23: Doflamingo’s control over blood was not limited to his own body.
It extended to everyone.
Just as his instincts had told him earlier, the smallest bleeding wound on Vergo’s body might be enough for Doflamingo to seize control of his blood and drain him dry.
The ability had not yet been tested in actual combat, but Doflamingo could already sense how dangerous it was.
Extremely dangerous.
Against an enemy who knew nothing about his power, even someone substantially stronger than him could lose the moment they suffered a single bleeding wound.
If they were caught off guard, Doflamingo might be able to empty their body of blood before they understood what was happening.
It was the kind of ability that could overturn an entire battle.
For now, however, that remained only a theory.
He would need a suitable opponent before he could determine how effective it truly was.
The blood circling Doflamingo’s hand flowed like crimson silk.
A moment later, it condensed into the shape of a dagger and settled in his palm.
“You can shape the blood?” Vergo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s right.” Doflamingo coated the blood dagger in Armament Haki.
Its crimson surface instantly hardened into polished black.
He reversed his grip and drove it into the table.
The blade sank into the wood as smoothly as a real weapon.
Doflamingo then released the Haki and dismissed the shape.
The dagger collapsed into a pool of blood, which began running down through the cut in the table.
Before it could reach the floor, the blood reversed direction.
It flew back toward Doflamingo’s palm and gathered into a compact sphere.
He closed his hand around it.
When he opened his fingers again, the blood was gone.
Doflamingo carefully examined the changes inside his body.
After reabsorbing the blood, the total volume circulating through his veins had not increased.
His body contained exactly as much blood as before.
Yet a faint trace of vitality had gathered within his heart.
Once again, the knowledge surfaced instinctively.
His heart served as a reservoir.
Any blood he absorbed would be converted according to its quality into stored vitality, which would remain inside his heart.
That reserve granted him one of a vampire’s most fundamental abilities: Rapid regeneration.
Whenever Doflamingo suffered an injury, his heart could release the stored vitality and use it to repair his body.
The reserve would also continuously counter the gradual decline caused by aging and ordinary cellular deterioration.
In other words, as long as he regularly replenished his vitality, he might live for centuries.
That was one reason Patrick Redfield had pursued this Devil Fruit so desperately in the future.
The Mythical Zoan was extraordinarily powerful, but it also allowed him to steal vitality from others, restore his youth, and return to his physical prime.
Doflamingo’s mood improved further as he understood the ability.
It eliminated many of the risks that normally accompanied battle.
He could now adopt far more aggressive tactics, including trading injuries or even accepting wounds that would ordinarily be fatal.
As long as his heart and brain were not destroyed, most other damage could be repaired if he possessed enough stored vitality.
Even hidden injuries accumulated over years of combat would no longer threaten him.
There was a major difference between aging pirates and aging Marines.
Very few older pirates managed to preserve their bodies at their peak.
Whitebeard was the clearest example.
In his prime, he had been known as the strongest man in the world and had dominated an era for nearly two decades after Roger.
Yet even someone as powerful as Whitebeard eventually became burdened by illness and old wounds.
He required constant medical treatment and could no longer display the full strength of his younger years.
Senior Marines generally aged better.
They had access to excellent logistics, medical care, and opportunities for proper recovery.
Unlike pirates, they did not need to flee immediately after every battle or endure years without adequate treatment.
As a result, many veteran Marine officers retained formidable combat ability well into old age.
Garp was the most obvious example.
Even at seventy-eight, he remained capable of devastating an island with a single punch and overwhelming Kuzan in close combat.
He ate recklessly, appeared perfectly healthy, and showed fewer signs of decline than Whitebeard despite being older.
Natural talent played a role, but proper care mattered enormously.
Doflamingo had now gained something even better.
From this point onward, age and accumulated injuries no longer needed to diminish his strength.
If he maintained enough stored vitality, he could preserve his peak condition indefinitely.
After examining himself more carefully, Doflamingo concluded that these were the principal abilities the fruit had granted him instinctively.
Anything beyond them would require patient development and experimentation.
Devil Fruit development was strangely dependent on imagination.
Perhaps Vegapunk’s theory was correct.
Devil Fruits resembled wishes or desires given form.
As long as an idea maintained some conceptual relationship with the fruit’s nature, it could potentially be developed into a real ability.
Doflamingo had planned to consume this fruit long before obtaining it.
He had therefore spent considerable time thinking about possible applications.
Now that the power was finally his, he could begin putting those ideas into practice.
“There’s certainly no shortage of things to work on,” Doflamingo said with a faintly helpless smile.
“I need to continue training my Haki.
Once we return, I also plan to have Diamante help me rebuild my swordsmanship foundation.” “And now I need to develop this Devil Fruit as well.” Vergo smiled.
“That isn’t all.
The Family constantly produces matters that require your personal judgment.” “Fuffuffuffu… I really have become busy.” Doflamingo did not sound unhappy.
He understood that there was a difference between meaningless exhaustion and productive work.
When effort steadily improved one’s abilities, organization, and position, it meant progress was being made.
As long as he continued, the rewards would eventually justify the burden.
Doflamingo rose and walked toward the cabinet.
He intended to open a bottle of champagne and celebrate becoming a Devil Fruit user.
As he passed one of the cabin windows, sunlight fell across his body.
He immediately felt uncomfortable.
Doflamingo stopped.
Every Devil Fruit seemed to carry some kind of limitation or disadvantage.
Was sunlight the weakness of the Bat-Bat Fruit, Model: Vampire?
Would direct exposure eventually set him on fire?
If so, the fruit would be far more troublesome than he had expected.
To determine the severity of the effect, Doflamingo forced himself to remain in front of the window.
He stood directly beneath the sunlight and carefully monitored his body.
The light was genuinely unpleasant.
But it was nowhere near strong enough to reduce him to ash.
His skin did not even begin to burn.
The discomfort seemed primarily instinctive and psychological.
Some creatures naturally sought light.
Others preferred darkness.
Doflamingo had never possessed either inclination before.
Now his body instinctively favored darkness and resisted sunlight.
That appeared to be the extent of it.
After standing there for a while, however, he noticed a slight decline in his physical condition.
It was not that the sunlight had truly weakened him.
Rather, the instinctive discomfort made him lethargic and unwilling to exert himself.
Sunlight made him sleepy.
A moment later, a thick cloud drifted across the sky and blocked the rays striking the window.
The drowsiness disappeared immediately.
Doflamingo became alert and energetic again.