"What becomes of that lad Daren matters little to this old man... nor will it alter the current situation in any way."
After a few seconds of contemplation, Sengoku spoke slowly.
"Red the Aloof" Patrick Redfield was a master of swordsmanship and Observation Haki. His Observation Haki, in particular, allowed him not only to foresee the future but also to perceive human hearts to a certain degree.
The combination of these two abilities granted him a decisive advantage—he could anticipate an opponent's every move and intention with ease. This allowed Redfield to face any foe calmly, even those whose raw strength far surpassed his own.
Unfortunately, his insight into human hearts was not something that could be trained. It was innate.
As for the "future-foreseeing" aspect of Observation Haki, even if that brat Daren managed to grasp that faint possibility and master it, the state of the seas would remain unchanged.
The World Government's eight hundred years of dominance isn't something that mere "future-foreseeing" Observation Haki could ever challenge.
Hearing Sengoku's words, Borsalino's eyes flickered slightly, but he said nothing.
The two remained silent for a long while before Sengoku turned back to him and spoke again.
"Borsalino, this matter must remain absolutely confidential. Not a single soul can know."
His tone was solemn, his expression cautious.
"Rest assured, Admiral Sengoku."
Borsalino gave a lazy smile.
"I know how to handle things... Oh, that reminds me—the Marines' Special Science Group is still short on funds to purchase the latest research equipment."
Sengoku: "..."
The corner of his eye twitched as he replied stiffly.
"And if I refuse?"
Borsalino shrugged and let out a sigh.
"If Admiral Sengoku refuses, I completely understand. After all, military budgets are always tight these days."
"If that's the case, I suppose I'll just file a funding request with the World Government instead."
"But then the government might send auditors to inspect Headquarters... Admiral Sengoku, you wouldn't want them discovering a rather large, unexplained fund appearing in our accounts, would you?"
Sengoku: "..."
This is a threat…
This is absolutely a threat!
"Borsalino... Are you threatening me?"
Sengoku gritted his teeth, lowering his voice.
Borsalino froze for a moment before raising his hands in mock alarm.
"Of course not, Admiral Sengoku... I'm only thinking of your best interests. After all, this concerns your entire political career!"
Sengoku: "..."
He glanced at Borsalino, then suddenly broke into a bright, almost exaggerated smile.
"You truly are my adjutant!"
"Submit an application to the Administrative Department later, and I'll approve it immediately... It's just a bit of funding, isn't it? No need to trouble the government with it!"
Sengoku thumped his chest with a firm slap, his face beaming with forced enthusiasm.
"Then I'd like to thank Admiral Sengoku for his support of scientific research."
Borsalino smiled with satisfaction before strolling leisurely away. He unfolded a deck chair on the distant deck and settled comfortably into it.
Sengoku: "..."
A stiff smile remained plastered on his face. After taking several deep breaths, he finally turned and headed toward the cabin.
Once he entered and firmly secured the door behind him, Sengoku stood in the dimly lit room, silent for a long while.
Then, the cabin echoed with the furious roar of the Navy Admiral.
"This is a disaster!!"
...
Deep Sea Prison, Impel Down.
First Deck Platform.
"Come on, give me a hand!"
"So much cargo! What is all this?!"
"My goodness... nothing but premium tobacco and liquor, frozen fresh meat, ham, and bacon!"
"I knew Headquarters never abandoned Impel Down!"
"How could that be? Don't forget how we've lived all these years!"
"Then why are they sending us all this... Wait, what's that? Watermelons and bananas? Am I seeing things?! Fresh fruit!"
"..."
The guards stared in disbelief at the endless stream of cargo being unloaded from the supply ship. Some were thrilled, others stunned, some suspicious, and many more were moved to tears.
Although their positions in Impel Down came with salaries envied by ordinary citizens and allowances for enduring such harsh conditions, their isolation left them with no access to luxury goods.
To maintain security, the prison's internal supplies were always tightly regulated. Every resupply had to be transported from the outside world via specialized ships, and those vessels had limited cargo space.
As a result, anything beyond basic necessities—such as cigarettes, cigars, alcohol, or fresh fruit—was never included.
So when they saw crates filled with tobacco, liquor, candy, tea, coffee, and fruit being unloaded, everyone froze in shock, unable to believe their eyes. It felt like they were dreaming.
"Stop spacing out! Get all this cargo to Level Five!"
Commissioner Borgus marched over, steel pitchfork in hand, arms akimbo, barking the order.
...
Level Six Underground: Eternal Hell.
The wide prison corridor still reeked of rot and blood. The oil lamps on the walls flickered stubbornly, casting wavering pools of light.
A dozen prisoners lay sprawled across the floor, bruised and battered, groaning in pain as their pitiful cries echoed through the hall.
At the center stood Daren, panting heavily, his upper body bare and covered in scars.
Blood streaked down his arms and dripped from the Seastone shackles around his wrists onto the cold stone floor. A black cloth covered his eyes, and each breath he exhaled turned into mist in the frigid air.
From within the cells on both sides of the corridor, pairs of eerie green eyes glimmered in the darkness—like beasts lurking in the shadows, staring hungrily at him.
"Your progress is becoming more and more apparent."
A voice filled with amusement broke the silence.
As the dim light shifted, Redfield's figure emerged from the darkness. Dressed in prison garb, he sat elegantly on the ground, calm as ever.
"You Marines from Headquarters—each of you 'monsters' is more surprising than the last."
"You?"
Daren's breathing suddenly halted.
He frowned, lifted his hand, and tore off the blindfold, narrowing his eyes at Redfield.
"You mean... someone else came to you before me?"