Stussy studied the unfamiliar list, a faint crease forming between her brows.
She slipped into a silk robe, its lace-trimmed edges clinging to her pale skin, and began scrutinizing the document with quiet intensity.
That damn Marine Vice Admiral… he's no ordinary man.
Beyond the monstrous physique and dangerous charm, what unsettled Stussy most was his sheer self-assurance—the calm, deliberate certainty in every movement, every word.
That unwavering composure lent him a charisma far more intoxicating than strength alone.
She had seen such absolute confidence only in the Gorosei. But for them, arrogance was a divine right.
What was Darren's excuse? Where did his confidence come from?
"That's none of your concern, Your Majesty," Darren said smoothly, a smirk curling his lips as he exhaled a thin trail of smoke. "Our relationship hasn't reached the level where we share secrets, has it?"
Stussy: …
That bastard!
Her teeth sank into her crimson lip as she rose from the bed. Bare feet touched the polished floor with a soft sound as she approached him—every step a deliberate display of poise and temptation.
The faint glimmer of her scarlet-painted toes, the long curve of her legs beneath the thin silk, the artful sway of fabric revealing just enough—it was a dance of suggestion, weaponized grace.
Darren arched an eyebrow, intrigued.
"So, Vice Admiral Darren," she murmured, voice like liquid honey, "won't you share your secret with me?"
She settled onto his lap like a cat curling into its chosen perch, her arms winding around his neck, her breath warm against his ear. "I'm simply dying to know…"
The Queen of the Pleasure District, feared and desired across the world, now swayed barefoot in his arms—an image Tokikake himself could never have dared dream.
"I'm afraid that's classified Marine information," Darren replied, his expression hardening just slightly.
Then his tone shifted, amusement flickering behind his eyes. "Unfortunately, I'm a battle-hardened Marine executive. My mouth doesn't slip easily."
Stussy blinked, momentarily stunned.
Her brow twitched. Her chest rose sharply.
A battle-hardened Marine executive? You? she thought acidly. You drink, gamble, smoke, and chase women—what kind of discipline is that supposed to be?!
But Darren merely smiled, enjoying the way frustration colored her expression.
"Still," he continued lazily, "since you're so curious, perhaps I can tell you why—after you help me with that list."
His grin turned shameless. "Background checks. Full reports. You know the drill."
Stussy's eyes rolled skyward.
She slid gracefully off his lap, snatched up the Den Den Mushi from the nightstand, and dialed. Her voice was suddenly crisp, all trace of seduction gone.
"Bring me everything you have on the names I'm about to list. I want it within three minutes."
Gone was the temptress. What remained was the cold, commanding queen of the underworld—decisive, efficient, utterly in control.
Darren leaned back, watching her with quiet approval. She wasn't the type of woman who relied solely on beauty; her authority was carved from skill and willpower.
Less than two minutes later, a polite knock came at the door.
Stussy crossed the room, opened it, and accepted a file from a young assistant in a fitted skirt suit. The woman bowed deeply before hurrying away.
"Don't worry about exposure," Stussy said over her shoulder as she closed the door. "My subordinates are loyal only to me. I trained them myself."
Darren's lips curved faintly. "I didn't ask."
Her gaze sharpened. "I've modified their memories using my Devil Fruit ability. Even under torture, they wouldn't remember who I am."
Darren exhaled a thin plume of smoke, impressed despite himself. "That's quite the power you've got."
Ignoring him, Stussy sat across from him, legs crossed, flipping through the file. Her voice carried through the candlelit room as she read.
"Dracule Mihawk—male, seventeen. Origin unknown, strength unknown. Noted for his hawk-like eyes and remarkable swordsmanship. Sighted multiple times in the first half of the Grand Line. Operates alone."
"Fisher Tiger—male, Fish-Man, approximately twenty-five. Born in Ryugu Castle, Fish-Man Island. Adventurer. Strength unknown. Last seen in East Blue."
"Gekko Moria—male, twenty-three. Suspected Paramecia-type Shadow-Shadow Fruit user. From West Blue. Recently entered the Grand Line. Ambitious, resourceful, dangerous."
"Boa Hancock—female, three years old. Unofficial member of the Kuja Pirates. Citizen of Amazon Lily."
Her voice trailed off.
Slowly, Stussy lifted her gaze, eyes narrowing with something between amusement and disbelief.
"What's that look for?" Darren asked, fighting a smile.
Stussy let out a low, teasing laugh. "The first three, I can understand. Promising candidates. Strong potential. But this last one…" She tilted her head, her lips curving wickedly. "Boa Hancock? Three years old?"
She paused for effect. "I never realized you had such unique preferences, Vice Admiral."
Darren nearly choked on his cigar smoke. "Don't be ridiculous! I'm not some kind of pervert!"
"You wanted to know why I asked you for this intel, didn't you?" he said once he'd recovered. "Fine—I'll tell you."
"These four… they're my choices for the next generation of Shichibukai."
Stussy froze. Her teasing smile vanished as her pupils contracted in shock.
She stared at him, speechless, her heartbeat quickening with disbelief.
This man… he's planning to interfere with the Shichibukai selection itself?!
To be continued...