An Outstanding Journalist

Doflamingo didn't know whether Aleus had planned everything from the start, but all he needed to know was that Aleus had no hostility toward him. There were seven Shichibukai, after all. As long as nobody tried to take the seat beneath him, he didn't care who got kicked out.

On the contrary,

he was always eager to get involved in such entertaining, lively affairs.

Still, he couldn't afford to be careless, especially when it came to Violet... She had approached Aleus of her own accord. Although nothing seemed out of the ordinary, it was still worth keeping an eye on her. He wasn't going to pry into her motives. It was enough to make sure she didn't do anything suspicious from here on out.

The banquet continued.

People in this world—whether it was human nature or simply a shared trait, he couldn't say—had an indescribable passion for banquets. Once one began, it would go on for a very long time unless something unavoidable interrupted it or circumstances made it impossible to continue.

"Monet."

Doflamingo approached the green-haired woman sitting beneath a parasol, eating shaved ice.

"Young Master? Is there something you need?"

The woman asked indistinctly, thoroughly enjoying her shaved ice. Her grassy-green wavy hair hung down her back, and the thick-lensed, milk-bottle glasses on her face obscured most of it, hiding her lovely features. Instead, they gave her a plain, bookish air.

She was Monet.

A member of the Donquixote Family and Doflamingo's secretary.

She firmly believed that Doflamingo was the one and only candidate for Pirate King. For his sake, she would gladly give her life.

"Monet, I have a task for you. Keep an eye on Violet."

"Violet? What's wrong with her?"

"I'm not sure. She might be getting ideas she shouldn't."

"Ah! Is Her Highness still dreaming of reclaiming her kingdom?" Monet set down her spoon and licked the syrup from the corner of her mouth. Her golden eyes shifted behind the thick lenses as her keen gaze searched the noisy crowd for Violet.

"Fufufu! Just keep an eye on her. Until our guest leaves, don't let her do anything strange. I don't want to see any of my family members lost for some ridiculous reason. So, Monet, I'm leaving Violet in your hands for now."

"Leave it to me, Young Master. I'll make sure Her Highness understands that family members shouldn't plot against each other," Monet replied with a smile.

The New World,

a place where chaos and order were intertwined, where order made room for chaos. Every day and night, every hour, every minute, every second, people died. They died of illness, hunger, old age, or at someone's hands... Death was always the same, but there were countless ways to reach that inevitable end.

Of course, in a world that ranked people in different classes,

the deaths of different people naturally had different impacts. Well, that was probably true in any world.

On an obscure island stood the headquarters of the World Economic News Paper.

While the lively banquet continued in the Royal Palace of Dressrosa,

"President!!!"

"An urgent, top-priority letter!"

The employee took two steps at a time. If he'd had wings, he would have flown straight to Morgans's office. Since he couldn't, he sprinted down the hall, barreling past everyone in his way, then burst into Morgans's office without even knocking.

This was allowed.

If you had important enough, urgent enough information in your hands, you could barge into the office. You could even storm into the bathroom and drag Morgans out while he was taking care of business. No one would object.

"Urgent... Hmm."

Morgans set down his teacup and took the sealed envelope from the employee.

He examined it carefully, making sure no one had opened it beforehand. Only then did he pick up a letter opener, break the seal, and remove the letter and... photographs. They showed Umit, lying on his back in a massive crater, dead. The image was so clear that every detail could be seen; it was astonishing.

There were also photographs of Aleus and his attendants. Judging by the background, they seemed to be in the same area as Umit.

"...Umit. So you really were the first sacrifice!"

After reading the letter, Morgans remained seated, utterly unruffled. The employee realized that his hopes of getting a big scoop were dashed, and, disappointed, took his leave. He quietly withdrew from the office, carefully closing the door behind him.

Morgans paid no attention to his subordinate's little schemes. His attention was entirely focused on the letter and photographs in his hands.

Or rather, he had been waiting for this news for the past two days.

As a journalist, passively waiting for events to happen before gathering information was unacceptable. Only by predicting events in advance could he get the first-hand scoop and maintain his standing as an outstanding journalist.

"Shame I can't put this in the paper."

Morgans sighed with regret.

He and Umit weren't close. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Umit, who valued secrecy, hated having information about his wealth made public. Even a bit of gossip was strictly off-limits. Once, the two had had a huge argument over a minor news item. If nobody had intervened, they would have come to blows.

If not for Umit's status as a Dark World kingpin, Morgans would have loved to splash the news of Umit being swept away by the next wave all over the front page. But that was just a fantasy. He couldn't openly print the story. At most, he could publish a brief obituary in a corner of tomorrow's paper: "The chairman of So-and-So Company has passed away under unfortunate circumstances," or something of the sort.

The old chapter had turned, and Morgans felt no regret as he cast Umit from his thoughts. In his place came [Black Prince] Sokachio Aleus. That name completely filled the space Umit had left behind.

He held the photograph in his hand,

his sharp gaze fixed on Aleus, whose pair of pitch-black wings were spread wide.

"Prince Aleus... Was he not a shooting star that flashed by, but a fixed star destined to illuminate the heavens?"

"Everyone!"

"Everyone!"

He slapped the desk, and a crowd immediately poured in. They seemed to make a chaotic rush, yet not a sound escaped them. Everyone stood silently in the office, waiting for the president to speak.

"Latest news: Umit is dead."

"He was killed by [Black Prince] Sokachio Aleus. This isn't something we can put in the paper, so... spread the news through private channels. Everyone who ought to know, everyone who needs to know—I want them all to hear about it. And don't forget to promote our newspaper's reach."

News!

It wasn't spread solely through newspapers. Newspapers were simply the easiest and most practical way to spread it. There were plenty of other ways to get the news out, too.