Half an hour later, the ravine looked like a war zone.
The stream had been dammed into muddy pools, trees lay uprooted or snapped clean in half, and the ground was a spiderweb of cracks and craters. Yamakaji and the others were strewn across the shattered earth like fallen scarecrows, bruised, bleeding, and groaning in pain.
It was not a pretty sight.
"Well, that's all for today's special training," Darren declared.
He was sprawled comfortably across Tokikake's broad chest as if it were a reclining chair, one leg casually crossed over the other. His gaze swept over their battered faces; he exhaled a long dragon-like plume of smoke and felt nothing but refreshed.
His instincts had been right—this "light exercise" really was hastening his recovery. His breathing was smoother, the ache in his chest less oppressive.
"Go back and rest up. Same time tomorrow."
At his cheerful announcement, the ravine filled with fresh howls and wails.
---
Night fell.
After a simple dinner, Darren took a bottle of liquor and wandered alone to the shoreline.
The sea breeze blew cool and steady, carrying the salt tang of the waves as they crashed rhythmically against the jagged reef. Foam hissed where the surf broke against stone, white in the moonlight.
A tall, broad-shouldered, one-armed figure was already standing at the water's edge.
The familiar white coat of justice was gone; in its place was a dark, heavy cloak that seemed to drink in the night, lending the former Marine Admiral's silhouette an even grimmer weight. A cigar smoldered between his teeth, the ember pulsing faintly in the dark.
"Zephyr-sensei," Darren called, tossing the bottle.
Zephyr caught it one-handed, glanced at the label, and chuckled. "Sherry."
Darren strolled up beside him, grinning. "Yeah. Your favorite. Kuzan's obsessed with it too—says it's the most 'Haki-infused' drink there is."
"Kuzan…" At the name, Zephyr's eyes softened with memory. "That hot-blooded brat reminds me too much of myself when I was young…" His chapped lips twitched. "…He's going to get burned sooner or later."
Darren gave him a sideways look, voice mild. "Everyone walks their own path… You were the one who taught us that, Zephyr-sensei."
Zephyr fell quiet.
He stared down at the bottle of sherry in his hand. After a moment, he suddenly asked, "Young Darren… do you think my life… was a failure?"
He twisted the cap off, tilted his head back, and drank in a long pull. The liquor burned down his throat, setting off a rough coughing fit. He sucked in a few ragged breaths, eyes still fixed on the distant, dark horizon, then let out a low, self-mocking laugh.
"From the time I was a kid, I dreamed of becoming a hero, of protecting the world's justice… but in the end, I couldn't protect anything."
"You protected Toki," Darren cut in, his tone firm. "You can't use one blunt measure to judge a life."
"You might not have become some grand 'Hero of the Marines,' but you're already a hero in countless people's hearts."
"You couldn't save your own family… but you saved me, and the families of more people than you'll ever know."
"You never became Fleet Admiral… but your legend still echoes across the seas."
"I could keep listing reasons, but the most important thing is this, Zephyr-sensei…"
He turned fully toward the old man, meeting his weary eyes head-on.
"Your life… isn't over yet."
Zephyr froze, silent for a long time. Eventually he let out a dry chuckle. "You always know exactly what to say, don't you, brat?"
"If Sakazuki were standing here, and I asked him the same thing, he'd probably say, 'Yes, Zephyr-sensei. Your life has been a complete failure.'"
Darren nodded. "He wouldn't be entirely wrong."
Zephyr: "..."
He inhaled deeply, visibly restraining the urge to smack the boy into the sea, then slowly exhaled.
"Young Darren, I know you're worried about me. About Tokikake and the others too. Deep down, you want to invite us to join the North Blue Fleet."
"But like you said—everyone has their own path."
"What true justice is… I didn't understand it in the past. And I still don't understand it now. But that doesn't mean I'm going to give up."
He smiled faintly, as though something inside him had finally settled.
"When I was in the Marines, so many things were wrapped in fog… But now, the answers might be different."
Zephyr turned around.
His slightly hunched back slowly straightened. His remaining fist clenched tight.
"I'll lead them to rebuild an army—an army completely independent of the World Government's control."
"…An army that will pursue true justice."
As the last words left his lips, an overwhelming aura erupted from Zephyr's body, surging outward like a storm.
His dark cloak snapped in the night wind, cracking like a battle flag under a thunderhead.
He stood there, as sharp and unyielding as a war spear planted in the earth.
Darren stared, momentarily dazed.
So that's how it is…
You've awakened Conqueror's Haki too, haven't you?
Then he caught himself, a strange look flickering across his face.
…Wait. Why did I say "too"?
He focused, sensing the pressure radiating from Zephyr. A glint of genuine shock flashed in his eyes.
Even though he'd just awakened, the intensity of Zephyr's Conqueror's Haki… was already on par with Sengoku's.
…And why did I say "already"?
---
After parting ways with Zephyr, Darren walked along the beach toward the mansion, a newly lit cigar smoldering between his fingers. His thoughts drifted with the smoke.
Zephyr-sensei had chosen his path. Darren wouldn't try to force him onto another.
This Zephyr was no longer the man from the original history. He had the Float-Float Fruit. Now he'd awakened Conqueror's Haki as well—an enormous leap in power. Once his injuries healed and his custom prosthetic arm was forged, the old man's Haki and hand-to-hand prowess would let him stand toe-to-toe even with Roger or Whitebeard in their prime.
Add in the Float-Float Fruit's mobility… and Zephyr-sensei's safety, as well as that of the comrades following him, would be far less of a concern.
With that realization, the knot in Darren's chest loosened.
Then he caught himself and shook his head with a wry smile.
What happened to the dashing Marine Disgrace I used to be?
Now I'm actually worrying about people. Bonds, huh… what a pain.
He slowly exhaled a plume of smoke.
Just then, Darren halted.
"What brings you here?"
Up ahead, a tall figure stood on the shore, bathed in silver moonlight. Her long black hair was tied into a high ponytail that swayed gently in the sea breeze.
"I missed training during the day, so I'm here to make up for it now," Gion said, biting her lower lip as she slowly drew her golden Meito from the sheath at her waist.
Darren studied her for a moment, then suddenly chuckled. "I thought you'd stay mad and ignore me forever."
Under his teasing gaze, a faint blush spread across Gion's cheeks. She grit her teeth. "I'm not angry!"
"If you're not angry…"
His low voice brushed past her ear.
Before Gion could react, a hand with clearly defined knuckles had already slid around her waist.
Her eyes flew wide in shock.
"W-what are you doing?!" she stammered, flustered, the tips of her ears turning scarlet. "I-I came here to train with you!"
"Exactly, training."
"You… you bastard…"
"That's right, that's right…"
"Mmm..."
To be continued...