Although he was a member of the family, he did not receive the privileges of an officer.
He knew all too well how cruel Doflamingo was.
"All right, leave!"
Just then, the slovenly middle-aged man on the sofa to the right spoke calmly. He wore tiny sunglasses, with a strand of mucus dangling from his nose. His hair had straight bangs on top and hung down like glue below. He was barefoot, with shackles around his ankles, stubble above his upper lip, and sparse teeth.
"Yes, Lord Trebol."
The pirate kneeling on the floor bowed his head to the ground, slowly shuffled backward a few steps, then stood and hurried out of the room.
Whenever he came here with good news, he felt elated.
But if it was bad news...
He had only held this position for a few months.
As for his predecessor, and his predecessor's predecessor...
He had heard that once they came here, they never returned.
And this time, the news he brought was definitely bad. That was why he was so afraid.
The pirate stepped through the door
and closed it behind him.
The room instantly fell silent.
Except for the chewing of the little girl sitting on the left-hand sofa. Dressed in a spotted dress, with a monocle over her left eye and a bob haircut, she kept spearing purple grapes from the basket in her lap with her fingers and popping them into her mouth.
Trebol paid no attention to the little girl.
He tapped the floor with the club-marked hand of his staff, turned toward Doflamingo in the middle, and said, "Doffy, why not call Vergo and ask him? He happens to be in those waters."
Monet had left four days ago. She should have called back two days earlier.
Yet over those