Moria's eyes widened in terror.
"Why? Why do you two want to kill me? I don't believe you'd kill me just because I said a couple of things that offended you."
Doffy looked at Moria, who lay dying on the ground, and laughed.
"Moria, you no longer deserve to be called a Shichibukai. Dying in the Summit War should save you a little face, shouldn't it? It sounds better than being eliminated by the government. Fuffuffuffuffu."
Moria spat out another mouthful of blood.
"Was it Sengoku? Did Sengoku send you two to kill me?"
Moria knew he was going to die. Now he only wanted to know who had ordered it.
"No. Someone higher up."
Moria's face twisted with resentment. He couldn't accept dying like this.
Werther walked over and examined him. Moria looked certain to die, but what if he had some strange ability?
So Werther thoughtfully planted a foot on Moria's neck, right where a great hole had already been torn through it.
"Urgh—"
Moria coughed up another mouthful of blood, and the light began to fade from his eyes.
"Let's go, Doffy. This guy was too weak. How did he ever become a Shichibukai?"
Doflamingo smiled and dusted himself off.
“He used to be a Great Pirate. But after someone broke his spirit in the New World, he went downhill year after year.”
With that, the two headed for the Harbor. Neither wanted to linger in Marineford. They had only come to help the Marines fight; they weren't on the same side.
Lying on the ground, Moria felt his life slipping away bit by bit.
Was I really wrong? No. I was just terribly unlucky.
*My friends, I'm coming to find you. I wonder if you still remember your captain. I miss the days when we adventured