Darren was genuinely surprised when he saw the list.
He knew that, in the original course of history, most of the Marines' brightest prospects had already graduated from the Elite Officer Training Camp. The first and second classes from the Headquarters' camp were particularly legendary—those cohorts had produced the "Monsters" of the era: the future Three Admirals, Monkey D. Dragon before he turned revolutionary, and several elite officers who had built the foundation of what people later called the "Golden Generation."
So when Zephyr had asked him to serve as a special instructor, Darren had assumed he'd be dealing with a batch of second-rate recruits—more discipline cases than prodigies.
He was wrong.
The moment he scanned the names, recognition flickered through him like a spark. These weren't nobodies. These were rough stones waiting to be cut and polished. For the first time in a while, Darren found himself looking forward to a new challenge.
T-Bone.
The "Ship-Slicing Swordsman" who, years later, would appear escorting Nico Robin before the Enies Lobby incident and clash briefly with Zoro. He'd been defeated, yes—but the man's faith in justice and selfless loyalty to his subordinates had been unforgettable.
After the Summit War, his power had grown rapidly. In just two years, he'd risen to the rank of Vice Admiral, entrusted with guarding the World Conference itself.
And in the end, he'd been killed—cut down by commoners desperate for the bounty that Cross Guild had placed on Marine heads.
Shuzo.
In the stories Darren remembered, he had been one of Zephyr's most devoted students—a hard-boiled Marine through and through. Even after Zephyr left the Marines, Shuzo had stayed at his side, helping him form the NEO Marines and serving as his right hand. His mastery of Armament Haki and the Six Powers made him a formidable fighter.
Vergo.
Darren's lips twitched. He knew that name far too well. A man who would one day betray the Marines from within—his own godson's spy. For two decades, Vergo had hidden behind the mask of loyalty, climbing to the rank of Vice Admiral and taking command of the G-5 Branch in the New World.
Doll.
The name stirred faint memory. Darren could only recall that she would one day rise to Vice Admiral and command the G-14 Branch.
And then—
Magellan.
That name stopped him cold.
The future Warden of Impel Down, known as the "Iron Wall." The man who once single-handedly wiped out three Emperors within the prison walls.
The user of the Paramecia-type Venom-Venom Fruit—his poisons could burn through stone, paralyze nerves, and induce madness. In the narrow, suffocating corridors of Impel Down, his power was absolute. Against him, even top-tier pirates had no chance.
To anyone else, he was a nightmare. But Darren knew the man's soul: loyal, unbending, and fiercely proud. Magellan was the kind who would rather die than compromise. Once he acknowledged someone as his superior, his faith would never waver.
This roster might not rival the brilliance of the first and second generations, but make no mistake—it was filled with monsters in the making.
"So, Young Darren… any of them catch your eye?"
Zephyr's tone was half teasing, half expectant. Watching Darren's absorbed expression brought a faint smile to the old man's weathered face. This—seeing potential, shaping it, watching it bloom—was what kept Zephyr teaching long after the battlefield had called him home.
How far would these young talents go? What kind of legends would they write?
Darren folded the list, smiling. "Too early to say, Zephyr-sensei. But I'll do my best."
Zephyr chuckled, patting his shoulder. "Don't push yourself too hard. The entrance ceremony's in ten days—drop by, meet the recruits, give them a little inspiration. And…"
He hesitated, mouth twitching as he recalled a certain memory. "…try not to go overboard this time."
He still remembered Darren's so-called "graduation speech." The memory alone gave him a headache.
---
Zephyr left soon after, returning to the Academy where mountains of paperwork and restless recruits awaited him.
Darren lingered in the courtyard, finishing his cigar in silence. He was just about to head inside to check on Toki when a familiar, lazy voice drifted from behind him.
"You sure know how to take it easy, Vice Admiral Darren."
Darren turned with a chuckle to see Borsalino leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, the picture of nonchalance.
"I'm on official leave, Vice Admiral Borsalino," Darren said.
After the Buster Call against Douglas Bullet, Sengoku had granted him a full month's rest—partly to compensate for the past few months of relentless missions, and partly so he could spend more time with Toki.
Borsalino sighed, his voice dripping with mock envy. "Lucky you. But I'm afraid your little vacation just got cut short."
Darren's brow lifted slightly. "Oh? What happened now?"
Borsalino's expression turned oddly thoughtful. "The Shichibukai candidate list. It's been leaked. Not that it matters much… except someone's been hunting them down."
"Hunting them down?" Darren asked, his tone deceptively calm.
"Mm." Borsalino nodded. "Over the past two weeks, every candidate on the list has been taken out one after another. No survivors, no witnesses. The ones still alive can be counted on one hand."
"The government's losing its mind. They've ordered Marine Headquarters to investigate and capture whoever's behind it immediately. Sengoku's been raging like a storm."
He tilted his head slightly, his golden shades catching the light. "Sakazuki's already been dispatched, but the higher-ups want more manpower. Sengoku's calling you in. Probably wants to assign you to the case."
A slow, knowing smile curved Borsalino's lips. "But tell me, Darren… you wouldn't happen to know who's behind it, would you?"
Darren raised both hands in feigned innocence, eyes wide. "Me? I haven't even left Headquarters these past two weeks. How would I know?"
Borsalino's grin widened. "True enough."
Their eyes met.
And in the next moment, both men burst out laughing.
To be continued...