"Why is this happening?! What in the world is going on?! I demand an explanation, Sengoku!"
As Darren and Borsalino strolled leisurely down the corridor toward the Admiral's office, a furious voice thundered from within.
"…Of the original seventeen Shichibukai candidates, only five remain! The World Government is livid!"
Darren frowned slightly. He recognized most of the senior figures stationed at Marine Headquarters, but this voice was unfamiliar. Even the two guards posted outside Sengoku's office were trembling, trying to look invisible as they stood rigidly at attention.
"What's going on?" Darren asked quietly, glancing sideways at Borsalino.
Borsalino shrugged lazily, his drawl edged with amusement. "The Shichibukai list's classified at the highest level. Aside from the Gorosei's personal agents, only Fleet Admiral Kong and Admiral Sengoku have access to it."
He adjusted his sunglasses, his tone still mockingly casual. "But now, the candidates are being taken out one by one. The World Government suspects the killings are targeted—and they're convinced the list's been leaked."
Borsalino nodded toward the office door, his lips curling into a sly smile. "And so… CP came knocking."
Darren's brow arched. "So they think Sengoku himself leaked the list?"
"Who knows?" Borsalino replied with a chuckle, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. "But the Marines have never exactly been fans of the Shichibukai System, have they? Sengoku's one of only two people in our ranks with direct access. It's only natural they'd look his way first."
He paused, grinning faintly. "Poor Sengoku. Taking the fall for someone else's mess…"
He flicked Darren a knowing look, but Darren ignored it and pushed open the office door.
The two guards snapped to attention, saluting sharply. Darren waved them off as he and Borsalino stepped inside.
The first thing they saw was Sengoku, his face red with fury, slamming a fist down hard enough to rattle the desk.
"So you dare to doubt me?!" he bellowed, voice echoing like thunder. "After decades of service—rising from a private to an Admiral, after crushing countless pirates and carrying out the World Government's every damned order—you dare question my loyalty?!"
He was breathing hard, shoulders trembling with rage.
Then he noticed Darren and Borsalino entering.
"Ah… Darren, you're here." Sengoku's voice steadied with effort. "You've already been briefed, I assume?"
Darren gave a crisp salute. "Yes, Admiral. I understand the situation." His gaze slid past Sengoku, settling on the two figures standing opposite him.
Both wore loose white silk robes that gave off an almost sterile chill. Their faces were hidden behind ornate masks—one black with mandala engravings, the other a white fox mask crowned with golden curls of hair spilling from beneath the hood.
CP0.
The World Government's silent blade.
The male agent in the black mask radiated disdain, his very stance confrontational. The woman, by contrast, froze briefly when her eyes met Darren's.
Darren's smirk deepened ever so slightly. What a coincidence, he thought. An old friend in a new mask.
Sengoku's tone was clipped, restrained. "These two are CP0 agents sent by the World Government. Their orders are to investigate the murders of the Shichibukai candidates. Borsalino's filled you in on the details, I presume?"
"I'm up to speed," Darren replied smoothly. Then he turned to the masked pair, his tone sharpening like drawn steel. "But it seems our guests aren't satisfied with the Marine's cooperation?"
The female agent instinctively stepped back, the tension in Darren's voice triggering something primal. Her partner, however, stood his ground, chuckling coldly.
"So this is Vice Admiral Darren, the 'King of the North Blue,' the man who brought down Golden Lion Shiki." His tone dripped arrogance. "But what's with this bloodlust, boy?"
"I'm here under direct orders from the Gorosei. You'd better remember—"
He never finished.
The window exploded inward.
A black flash tore through the air like a thunderclap, slamming straight toward the CP0 agent.
"Darren, don't!" Sengoku roared, his face blanching.
Clang!
Boom!
A deafening shockwave ripped through the office, rattling every pane of glass. Papers and files burst into the air as if caught in a cyclone. The CP0 agent was hurled backward several meters, skidding to a stop only after crashing into the far wall.
The man's breath came in ragged gasps. Cold sweat trickled down his neck.
His hands—coated in glimmering black Armament Haki—trembled around the blade that had nearly split him in two. Sparks hissed from his palms where steel met steel.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
Borsalino reclined lazily on the sofa, legs crossed, smirking as though enjoying a private show.
"You lunatic!" the CP0 agent finally shouted, voice cracking behind his mask. "You dare attack me?!"
The disbelief in his tone was palpable. He knew—had he reacted a split second slower—he would be dead.
He looked down at the blade in his trembling grip and felt the chill of death crawl up his spine.
The Demon Blade, Enma.
Rumor said it had devoured the More-More Fruit itself, capable of amplifying the speed and force of its strikes exponentially. Under this Marine's command, it was a weapon of apocalypse.
Darren tilted his head slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Not bad. You managed to block Enma's tenfold-speed strike."
He exhaled softly, his tone calm—almost conversational. "Do you know its limit?"
The CP0 agent stiffened.
"Fiftyfold," Darren said. "Which means the swing you just blocked… was five times slower than what I can actually do."
The color drained from the agent's face. A creeping chill spread through his body, every instinct screaming danger as he realized the truth.
To be continued...