That evening, in the Captain's residence of the 321st Branch...
Having completed his grueling training, Darren took a quick rinse in the steaming shower. Emerging with droplets glistening on his scar-riddled skin, he found himself staring into the mirror.
The reflection showed a body marked with countless scars, like a predator honed for battle. Each sinew radiated explosive power, giving him the appearance of a beast poised to strike. For a moment, he lost himself in thought.
Physique: 58.418
Strength: 53.890
Speed: 57.548
Fruit: 71.345
The final endurance training of the day had left his body bearing fresh wounds, most of which were already scabbing. By his estimation, they would completely heal with just one night's rest.
This accelerated recovery reflected in the metrics he could perceive; his physique had increased by an impressive 0.312, reaching 58.418—another step closer to the critical threshold of 60.
"Progress is slowing down," he muttered, furrowing his brow at the grotesque network of scars across his body.
He was reaching a bottleneck. With his ever-growing physical resilience, conventional weaponry, blades and bullets, was becoming increasingly ineffective.
"It looks like I'll need to haul a few heavy naval cannons to the training grounds soon," he concluded.
The scars covering his body were a testament to his brutal regimen, but he felt no pride, only determination. Every mark was a reminder of the harsh path he had chosen, a path necessary to stand against the true monsters of this world.
Earlier that day, as the chaotic "war training" raged on the training grounds, the two Marine elites, Gion and Kaji, stood frozen at the edge of the field, their faces pale.
Neither of them could fathom the scene before them:
A man standing in the midst of relentless attacks, swords cleaving, bullets raining, and even cannonballs detonating around him.
Darren didn't block, dodge, or even employ Iron Body (Tekkai).
Instead, he endured everything with sheer physical resilience, letting his unyielding body take the full brunt of the onslaught.
The harsh clang of shattered blades, the ear-splitting gunfire, and the deafening explosions formed a symphony of destruction. Smoke, fire, and debris filled the air, transforming the training grounds into a battlefield.
The spectacle was nothing short of terrifying.
"Is this even humanly possible...?" Kaji muttered, his voice trembling as his gaze locked onto Darren's unwavering figure amidst the chaos.
"No... no, it's not," Gion whispered, swallowing hard as she tried to process the sight of a man who, by all accounts, seemed indestructible.
For the two prodigies from Marine Headquarters, this was a shocking revelation. They had seen strength, but never something so utterly monstrous.
Darren's training wasn't just brutal—it was suicidal. And yet, he stood unbroken, his unshakable resolve a testament to the monstrous willpower that drove him forward.
…
The evening breeze carried a faint chill as Darren leaned back in his chair, sipping a glass of water while reviewing the day's progress in his mind.
Despite the pain, exhaustion, and countless wounds, his lips curled into a faint smile.
With each grueling session, he drew closer to his goal.
There was no room for complacency in this world of chaos. Only by surpassing his limits could he hope to stand against the true legends of the sea.
Darren's thoughts briefly wandered to the rumors he'd heard lately—whispers of Germa's resurgence.
"A storm is brewing," he murmured, his eyes narrowing.
But no matter what lay ahead, he knew one thing for certain:
He wouldn't be a mere pawn swept away by the tides. He would rise as a force to be reckoned with.
"That cunning old Sengoku sent Gion and Kaji here mostly to have me train them," Darren mused aloud.
"The third Officer Training Camp is about to start. While they've already been handpicked for it, they still need to put on a show, get some polish, rack up some achievements for their records."
He chuckled before continuing, "If the Headquarters were really planning to move against me, they wouldn't have sent those two greenhorns. Instead, I'd be facing the 'baptism' of Vice Admiral Tsuru."
There was a brief silence before Weasel spoke, his voice tinged with concern.
"I can't shake the feeling that you're walking a dangerous line, Darren. The Headquarters will likely dig something up soon."
Darren shook his head with a wry smile.
"The North Blue is too insignificant. Headquarters barely spares it a glance."
"Even if they do uncover something, so what?" He leaned back, his tone calm and unbothered. "If they want to investigate, let them. I'll show them the situation in the North Blue with absolute transparency."
After a pause, he shifted the topic. "By the way, I heard that Vinsmoke Judge has been causing quite a stir lately?"
Weasel nodded. "That's right. He's been flaunting his power, expanding his forces, and leading his army in campaigns across the region. He's even declared his intent to behead the kings of four nations, including the Kingdom of Yadis, in order to 'reclaim dominance over the North Blue.'"
Darren let out a cold laugh. "Looks like he's gotten his hands on some advanced weaponry and let it go to his head."
Vinsmoke Judge, as Darren knew, had once collaborated with the so-called "genius scientist 500 years ahead of his time," Vegapunk.
In the original story, after Vegapunk was taken by the World Government, Judge had fled back to the North Blue with a portion of Vegapunk's technology. He used this knowledge to rebuild Germa 66, eventually leading a campaign that culminated in the decapitation of four kings and marking the event with a massive mural.
"Send him a message," Darren instructed, his tone firm. "The North Blue isn't Germa 66's playground. Headquarters may only be doing a cursory check, but I won't allow Judge to throw the region into chaos under my watch."
Tapping his fingers lightly on the edge of the bathtub, he added, "The ruler of the North Blue isn't Germa 66."
Weasel nodded but hesitated, his expression conflicted.
"Something else on your mind?" Darren asked, raising an eyebrow.
After a moment of consideration, Weasel spoke cautiously.
"A new faction has recently appeared in the North Blue. They're strong, brutally so."
"They've already crushed several notable mafia families, including the Galen family, and taken over their operations."
Taking a deep breath, Weasel's face darkened. "I had people investigate their background. It's... not simple."
He exhaled deeply, his tone grim. "The leader of this group is a child, not even ten years old."
"His name is..." He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Donquixote Doflamingo."