23
The wind at the docks brushed Rossi's cheek, carrying a salty, astringent tang.
He turned his gaze toward the berth. The pitch-black ship sat silent as a great bird with folded wings, its mooring ropes taut and its deck spotless. Everything was ready.
"The Family won't turn a blind eye to those willing to pay the price."
The voice came from beside him.
"All right. You take over here."
Doflamingo turned his head, his gaze settling on Rossi from behind his lenses.
He paused for a beat before continuing, each word weighted heavily. "I'll handle the conference."
"Be careful."
He added, the sea breeze snapping the hem of his pink coat, "Even with me supporting you from outside, there's no guarantee those five won't suddenly turn on us."
That was precisely why he had chosen to stay behind-if they all ventured deep into the Holy Land, they would be trapped like fish in a barrel.
With him watching hungrily from outside, the other side would have one more thing to consider before acting.
"If they want to keep me there, they'll have to prove they can."
The corner of Rossi's mouth curved slightly.
A battle he could not win was not necessarily one he could not escape.
Below, the dull thuds of blows striking a punching bag came from the training ground.
Luo stopped moving, sweat dripping from his chin. He raised his head and looked toward the roof of the school building.
The gust that had swept through at first light had long since faded. The rooftop was empty, with nothing left behind.
The New World, G1 Marine Base.
The shadow of the Red Line fell like a massive wall, enveloping the entire "Red Harbor"
in a cold solemnity.
Today, this military site had grown unusually noisy.