Inside the Shichibukai's exclusive lounge on the western side of Marineford's plaza, the atmosphere was eerily unsettling.
Six powerhouses who stood at the pinnacle of the seas were scattered around the room, without the slightest exchange between them. The air was thick with tension and sharply contrasting auras.
Doflamingo sat on a sofa, twirling a spool of thread between his fingers. His pink feather coat swayed slightly with his movements as he let out a wild laugh. "Fuffuffuffu! How interesting! The Marines and Whitebeard are finally going head-to-head! This is a spectacle you won't see once in a hundred years!"
His eyes brimmed with madness and excitement. He felt no fear of this war, only anticipation. He wanted nothing more than for the Marines and Whitebeard to cripple each other, for this rotten world to descend into utter chaos. Only when the world fell into chaos would he have a chance to climb higher.
Seated by the window with Black Blade Yoru on his back, Dracule Mihawk gazed calmly at the sea outside, as though nothing around him concerned him. At Doflamingo's words, he merely cast a dispassionate glance his way and said nothing.
He had never come here and answered the Marines' compulsory summons to help them fight Whitebeard. He simply wanted to see how great the gap between himself and the World's Strongest Man truly was. He had no interest in power or war. The only thing he cared about was the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
Gecko Moria leaned against a corner wall, his enormous belly protruding, letting out a strange, cackling laugh. His eyes gleamed with greed. "Whitebeard... the World's Strongest Man... and those commanders of the Whitebeard Pirates... fukishishishi... if I could cut off all their shadows, my Zombie Army would become the strongest in the world!