"What did you say?!" Sengoku's face twisted in disbelief, as if he couldn't trust his own ears.
How did that brat Darren end up on Fish-Man Island?
No—wrong question.
Why is he fighting Roger of all people on Fish-Man Island?!
How could Darren possibly withstand Roger's power?
His mind raced, the tea running down his chin forgotten. He knew better than anyone how terrifying Roger was. Even if he and Garp teamed up, there was no guarantee of a clean victory.
At their level, differences were razor-thin. Without a specific ability edge or favorable terrain, a decisive result rarely came quick.
In the past, Garp had often cornered the Roger Pirates, but that was largely thanks to the Marines' overwhelming firepower.
Darren had clawed his way to Marine Admiral-level strength, yes—but there was still a long road between him and a legendary Conqueror like Roger.
"No," Sengoku muttered. "This doesn't make sense."
He drew a slow breath and forced himself calm. "If it's just Roger alone, Darren should be able to retreat even if he can't win. With that monstrous physique, Roger won't kill him quickly."
"Hm. That tracks…"
The messenger swallowed. "Intelligence reports say the entire Roger Pirates crew is on Fish-Man Island."
Sengoku: …
"Why didn't you say that first?!"
His eyes flared. He seized the messenger by the collar; spittle flew. The messenger looked ready to cry.
"B-but you said, 'Stay calm. With me here, we can handle anything…'" he quavered.
"They've already engaged in fierce combat. Specific details remain unknown…"
Sengoku let him go, face set in stone. He strode to the desk, snatched up the military Den Den Mushi, and thrust it at the messenger.
"Patch me through to Garp. Now."
The messenger hesitated. "But Admiral Sengoku, Vice Admiral Garp is on leave…"
Sengoku's temper snapped. He slammed a fist onto the desk and surged upright.
"I don't care if he's on vacation!"
The messenger flinched and dialed. After a few rings, the line clicked.
"Hahaha! Sengoku, bored enough to call me for a chat?" Garp's voice boomed through the shell. "Oh—and I didn't steal the senbei from your office!"
So that's why less than half the box is left.
Sengoku ground his teeth. No time for this. "Garp, vacation's over."
"Darren's locked in a fierce fight with pirates on Fish-Man Island. You're vacationing nearby, right? Move. Support him."
On the other end, Garp lounged on a beach chair, basking in the sun. He snorted. "That kid's plenty strong. Why bother me? I finally got a few days off…"
"…His opponent is Roger."
Silence. Then the clatter of a chair toppling and a glass shattering.
"Tell that brat to hold on! I'm on my way!" Garp roared, urgency and fury clashing in his voice.
Sengoku: …
Conqueror's Haki +1.04!
Conqueror's Haki: 76.889!
It moved.
Finally, it moved.
Feeling his Haki surge, Darren nearly laughed aloud, eyes blazing with feral light.
Ever since Kaido-sensei's "lessons" in Wano, his growth had frozen solid.
He could still see the readout he'd checked after the brutal fight with Bullet:
Physique: 92.112 (Indestructible Body) Strength: 83.291 (Giant's Strength)
Speed: 83.833 (Soru's Divine Speed)
Devil Fruit: 85.894 (Island-Covering)
Armament Haki: 72.715 (Internal Destruction, Demon Form)
Observation Haki: 75.121 (Magnetic Field Sensing)
Conqueror's Haki: 75.577
After that clash, nothing worth mentioning had changed. Physique had crept up barely two-tenths.
Even after fighting Gecko Moria and Mihawk, there wasn't the slightest uptick.
They simply weren't strong enough to push him past his limits.
But now—
Standing against Gol D. Roger, the future Pirate King and one of the era's mightiest, a single exchange had shattered the shackles on his will, granting a full 1.04 boost.
That palpable leap made him forget his wounds.
So worth it.
A 1.04 gain. It might look small, but against a weakling like Moria, he'd have to crush him with Conqueror's Haki countless times to squeeze out the same progress.
More than that, the pressure had carved a new, razor focus into him. Mind and body locked together; even his Observation Haki refined under that unity.
Observation Haki: 0.86!
His first improvement in Observation since "training" with Charlotte Katakuri.
"Yes. That's it."
Blood dripped steadily from his arm, spattering the ground. Darren wiped his mouth and laughed without restraint.
His black hair whipped; his blood-streaked white cloak snapped in the wind.
A fiercer aura unfurled. Armament Haki surged until it formed a visible, dark-crimson squall. The ground split; nearby buildings groaned under the strain.
He flung his arms wide, laughing like a lunatic. His fingers curled, and red lightning climbed his knuckles, bursting in sparks that raced up his forearms.
