood leaning against a broken wall. He swayed and spoke with difficulty. "Ron... don't kill him."

"Brother, he really was about to kill you."

"I know."

Rosinante smiled bitterly, looking at the dying man in the ruins. "I won't forgive him for what he's done either."

"But he's still my own brother... I don't want to watch you kill him with your own hands."

Ron said nothing.

It wasn't forgiveness. It was just that, through those childhood nights so dark he couldn't see his own hand, it had been Doflamingo who held that hand and endured the hunger and cold with him.

The bond between them had long since been ground to pieces by the schemes and bloodshed that followed, but scraps of it still caught in his throat, impossible to spit out.

"Actually, I... cough!"

Before he could finish, Rosinante suddenly coughed up a great mouthful of blood. His body went limp, and he pitched forward.

"Brother!"

Ron flashed to his side and caught him.

He pressed his fingers to Rosinante's neck. His pulse was as faint as a thread about to snap.

His gunshot wounds were still bleeding, soaking his black feather coat and spreading into a great dark-purple stain across the snow.

If they delayed any longer, things could take a serious turn.

Ron looked up at the warehouse. The kid with Amber Lead Syndrome was still hiding inside.

Rosinante was already hurt this badly. He didn't want anything to happen to the child too.

Crossing from the East Blue to the North Blue through that extremely long-distance Spatial Door had drained nearly most of his strength.

He had still crushed five opponents in succession just now, but he really wasn't confident he could make another long-distance crossing with two injured people.

For now, the safest option was to find a Marine warship nearby first.

Clang.

Zhenyuan slid back into its sheath.

"All right. This time, I'll do as you say."

Ron made no mention of "next time." Carrying Rosinante, he went to the wooden crate and lifted the lid.

Law was huddled in the corner, clutching the Den Den Mushi, his face streaked with tears.

Seeing Corazon covered in blood, he opened his mouth, but still couldn't make a sound.

Rosinante struggled to raise a hand and lifted the silence ability he had left on him.

"Corazon!!"

Law finally burst into tears, throwing himself forward and clutching his clothes.

"I'm fine..."

Rosinante tried to force a smile.

"Oh, shut up."

Ron cut him off irritably. "You've nearly bled dry, and you're fine?"

Rosinante: "..."

Ron looked down at the child.

"Was it you who made the call?"

Law nodded hard, his voice still trembling. "I was afraid Corazon would die..."

Ron gently ruffled his hair.

"Good job. If it weren't for you, I might not have made it in time."

His fingertips brushed the white patches on the back of the child's hand. Without saying anything more, he pulled off his Justice Coat and wrapped him up tight.

"Come with me for now. Don't run off."

"What about Corazon..."

"He's coming too, of course."

Ron adjusted his hold on Rosinante and looked down at Law.

"Hold on to my clothes and don't let go."

Law hurriedly grabbed the hem of his clothes.

Ron spread out his Observation Haki, probing the nearby waters.

Before long, he sensed the Marines aboard a warship off the island.

"Found them."

He raised a hand and cut open a Spatial Door.

A short while later, Buffalo finally arrived in town with his men.

Seeing the ruins all over the place, he wondered why the young master had lost his temper so badly.

Then he saw Doflamingo lying unconscious beside a broken wall. His jaw dropped in shock, and he rushed over.

"Y-young master?!"

Doflamingo was covered in blood, his right arm twisted at a strange angle. Every rise and fall of his chest came with a pained gasp.

Buffalo hurriedly sent his men out to search for the others.

Pica's muscles had been beaten into hollows, and he was stuck in the snow, cosplaying as a ginseng root;

Trebol was buried in the ruins. By the time they dug him out, his head had swollen even larger than usual.

Gladius had both arms severed by a Spatial Door. His men dug him out from a pile of rubble on a barren mountain;

Jora was in even worse shape. By the time she was pulled from the shallows, she was frozen stiff.

"Quick! Get them all aboard!!"

Buffalo had no time to investigate who had done it. He scrambled to get everyone onto the evacuation ship.

As the ship sailed away from shore, Doflamingo briefly opened his eyes.

He remembered the door that had appeared out of nowhere, his younger brother admitting with his own mouth, "I'm a Marine," and Ron calling him "brother" without a moment's hesitation.

"Fuf... fufufu..."

A raspy laugh rolled out of his throat, sending a chill through Buffalo.

"Young master?"

"Rosinante..."

"Ron..."

He ground the two names slowly between his teeth.

On the other side of Minion Island, Tsuru's fleet had landed and was searching for any remaining pirates and injured people.

"Vice Admiral! There's a child here!!"

The Marines found a battered youth in an abandoned house.

X Drake.

She was Barrels' child.

After her father deserted the Marines and became a pirate, beatings and verbal abuse had become an everyday occurrence.

At the sight of people in Marine uniforms, Drake shrank back instead, pushing herself backward across the ground with her hands. "I-I didn't do anything! Don't arrest me!!"

Tsuru crouched down and examined the layers of old injuries on her arms.

"Take her aboard first. Have a military doctor look at her."

Drake froze.

"You're... not arresting me? My father's a pirate."

"The crimes your father committed are his to bear."

Tsuru's voice was calm. "Not yours."

The youth opened her mouth, then finally lowered her head, great tears splashing onto the snow.

The search continued, and soon a Marine reported that a battle had taken place in the ruins ahead. It appeared that members of the Donquixote Family had taken the severely injured officers away in the meantime.

Tsuru frowned, but ordered the survivors treated first.

Just then, on the deck of the warship offshore.

Click!

An Air Door suddenly opened!

