Chapter 32: Trash among trash

(??? POV)

"AHHH" A piercing cry reverberated through the air, it carried the weight of despair and agony. In the midst of the grim scene, a man donned in a peculiar robe akin to a space suit stood with a malevolent gleam in his eyes. With a searing branding iron clutched firmly in his grasp, he inflicted a mark upon the girl's delicate forehead, an emblem that declared her as nothing more than his property. The searing mark etched upon her forehead is the Hoof of the Flying Dragon.

Amidst the lingering scent of burnt flesh, the man's fury surged like an unyielding tempest. He demanded an answer, his voice laced with seething anger as he confronted the trembling girl. "Did I allow you to scream?" His words cut through the air like a razor, laced with a chilling authority that demanded submission.

Stricken by fear, the girl's trembling form sank to her knees, her voice quivering with desperation as she pleaded for mercy. "Please... have mercy, young noble!"

The man's heart remained untouched by mercy as he disregarded her plea, a sinister grin stretching across his face. He retrieved a whip from his side and unleashed a torrent of brutal lashes upon her defenseless form.

With relentless brutality, he lashed out, each strike tore through her flesh, leaving behind a trail of blood. The girl, her delicate frame battered and broken, could barely withstand the agonizing torment inflicted upon her. The wounds on her, near-fatal and seeping crimson.

Satisfied with his display of power, the man's voice dripped with sadistic satisfaction as he addressed his captive. "You better thank this young lord for the invaluable education you have received."

Blood stained the ground beneath her, mixing with her desperate gasps for air. Yet, even in the face of excruciating torment, her spirit remained unbroken. Through gritted teeth, she summoned every ounce of strength within her battered form, determined to express gratitude where none was deserved.

Summoning her remaining strength, the girl, her voice barely a whisper, mustered the courage to speak. Kneeling before her tormentor, her body trembling, she managed to utter her words of forced gratitude. "Thank you, young noble, for gracing this lowly slave with your...educational efforts."

As the girl's words hung in the air, Donquixote Vergil, the sinister figure responsible for her torment, regarded her with a mix of disdain and amusement. His cold eyes, hidden behind the glass visor of his space-like robe, gleamed with a perverse satisfaction. Deep within his twisted psyche, a fire burned, fueled by a tumultuous history that shaped his current existence.

Vergil was reborn 20 years ago into the prestigious Donquixote Family as the younger cousin of Donquixote Doflamingo, he had effortlessly assimilated into the lifestyle of the Tenryūbito. Yet, the actions of his own kin had ignited a fury within him, gnawing at the core of his being.

The first catalyst for Vergil's seething anger was the departure of Donquixote Homing from Mary Geoise many years ago. The audacity of his uncle to abandon their holy land had brought upon the scornful eyes and disdainful whispers of the other Tenryūbito. From that moment onward, the stain of Homing's rebellion tainted the entire Donquixote Family, rendering them pariahs in the eyes of their fellow celestial dragons.

Adding fuel to the inferno of Vergil's resentment was the recent transformation of his uncle, Donquixote Mjosgard, into a benevolent man. This unexpected display of compassion and empathy by a member of their esteemed lineage cast doubt on the collective sanity of the Donquixote Family. The Tenryūbito, steeped in their haughty arrogance, perceived this shift as an aberration, further isolating Vergil and intensifying his hate for his own family.

Adding to the tangled web of intrigue surrounding the Donquixote Family for the past five years, members of the family had vanished without a trace or willingly renounced their exalted status as Tenryūbito. The mysterious circumstances surrounding these events were no mere coincidence; they were orchestrated by none other than Donquixote Vergil himself.

Adding to the already tumultuous history of the Donquixote Family, a string of mysterious events had unfolded in the past five years. Members of this once-proud lineage had begun to vanish without a trace or renounce their status as Tenryūbito.

Amidst this enigmatic backdrop, only one individual remained, Donquixote Vergil, a 20-year-old man, whose very existence seemed to defy the unfolding chaos. Behind the scenes, hidden from prying eyes, Vergil orchestrated the series of events that had befallen his family with meticulous precision. What appeared to be accidents and inexplicable disappearances were nothing more than calculated maneuvers in his grand design.

As the sole survivor of the Donquixote Family with the status of Tenryūbito, Vergil seized the opportunity presented by the void left by his fallen relatives. With a sinister smile etched upon his face, he claimed their properties, estates, and vast wealth as his own. The halls once resounding with the echoes of his family's influence now belonged to him.

However, scheming against his family was not the only endeavor that consumed Donquixote Vergil's twisted ambitions since his reincarnation into the world of One Piece. A thirst for power and a relentless pursuit of strength drove him to seek mastery in the arts of combat. Under the tutelage of one of the Holy Knights, he delved deep into the teachings of Haki, honing his abilities to a level far surpassing most.

Within the hallowed halls of the Holy Knights' training grounds, Vergil immersed himself in the grueling regimen of physical and mental conditioning. With each passing day, he pushed himself to the limits of his endurance, breaking through the barriers of his own limitations.

He learned Observation Haki, Armament Haki, and Conqueror's Haki. But Vergil's thirst for power knew no bounds. Unsatisfied with mere mastery, he delved into the advanced Haki techniques, some of which he managed to learn by now.

Such mastery over Haki did not go unnoticed. The Holy Knights recognized his exceptional skill. He earned the position of reserve member among their ranks. Should any of the Holy Knights ever step down from their positions, Vergil would stand ready to ascend, assuming the mantle of an official member and further cementing his influence in the world.

