The photograph was clearly several years old. Though it had been well preserved overall, its edges had begun to yellow and curl.
Under a silver moon hanging like a platter in the night sky, bathed in its clear light...
A boy with short blond hair was raising a toast with Noah, his head thrown back in laughter.
His clean, fresh face looked nothing like the gloomy man who now spent every day wrapped in a thick coat and wearing eye makeup. Even someone who knew him would never have recognized him without looking closely.
For some reason, the carefree delight in that smile stirred a faint bitterness in Doflamingo toward the other boy in the photograph, the one with black hair. Even... jealousy.
Phew.
Doflamingo drew a deep breath, abruptly crushed the stack of photographs into a ball, tossed it back onto the table, and stubbed out his cigarette.
"Doflamingo."
Only then did Vergo quietly ask, "How should we handle this?"
"How should we handle it?"
Doflamingo raised his head, his expression restored to its usual cold composure. His lips curled into a spine-chilling, eerie laugh.
"Fufufufufu. What do you think, Vergo? Even if he is my own little brother, betrayal is absolutely... no, rather, precisely because he is my brother, his betrayal is even more intolerable than anyone else's."
"..."
Vergo fell silent for a moment, then stood, rolled his neck, and said expressionlessly:
"In that case, understood."
With that, he headed for the door.
But the instant Vergo's right hand landed on the handle, Doflamingo stopped him again.
"No, wait."
Doflamingo stared at the photographs on the table, his sunglasses concealing any emotion in his eyes.
"Give him one last chance. Arrange it however you see fit. This matter... I want absolute certainty. Even ninety-nine percent won't do.