Ron stepped out of the Spatial Door carrying Rosinante, who was covered in blood.

Law clung tightly to the hem of his clothes, stumbling along behind him.

"Rear Admiral Ron?!"

"Where's the military doctor?! Get the doctor, quick!"

The deck erupted into activity.

The operating room light stayed on for a long time. Only when the military doctor came out, removing his mask, did Ron unclench his fists.

"The bleeding is under control, and his life is no longer in immediate danger. But he must stay in bed under observation and not move around."

"What about the kid?"

"Amber Lead Syndrome is tricky. In theory, the Op-Op Fruit can help him remove the affected tissue, but he only just ate it. He'll need long-term care and guidance."

"Then treat him. Make me a list of whatever medicine he needs."

Law stood on tiptoe, peering through the little window in the operating room door.

"Will he... still be able to take me to see a doctor later?"

"Yes."

Ron rested a hand on his little shoulder. "When he wakes up, ask him yourself."

Just then, Tsuru, who had just returned, came over and handed him a cup of warm water.

"Doflamingo was taken away."

"I know."

"You're not going after him?"

"There are two injured people here. Why would I go after him?"

Ron took a sip of water, his tone matter-of-fact. "Besides, I couldn't exactly cut down his own brother in front of him, could I?"

Tsuru glanced at him and said nothing more.

Once the two had recovered somewhat, Ron decided to take them straight back to Marineford.

Marine Headquarters Hospital.

Sengoku received the news and hurried over, pushing open the door to the hospital room.

When he saw Rosinante lying in bed, covered in bandages, he froze in the doorway.

"Mr. Sengoku..."

Rosinante, who had only recently woken up, saw the panicked Sengoku in the doorway and gave him a guilty smile.

"Rosinante!!"

Sengoku's roar nearly shattered the windows. "Who gave you permission to act on your own?! Do you know, when I received the news—"

"Old man, he hasn't recovered yet."

Ron hurriedly cut in to smooth things over.

Sengoku ignored him completely.

But when he reached the bedside and saw all those bandages and gunshot wounds, he swallowed every word of the scolding on the tip of his tongue.

In the end, he bent down and gently embraced the man in the hospital bed.

"I'm just glad you're back."

Rosinante froze, then raised his uninjured arm and gently hugged him back.

"Yeah."

"I'm back."

A few days later, in an office at Headquarters.

Vergo received a piece of secret intelligence.

[Rosinante's identity as a Marine undercover agent confirmed.]

[Op-Op Fruit lost.]

[The young master and four officers were gravely injured by Ron.]

A chill ran down his back. His fingers gripped the sheet of paper so tightly that he nearly crushed it.

Not only had Ron known all along that he was a member of the Family, he had also known all about Rosinante's identity.

Then all the intelligence he had passed on over the years...

Click.

An Air Door suddenly opened.

"Vergo."

"Here!!"

Vergo immediately stood at attention, his back ramrod straight, his heart pounding so hard it felt ready to break through his ribs.

"Organize the recent mission reports. I'm taking a few days off to stay with my brother while he recovers."

"Understood!"

Ron patted him on the shoulder.

"Thanks for holding down the fort at Headquarters this time. Otherwise, I really couldn't have gotten away."

He picked up the teapot on the table and topped up Vergo's cup with half a cup of hot tea.

"Keep up the good work. I'll give you a promotion at the end of the year."

With that, he stepped through the Spatial Door.

Click.

The door closed.

Vergo stared at the stack of documents on the table for a long time without moving.

"Young Master... I don't think I can go back anymore."

No sooner had he spoken than his eyes fell on the document at the top of the stack—the "Annual Promotion Recommendation Form."

Before Ron left, he had circled Vergo's name in red pen, plain as day.

Vergo stared at the red circle for five seconds.

Wait, no.

He was a top executive of the Donquixote Family, the young master's right-hand man!

What he needed to do now was destroy the evidence, cut off contact, and find a chance to "die in the line of duty" so he could return!

He sat down and picked up the cup of tea Ron had poured him before leaving.

It was still warm.

The tea at headquarters really was better than what they had back with the family. It wasn't bitter, and it left a sweet aftertaste.

When he first enlisted, he hadn't been used to it, so Ron had gone out of his way to give him a weaker brew, saying, "Your stomach isn't in good shape. Don't drink it too strong."

At the time, he had assumed it was just a way to win him over, but now, holding this cup of hot tea, he suddenly felt... Isn't this a little too good a way to win someone over?

Vergo put down the cup and made a serious self-assessment.

First, his identity had been exposed. Going back to the pirates would most likely mean death. The young master hated undercover agents who had slipped up more than anything.

Second, Ron knew he was a spy and had still kept him around, which meant he recognized Vergo's ability to get the job done.

He could finish sorting through this stack of reports in just two days; anyone else would need a week!!

Third, in the Navy, he had a rank, a salary, a mess hall, medical checkups, and a room of his own, and he was safe.

Back with the family, never mind all the daily fighting and killing, he would also have to live in fear that Ron might open a door one day and come through to cut him down.

At that thought, he shook his head sharply. "No! I'm a member of the Donquixote Family!!"

Then he took another look at the red circle.

After a long silence, he picked up a pencil and wrote a line in small characters on the back of the paper: "If he really gives me a promotion at the end of the year—"

He crossed it out.

He wrote again: "I can't go back."

He didn't cross that out.

Vergo put down his pencil, leaned back in his chair, and picked up the cup of tea again.

"Forget it."

"I'm already here."

"I'll keep working for now."

Vergo: Please call me a marine.