Natsu: From Today On, You Can Be the Uchiha Clan's Dog

Doflamingo stood to the side, his professional smile still on his lips, but his back was already soaked with cold sweat, and his palms were sticky and damp.

This wasn't the first time he'd seen Natsu in action; he'd experienced firsthand how terrifying the Sharingan's Genjutsu was in the Throne Room.

But now, standing as an observer, watching Caesar Clown Courant, who wielded immense power in Punk Hazard and proclaimed himself "the world's greatest scientist," being pinned to the spot before he could even escape, he still felt a chill run down his spine.

From beginning to end, Natsu did not make any move or lift a finger; she only raised her eyes slightly.

Those crimson Sharingan gleamed eerily in the sunlight, the three Tomoe slowly rotating like three knives hanging over everyone's head.

Doflamingo's Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly, and his smile grew even brighter.

Caesar Clown's physical form remained suspended in mid-air—his body suffered no physical damage, the Gas-Gas Fruit's elemental transformation ability was intact, and there wasn't even a pinhead-sized wound on his skin.

But his eyes had lost focus, his pupils were dilated, and his mouth was slightly open, like a body whose soul had been ripped out.

Natsu withdrew her gaze and turned to Doflamingo.

"After he woke up, I made him organize all the experimental data from the Death Kingdom and the technology for Artificial Devil Fruits."

You can tell him – work for me, and I can provide him with research opportunities that no other laboratory in the world can offer.

If you refuse, next time it won't be as simple as the Magical Demonic Illusion: Shackling Stakes Technique."

His tone was flat, as if he were talking about today's weather.

But Doflamingo understood perfectly—this wasn't a discussion, this was a notification.

"Fufufufufu! Lord Natsu! It would be Caesar Clown's honor to serve you!"

Doflamingo's laughter erupted in the reception room, still with that signature tone and that signature smile.

He even exaggeratedly spread his hands out, like an actor taking a bow—but on the back of his neck, where the skin was covered by the collar of his pink feather coat, beads of sweat were rolling down his neck.

Caesar Clown lay slumped to the side, his eyes rolled back, drool dripping from his mouth, like an empty shell whose soul had been ripped out.

With such a living example right in front of him, every laugh of Doflamingo felt like dancing on a knife's edge.

Natsu didn't look at him.

Those scarlet Three-Tomoe Sharingan were gazing out the window—outside, the bright afternoon sun of Dressrosa shone, Toy Soldier lined up at a street corner, and several children chased each other along the edge of Himawari Flower Field, their laughter drifting up on the breeze, light and airy, completely out of place in the atmosphere of the room. He watched for a moment before turning around.

"From now on, you will purchase supplies for the Uchiha Clan." His tone was flat, leaving no room for negotiation or threat; he was simply stating a settled fact. "In return, you can fly the Uchiha Clan's banner and become a vassal of our clan. Understand?"

Doflamingo's pupils contracted sharply behind his sunglasses.

vassal.

The word struck him like a blast of wind, sharper than the blade of wind that had grazed his cheek.

He is Donquixote Doflamingo, the King of Dressrosa, Shichibukai, the biggest middleman in the Underworld, Kaido has to call him "Joker".

Over the years, he has been adept at navigating the New World, wielding influence in both the legitimate and underworld circles, all thanks to his balancing act of not depending on anyone and not offending anyone.

But now, this boy wants him to become a vassal. Not an ally, not a partner, but a vassal.

A surge of anger welled up inside him, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, instinctively wanting to bristle.

But when his gaze swept over Caesar Clown, who was sprawled on the ground, his murderous aura vanished silently. Caesar Clown's fate was a stark reminder; from entering the room to being nailed to the cross, it took only three seconds. In three seconds, a Logia Devil Fruit user became a sitting duck. Doflamingo may be strong, but he wasn't arrogant enough to think he was harder to kill than Logia.

"Hehehe! Then I really should... thank you, Natsu Yin!" He crushed his resentment, swallowed it, and when he spat it out, it turned into a louder and more exaggerated laugh. He even bowed slightly, placed his right hand on his chest, and performed a perfect bow.

"Change your tone."

Five words, neither too light nor too heavy, instantly froze Doflamingo's smile on his face.

He straightened up, and for the first time, his eyes behind his sunglasses met those crimson Sharingan without any concealment. The two stared at each other for less than two seconds before he looked away first.

"Understood," he said. This time, there were no babbling or exaggerated accents, just two clean words that popped out one by one from his clenched teeth.

"When Caesar Clown wakes up, take him to Origin Island." Natsu's voice descended from above the throne, still in that unhurried tone, as if giving a trivial instruction. "I have genetic research that I need him to do. If he refuses—"

He paused. The pause was so brief that Doflamingo didn't even have time to swallow the saliva in his mouth.

"Hopefully he'll be even harder to kill than the Celestial Dragons."

Doflamingo let out a very soft gurgling sound from his throat.

He lowered his head, his gaze fixed on the tips of his pointed leather shoes, watching the distorted reflection of the crystal chandelier on the smooth leather surface.

He replied with a very low voice, so low that he wasn't even sure if he had said it aloud.

Then he waited. He waited a moment, and then a moment more.

There was no response from the direction of the throne, not even the slightest sound of fabric rubbing together.

He cautiously lifted his eyelids and glanced at the platform through the edge of his sunglasses.

The golden throne was now empty.

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows and fell onto the velvet cushions, which were so smooth they weren't even wrinkled.

The person is gone. Just like that, gone.

There were no footsteps, no sound of a door opening, not a trace of disturbance, as if no one had ever sat there from beginning to end.

Cold sweat seeped out from his forehead again, trickling down the thin, still-scabbed wound on his face, making him shudder slightly.

He wasn't unaware of the information about this spatial ability. After Kizaru suffered a loss from that move in Sabaody, the Marine Intelligence Department had already written "suspected spatial teleportation ability" into Uchiha Natsu's file.

Seeing and experiencing something firsthand is completely different from receiving intelligence reports.

His Observation Haki was fully deployed from beginning to end, yet right under his nose, this person simply vanished into thin air, without his senses even detecting a ripple.