Crocus froze, eyes flicking toward Roger in disbelief.
Roger's brow furrowed, suspicion shadowing his grin. "So… what you're saying, Young Darren, is that you want my ship's doctor to heal your teacher?"
"Exactly." Darren's voice was steady, his gaze unwavering. "That's my condition."
Buggy immediately exploded. "No way! That old guy's a former Marine Admiral! If we save him, he'll hunt us down again the moment he wakes up!"
Darren turned his head, eyes calm but sharp as blades. Buggy flinched and fell silent.
Gaban stepped forward, his tone grave. "Buggy's right. Have you forgotten who we are? We're pirates—he's our enemy."
Rayleigh folded his arms, his expression unreadable. "Zephyr's a Marine to the core. We may respect his ideals, but that doesn't mean we owe him anything."
The moment the Vice-Captains spoke, murmurs of agreement rippled through the crew.
"Exactly!"
"He's hunted us for years!"
"He's too dangerous to save!"
Darren ignored them all. His gaze stayed locked on Roger.
"So, Captain," he said quietly. "What's your call?"
Roger scratched his beard, visibly torn. "Hmmm… well, they're not wrong," he admitted, his tone hesitant. "Zephyr's a tough bastard, but he's been a pain in the ass for decades. If we heal him, he'll probably just keep coming after us again later..."
"Oh, I see."
Darren nodded slowly, his expression one of exaggerated disappointment. He sighed, shaking his head. "And here I thought the great Pirate King would have more guts than this. Turns out you're just a coward after all."
Oh no.
Rayleigh and Gaban froze, dread pooling in their stomachs.
He didn't just—
"What the hell did you say?!" Roger's nostrils flared, his eyes bulging, his nose hair practically vibrating with rage. "I'm Gol D. Roger! The man who conquered the Grand Line! You dare call me a coward?!"
Buggy and several crewmates lunged to hold him back.
"Captain, don't fall for it!"
"He's baiting you!"
"Don't let him get in your head!"
"Get off me!" Roger roared, shaking them off like insects. He pointed a furious finger at Darren. "You little brat—explain yourself! How am I a coward?!"
Darren tilted his head, his expression maddeningly calm. "Isn't it obvious? You're afraid. You're scared Crocus might heal Zephyr… because deep down, you know that once he's back on his feet, he'll hand your Pirate King ass to you without even breaking a sweat."
Gasps rippled through the crew.
Darren sighed, spreading his arms dramatically. "The so-called Pirate King, trembling at the thought of an old man with one arm. Tsk, tsk. I guess the title really is just newspaper hype."
Then he twisted the knife. "But it makes sense. After all, the Roger Pirates have spent years running from Vice Admiral Garp like frightened dogs. I'd be terrified too."
The entire crew went dead silent. Roger's face turned crimson.
Even Rayleigh winced. Oh, he's dead now.
Darren gave a thin smile. "Face it, even crippled, Zephyr could still beat you into the ground."
Roger's veins bulged. "Bullshit!" he roared, tearing himself free from his crew's grasp. "When have I ever feared that bastard Garp?! I've fought him a hundred times—and I've never lost once!"
Darren raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Really? That's not what I've heard."
He's doing it again—! Rayleigh groaned and buried his face in his hands.
"CROCUS!!" Roger bellowed, veins throbbing on his forehead as he pointed furiously toward Zephyr's unconscious body. "Heal him! Use everything you've got! I'll show this brat exactly who's afraid of whom!"
Thump, thump, thump—
Several crew members fainted on the spot. Buggy fell backward with a strangled shriek. Gaban rubbed his temples, muttering curses.
Crocus stood frozen in disbelief, sweat dripping down his forehead.
He… he actually fell for it.
Across the fire, Darren's lips curved upward, satisfaction glinting in his eyes.
---
Night fell. A bonfire crackled softly on the barren shore.
Zephyr lay beside it, still unconscious, his chest rising and falling faintly. Crocus worked tirelessly under the firelight, hands steady as he applied medicine and stitched wounds.
Two camps sat apart around the flames.
On one side, Darren lounged casually, cigar between his fingers, smoke curling lazily upward.
On the other, the Roger Pirates huddled together, stiff and silent.
Buggy and Shanks peeked nervously from behind Rayleigh's shoulder, their eyes darting toward Darren with a mix of awe and fear. The rest kept their hands on their weapons, eyes wary, as though one wrong move might mean death.
Even the flicker of the fire felt tense.
Then Darren moved.
Whoosh!
His hand twitched. Instantly, every Roger Pirate jumped to their feet, blades drawn, muscles coiled to strike.
Buggy and Shanks squeaked and held up their knives.
Roger: "…"
Rayleigh: "…"
Gaban: "…"
Darren calmly reached toward the fire—grabbed a slab of roasted meat—and bit into it.
"Mmm. Not bad," he said with a satisfied smile. "Who cooked this?"
A long, awkward pause.
"…I-I did," Shanks stammered, raising a trembling hand.
Darren looked at him for a moment, then nodded approvingly. "Not bad, kid. You've got talent."
The crew remained frozen, too afraid to move.
Finally, Darren exhaled a puff of smoke and leaned back. "Relax. I'm not your enemy anymore."
He smiled faintly. "I'm the most dangerous criminal in the world now."
Roger immediately shot up, pointing a finger at him. "Second! The second most dangerous! I'm number one now!"
"…Fine," Darren sighed. "You're number one. I'm number two. Happy?"
Roger crossed his arms smugly. "Very."
Darren smirked. "Good. Because right now, we're both on the same side of the noose. The World Government wants both our heads."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming in the firelight.
"So believe me, Roger. The last thing on my mind… is fighting you."
He exhaled a long stream of smoke, the faint smile never leaving his face.
"Right now, there's a much bigger enemy worth my time."
"To hell with fighting pirates—" he said quietly, eyes hardening into steel.
"I'm going after the World Government."
To be continued...