Not Built in a Day
His empire had grown.
SMILE was a household name, a brand to be desired by the common folk and prestigious sort alike. The variety alone gave it renown, but the quality versus the cost was what truly sold it. So many garments at a fraction of the price of most high-end lines, while the most luxurious of products were sold for a small fortune, because for some quality was equal to price.
The key to his success was the workforce, squirreling away in the depths of his factories. Bunkers sat deep, deep below the monstrous factories that churned out clothes, housing hundreds of children who worked tirelessly and with increasing merriment. The Warlord had provided them, most urchins from the street, with a home and an allowance. It was only a pittance of what a regular worker would cost, but all basic amenities were free of charge. Catalogs from various stores were brought down regularly and the children could select things to purchase with their money and it would be delivered. The prices were increased on these custom made shopping lists, the extra going back into the business.
Children were fickle though, even if they were cheap, so Doflamingo had employed another tried and true method of keeping them in line. It had worked for him in the past, so why not now? Part of the reason the children were so happy was due to the fine powder mixed into their every meal. No one was held against their will, but if they wanted to stay they needed to keep their purpose a secret. None could break the addiction of habit, or the substance he was slipping them.
They werenât slaves, not officially. Urchins and beggars barely had rights to begin with, especially those deemed missing. Only in mind were they tied to his rule.
Security was strict, although not as impressive as he desired. He was working on improving that, guaranteeing that none would cross him. Even now it would be a mean feat to infiltrate his industrial fortresses, but he wasnât satisfied. There were better men, keener eyes to acquire. Â Distribution was infuriating, too. He could improve it, slap a dress on the likes of Boa Hancock and sales would ascend even higher than they soared now. All in good time.
Pandora had taken their powers, sheâd boasted as much, but her folly was that she didnât seem to know the true meaning of the word. Had his cunning been curbed? Had his understanding of morality been cleansed? The stupid woman had taken only what idiots deemed powerful, the abilities and weapons accumulated on the seas. Doflamingo had more in his arsenal, unseen threats that strangled men in their sleep. He was still powerful, and with money that was even more the truth.Â
His empire had grown, but the borders must still expand. Pandora had tried to put the tide of his ambition in a sieve and claim it a cage. Sheâd soon drown in his rise.
