In the shadowed corner of the Chamber Deliberation, the outline of a wide, plush leather sofa lay shrouded in gloom. As the Gorosei's gazes slowly shifted in that direction, the suffocating pressure in the air seemed to ease—if only by a fraction.
By flickering candlelight, a slender figure gradually emerged. Crimson hair, shaped like a crescent moon, framed a handsome face with sharp, intelligent eyes. Clad in a modified noble-style Knights of God uniform with a rapier at his hip, he lounged back on the sofa with one leg casually crossed over the other. The flames cast shifting bands of light and shadow across his chiseled features.
This was Saint Figarland Garling, Vice Commander of the Knights of God—a Celestial Dragon who had previously tested Darren's mettle in Mary Geoise. Rumor tied him inextricably to the future Four Emperors' "Red-Hair" Shanks.
"I deeply regret such a disastrous event," Saint Figarland Garling said, shaking his head with a soft sigh.
"Commander Saint Michael has always been exceptionally kind to me. Over the years, he often guided my swordsmanship. I've always been grateful for his mentorship and have regarded him as a lifelong role model and idol."
He exhaled slowly, eyes darkening.
"I just never imagined… that a man as powerful as he was would fall to that brat, Darren."
Saint Saturn frowned. "Rogers Darren is becoming increasingly uncontrollable."
Saint Nusjuro, head bowed as he methodically polished his black demon blade, rasped, "His growth rate is terrifying. It's as if he never needs to stop and breathe."
Saint Mars spoke coldly. "We've essentially reached our conclusion. Rogers Darren possesses an unparalleled learning ability."
"His talent lies in how quickly he absorbs his opponents' techniques and insights mid-battle, then converts that experience into his own combat power at a frightening pace."
Saint Warcury gestured toward the mountain of documents piled on a nearby desk and sneered.
"These are all his files—from his rise in the North Blue to the present. This brat has fought over a thousand battles, big and small. Byrnndi World, Golden Lion Shiki, Kaido, Whitebeard, Roger, Rayleigh, Big Mom, Charlotte Katakuri, Douglas Bullet, 'Wildfire' King, 'Plague Queen' Queen… he's challenged practically every major powerhouse of both the old and new eras."
"And that's just on the pirate side."
"On the Marine side, he was personally trained by the two Marine legends, Garp and Zephyr. Even Kong and Sengoku instructed him to some extent, with the latter crossing fists with him multiple times… As for the Marine monsters of his own generation—the peers he calls 'friends'—he's traded blows with every last one of them."
As Warcury spoke, he lifted a hand. A Visual Den Den Mushi clicked to life, projecting its recording in mid-air.
The image showed Headquarters' parade ground in chaos—Darren locked in a brutal clash with Sakazuki, Borsalino, and Kuzan, the future "Three Admirals."
"Golden Lion's ruthless, all-or-nothing style…"
"Garp's ferocious fist techniques…"
"Kaido's overwhelming, inhuman physique…"
"Big Mom's monstrous, superhuman strength…"
"Zephyr's Black Arm-level Haki…"
"Dragon's overwhelming Dragon Claw…"
"…and Roger's decisive boldness and sweeping grandeur."
Scenes flickered past the Gorosei's eyes one after another, their expressions growing darker and more cautious.
"It's obvious," Figarland Garling said with a thin sneer. "Rogers Darren has taken the strengths of all these monsters and fused them through his own talent into the 'creature' we face today."
"But what you need to consider now goes far beyond these examples," he continued.
"Kaido's lightning-charged 'vivification'? Big Mom's super-giant brute strength? Roger's 'Divine Departure'? If Darren truly killed Commander Michael, it's highly likely he has mastered at least one such signature power."
"Remember—aside from that madwoman Big Mom, the brat has clashed again and again with the other two."
His eyes glinted with a sinister curiosity.
"Of course, we can't rule out the possibility that he's grasped an entirely different power… one that belongs to him alone."
At that, the Gorosei's expressions shifted almost imperceptibly.
If Darren had copied one of those three exclusive powers—Kaido's Azure Dragon techniques, Big Mom's Soul-Soul Fruit, or Roger's supreme Conqueror's Haki—it would be troublesome, but not unmanageable.
After all, Kaido, Big Mom, and Roger had long since made their names. To these elders, who had lived for centuries, it didn't matter whether they themselves could replicate those abilities. What mattered was that they already understood those powers inside and out, their structures dissected and countermeasures refined long ago.
But if that brat Darren had awakened something unique to himself…
Then the situation became far more dangerous.
At the very least, they would lose their greatest advantage—information.
"Are you suggesting… Devil Fruit Awakening?" Saint Saturn narrowed his eyes, glaring at Figarland Garling with open disdain.
"Rogers Darren is a Magnet-Magnet Fruit user—a Paramecia. Even if he awakens, at best he can influence the environment within a limited radius."
"Perhaps he can grant magnetic properties to surrounding objects… or assign 'N' and 'S' poles to two different targets?"
"These paltry tricks… what of them?"
As the World Government's "Scientific Warrior God," Saint Saturn oversaw all internal research divisions and was a brilliant scientist in his own right.
He easily inferred the most "reasonable" paths for the Magnet-Magnet Fruit's Awakening.
In fact, the Government's confidential records already detailed previous Magnet-Magnet users—including a few who had reached Awakening.
Without exception, their new abilities after Awakening matched Saturn's expectations almost perfectly.
"If that brat's Fruit were Zoan-type, then his Awakening would indeed be a serious concern."
"But Paramecia…?"
Saturn shook his head, eyes full of contempt.
"Perhaps," Figarland Garling murmured, almost to himself.
He turned away and looked out the window.
From this vantage point in Pangaea Castle, suspended amidst a sea of clouds, the entirety of the Holy Land Mary Geoise spread beneath him.
The skeletal frames of new buildings already rose across the scarred landscape. Reconstruction raced ahead at a frenzied pace, as if this city—symbol of the world's ultimate power and privilege—were being reborn from ruin.
And yet, for some reason, a faint unease tugged at the edges of Figarland Garling's heart.
Could the Magnet-Magnet Fruit truly have only this one path of development?
To be continued...