Today, once again, Don Quixote enjoyed himself to the full. After getting up in the morning, he began his day by raping some slaves. One of them died as he tortured her to death while raping her. After that, he looked for a new slave to replace the deceased one and, having acquired her, he branded her as his property, which brings us back to the present.

Hidden within the confines of his mansion, Donquixote Vergil retreated into a secret chamber, its walls adorned with maps and intricate diagrams, a visual manifestation of his grand machinations. As he settled into a chair, his eyes fixated on the table before him.

At the center of the table lay a meticulously crafted roadmap, its surface etched with four pivotal points that constituted the stepping stones to his ultimate goal. One by one, he methodically checked off each achievement. The first goal, the takeover of the Donquixote Family, had already been achieved.

But Vergil's ambitions stretched far beyond mere family. With unwavering focus, he fixated his gaze on the remaining three points, each bearing the weight of an audacious endeavor. Exploiting the chaos of the Marineford War, ascending to the pinnacle of power as the strongest being in existence, and ultimately dethroning Imu.

Presently, his attention was consumed by the second milestone on his path. The war at Marineford loomed on the horizon. As he delved into its intricacies, he meticulously analyzed every facet, seeking the chinks in the armor of warring factions, to find the perfect leverage to exploit amidst the clash of powers.

Days passed, as Vergil immersed himself in a relentless cycle of plotting and training. The seconds turned into minutes, the minutes into hours, and the hours into days, all dedicated to forging his path towards the second milestone on his roadmap to supremacy. He envisioned scenarios, playing out countless variations of events in his mind, searching for the most opportune moment to strike and seize control.

'Assuming everything works out the same as in the anime, Whitebeard will die, while Blackbeard will rob his Devil Fruit,' mused Vergil, his mind ablaze with calculated contemplation. The unfolding events of the future played out in his thoughts.

'I somehow need to prevent this from happening, but how?' Vergil's mind raced, each synapse firing with relentless determination. He dissected the situation from every angle, seeking the perfect convergence of strategy and manipulation. How could he avert the rise of Blackbeard, who dared to usurp the spoils of Whitebeard's demise?

"Looks like I personally need to go there," he concluded. The gravity of the situation demanded his direct involvement, his personal presence at the most pivotal moment. It was a risk, yes, but one that held the promise of immeasurable reward. With his cunning schemes, he could not only secure the Devil Fruit from Whitebeard but also lay claim to the Blackbeard's own Devil Fruit.

'But there still is another question mark, who is this Fang Yuan?' pondered Vergil, his mind traversing the vast landscape of possibilities. The enigmatic name intrigued him, hinting at a Chinese origin that stirred his curiosity. 'Could it be that another soul had been reborn into this world?' The notion fascinated him, igniting a spark of intrigue within his calculating intellect.

The emergence of Fang Yuan, assuming the role of a Shichibukai, had introduced an unforeseen variable, threatening to disrupt the delicate balance of his machinations. Yet, in the face of adversity, Vergil's strategic acumen shone bright, guiding him towards an elegant solution.

"Fang Yuan taking over the position of Shichibukai has led some of my plans to go haywire," Vergil admitted to himself, acknowledging the ripple effect caused by this unknown variable. However, true to his nature, he swiftly pivoted, recalibrating his scheme with deft precision. The prospect of Blackbeard failing to ascend to the status of Shichibukai loomed, but Vergil knew how to in one way or another how to bring fate back to how it was intended to go.

With a calculated move, he averted the disastrous scenario of Blackbeard failing to secure a position as a Shichibukai. Like a master puppeteer pulling the strings of fate, Vergil orchestrated the replacement of Gecko Moria with Blackbeard, seizing the opportunity that had presented itself through Luffy's triumph over Moria. Although the question of who this Fang Yuan is remained, Vergil did not believe that a mere Shichibukai could affect his plans.

'Furthermore, with me being there, I can prevent that traitor Shanks from prematurely ending the war,' mused Vergil, his thoughts weaving a web of calculated maneuvers. The prospect of disrupting Shanks' intervention ignited a sinister gleam in his eyes, envisioning the chaos and opportunities that would arise from such a strategic interference.

He relished the notion of manipulating the chaotic battlefield, ensuring that the war continued, leaving no room for mercy or compromise. In his twisted mind, this calculated move would not only secure the elusive Phoenix Fruit, but also eliminate the potential threat posed by the upstart pirate known as Luffy, while at the same time ensuring Blackbeard's death. In his mind he did not believe that Shanks would actually dare to intervene any more out of fear that Mary Geoise would immediately send the Holy Knight's to support the marines.

His mind, ever meticulous, delved into the realm of intricacies, considering the minor yet advantageous details he could exploit during this war. The thought of enslaving Boa Hancock ignited a twisted smirk on his lips. "Soon, you will be mine," he murmured, his eyes fixated on a poster of the captivating Pirate Empress. The mental image of donning her with a collar, bending her will to his own, sent shivers of anticipation down his spine.

Having meticulously plotted the course of the upcoming days, Vergil allowed himself a moment of indulgence. He retreated to his bedroom, summoning ten alluring women to fulfill his twisted desires.

He was truly grateful to be reincarnated in the world of One Piece as one of the highest ranking individuals, able to enslave, kill and torture almost everyone else as he saw fit.