The second installment (the sequel) to Ace of Spades is now out.
Read 'The Hanged Man' once you've finished this one.
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A rascal with a penchant for making friends with the wrong people, you were often regarded as a troublemaker by...
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Clean cut -- Italian, dark.
Maroon tie, sharp.
Blonde strands gelled back.
White rimmed shades, darkened.
Grin, deadly.
Donquixote Doflamingo, who also went by the alias of Joker, was a man not to be trifled with. With an influence that extended far longer than most, he had an eye on almost every production company in the world, save for a few; that being Italy, the East Coast of the U.S., and Japan.
Though unattainable, he still had his Halcones planted in each location, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
If not for Whitebeard and Shanks' interference in his work, he might not have lost so many clients or a couple of billions worth of technological prototypes. But because it had happened, Doflamingo was now enraged -- so much so that he had a hard time deciding what to do next.
Should he kill them? Should he hunt them down and make an example of them?
His temper only worsened after hearing that Blackbeard had returned; losing much of his trafficking business as he did. An unfortunate consequence to handing the reins to an idiot.
He should have known better.
Although the cons far outweighed the pros, that didn't necessarily mean that he had come out of this situation unrewarded. In fact, one might say, that this was a tactile move required to progress into the future.
Deep frown only deepening, Doflamingo reclined into his throne-like cathedra, long fingers draped onto the dark, medieval-style rest, tapping away in vexation. Broken from his thoughts only by the sharp ring of his phone, he paused, his long finger held just a centimeter from the wood before he lifted it to eye-level, sharp eyes narrowing through the shades.
Unknown Number
Unknown: Location verified.
Things were finally starting to fall into place for the blonde, even if there had been a few missteps here and there. But in the end, he'd come out on top -- like before. Roger's death not only served as a stepping stone, but it also paved the way for many other sinister figures such as himself.
"This Fire Fist. He was the one to break into my warehouse and steal my property without so much as raising an alarm? Am I supposed to believe that?"
Languidly seated on the leather couch opposite of him was Blackbeard, the man donned in a large, black overcoat with several layers of jewelry clinking around his neck, dark eyes transfixed