"Just as I thought. Crossing blades with a monster like you—that's what makes it worth it, Roger!"
The Roger Pirates stared, aghast—faces drained, eyes wide, mouths hanging open.
"A m-madman…"
"Doesn't it… hurt?"
"He's already at death's door…"
"This monster…"
Buggy and Shanks shivered. Under that demonic pressure and the Vice Admiral's crazed grin, sweat pooled on their brows; the terror of their first encounter with him rose like a tide.
Rayleigh and Gaban traded a long look, the same grim worry reflected in both faces.
They'd realized something chilling: despite the gash he'd taken, the brat's aura had grown stronger.
He was adapting to Roger's pressure in real time.
Sharpened by that battle focus, his Armament Haki began to spit crimson lightning—a rare sign of extreme control pushed to the edge.
"This is bad," Rayleigh murmured, eyes narrowing.
"Hahahaha! Not bad for a little punk!"
Roger either didn't notice the change—or noticed and didn't care. With his sword wreathed in crimson-black current, he beamed at Darren with naked admiration and roared with laughter.
"It's been far too long since I felt this alive!"
He turned and bellowed, "Listen up! No one interferes!" Then, without waiting for an answer, he locked his feral gaze back onto Darren. "Little Brat Darren—let's have a bloody, no-holds-barred brawl!"
Darren sank low, hands braced to the ground, a caged beast straining at iron bars. Red lightning flashed in his eyes; his grin turned savage.
"Just what I wanted."
BOOM!
Power detonated beneath his feet; the ground collapsed as he launched.
"HAHAHAHA!" Roger roared, lifting his blade one-handed as he charged headlong.
They slammed into each other again with a world-shaking crash.
Near the entrance to Fish-Man Island, a swath a kilometer wide lay scorched to ruin. Waves of force—crosshatched with black and crimson lightning—boomed outward in dense, rippling patterns.
The Roger Pirates and everyone else had fallen back to a safer distance, faces pale as they watched the two figures trade blows in the wreckage, stunned to silence.
Black-and-crimson sword arcs twisted with lightning-sheathed fists. Both men vanished into a blood-red haze of battle; each impact felt like a meteor strike, blasting out shockwaves that rattled the world.
Above Fish-Man Island, the sea of clouds shattered and knit itself together under the onslaught. Even the vast bubble membrane around the island rippled visibly, sending ice down Neptune's spine and leaving the Fish-Men trembling.
"Hahahaha! This is exhilarating! I never thought anyone besides Garp and Newgate could give me a fight this satisfying!"
Roger laughed, eyes burning crimson. His face was bruised purple; blood threaded from the corner of his mouth. He didn't seem to notice. He was drunk on battle.
With a shout, his Haki-charged blade flashed like lightning. A crimson arc took the charging Vice Admiral head-on and hammered him into the ground, coughing up a mountain of dust.
An instant later, a blood-slick figure burst out of the crater. Darren's body was a map of gaping cuts, blood pouring from every seam as if he'd been dragged through a vat of dye. Yet the madness in his eyes only brightened, and a grin fought to split his face.
With each clash, he could almost hear it—his body toughening, his will hardening, his power climbing.
Conqueror's Haki: 0.76! Conqueror's Haki: 0.89! Conqueror's Haki: 0.87! Conqueror's Haki: 0.92!
Darren's Conqueror's Haki rocketed upward, racing toward the 80-point threshold. From experience, he knew that crossing it would unlock a new attribute bonus—and he hungered for it.
"Don't try any tricks, Roger! You promised one-on-one!" he snarled, hands warping mid-air into three-fingered dragon claws. Armament Haki crackled crimson as he raked for Roger's throat.
"Keep your pants up this time, or they'll fall again!"
"Dragon's Claw!"
Roger's blade flicked up, sparks cascading as he parried. He howled with laughter. "Hahahaha! Don't worry! This is our duel!"
"And this time, I swapped the buckle for a plastic one!"
They broke apart, landed hard, and crashed together again.
The world dimmed, chaos swallowing light.
In the distance, Rayleigh, Gaban, and the others heard Roger's shout. They kept their faces stiff by sheer force, black lines of exasperation forming in their minds.
"Such a blatant taunt. Only our idiot captain would rise to it."
Buggy skidded up, face flushed with panic. "Captain Rayleigh! Let's swarm him! We can finish that Marine here!"
He was terrified.
How long had it been?
That terrifying Marine had already grown strong enough to trade evenly with Captain Roger.
Even if he was being pushed back, it would still take time for Roger to put him down while he wore that Demon Form.
If he survived and escaped…
Buggy shuddered hard.
He hadn't forgotten that Marine wanted to kill both him and Shanks!
To be continued...