"You need a few days to recover?" Sengoku raised an eyebrow, then, recalling Darren's monstrous physique, gave a reluctant nod. "Alright. I'll personally authorize a short medical leave."
"Thank you, Admiral Sengoku."
"Now then—what's the situation in Wano?"
His voice dropped into a graver tone, and the air shifted instantly. The business of war had no room for levity.
Meanwhile, back in the Pleasure District...
Darren exhaled a lazy stream of smoke, his half-lidded eyes watching the neon blur of nightlife flicker past.
"As I reported, Admiral," he said calmly, "Kaido has led the Beasts Pirates into Wano Country and established a vast armament industry there."
"The scale of Wano's military production is at least double that of their former base—the one we destroyed."
Sengoku's pupils shrank. He hadn't grasped the full scope of it yesterday, but now, hearing it laid bare, he felt a chill creep through his bones.
A production line that massive... What is Kaido trying to build? A private army to conquer the world?
"Is he planning to spark a world war?" Sengoku muttered, mostly to himself.
But something else quickly nagged at him.
"Wait—Darren, you said Kaido's already seized control of Wano. Didn't the local samurai resist him? What happened to their warrior clans?"
Wano was an isolated, fiercely traditional land. It wasn't the sort of place that welcomed outsiders—especially not pirate crews. The samurai wouldn't have submitted easily, not even to Kaido.
"That part's unclear," Darren answered vaguely. "He may have allied with certain factions."
Of course, he knew exactly what had happened. Kurozumi Orochi had colluded with Kaido, using betrayal to overthrow the rightful heir of Wano—Kozuki Oden.
Sengoku's face darkened. If Kaido had truly gained a foothold in Wano, the situation was far more dire than they'd feared. Even a full-scale Marine assault would struggle to crack that fortress of a country.
"Let's not forget," Sengoku said grimly, "King the Wildfire can fly. That bastard's no pushover."
Infiltrating Wano was already a strategic nightmare. But if the Marines launched an invasion and found themselves battling both pirates and samurai... things could spiral out of control.
This wasn't a simple pirate suppression. This was geopolitics—an attack on a sovereign nation, cloaked in shadowy alliances.
Sengoku slowly exhaled and rubbed his temples. "I see now."
"You did well, Darren."
The intel was vital. With it, the Marines could map the contours of Wano's military strength and prepare for the war that might come.
Then Darren added, almost offhandedly, "During the investigation, I engaged Kaido directly. I only managed to destroy about a third of their factory lines before I was forced to retreat—took a bad hit."
Sengoku blinked.
"...You fought Kaido. And escaped?"
He nodded slowly. "Even I wouldn't guarantee a win against him. You're lucky to have gotten out alive—wait, hang on."
He sat bolt upright, eyes wide.
"You destroyed a third of the factory lines?!"
Darren gave a casual shrug. "Well, I was already there. Figured I'd break something on my way out."
Already there, so why not...
Sengoku's mouth twitched.
If Kaido ever heard that, he'd probably transform into his dragon form just to fall out of the sky in rage.
Even with years of experience, Sengoku found himself momentarily speechless.
Finally, he managed, "Right... you did well."
"If that's all, Admiral, I'll focus on recovering now," Darren said, flashing a lazy grin.
He was still deep in the Pleasure District, after all—and now that he officially had time off, he had every intention of using it. The air buzzed with music and mischief, and he could already hear laughter drifting from the bathhouses.
"Hmph." Sengoku was about to hang up, then paused as if recalling something. "Oh, right—Darren. One more thing."
"Stay away from Stussy."
His voice sharpened.
"She's not someone you want to get entangled with. Her roots run deep. That woman is far more dangerous than she appears."
Too late, old man. We've already crossed lines that can't be uncrossed.
"Understood, Admiral Sengoku!" Darren declared with mock solemnity. "I'm a seasoned Marine. I won't be easily tempted!"
Unless temptation walks right up to me.
Sengoku: …
Oddly enough, Darren's firm declaration only made Sengoku more uneasy.
With this kid, temptation doesn't have to walk—it just has to smile.
He sighed.
He knew Darren all too well.
The kid wasn't bad, exactly. But between his weakness for women, his lust for power, and his unfortunate fondness for money, he was a walking ulcer.
"Just stay away from that woman," Sengoku growled, gritting his teeth.
"Yeah, yeah," Darren said with a shrug.
Bit late for that, Admiral. She's already dancing in the palm of my hand.
Sengoku narrowed his eyes, reading too much into Darren's tone.
He hesitated... and then dropped the hammer:
"Gion already knows you're in the Pleasure District."
Darren: ???
His expression froze. A nerve twitched in his temple.
Then, like a switch flipped, his entire demeanor changed.
"Admiral Sengoku," he said with utmost seriousness, "please inform Gion that my presence here is purely tactical. Strictly unavoidable."
"I am—without question—recovering while continuing to gather critical intelligence."
Sengoku watched the Den Den Mushi's frantic expressions, a slow grin forming on his face.
So. Even this little devil has someone he fears.
"Then behave yourself, Darren," he said slyly. "Would be a shame if Gion heard something... unfortunate."
Darren: ...
There's something really off about you today, old man.
"Understood, Admiral," he ground out.
As the call ended, Darren rubbed his temples in resignation.
The old bastard's picking up tricks. I'm starting to feel what Stussy must go through.
Just then, a familiar, astonished shout rang out from across the street.
"Da-Darren?!"
Darren looked up—and froze.
Tokikake stood there in all his ridiculous glory, cigar clamped between his teeth, pants barely held up, looking for all the world like a man returning triumphant from battle. He stared at Darren with wide eyes, pointing as if he'd seen a ghost.
Darren's gaze slowly shifted to the clock hanging outside the tabloid office.
Five minutes.
It had only been five minutes since that fool swaggered into the club.
To be continued...