Night lay heavy over the base.
Propped against the headboard, Darren thumbed through an intelligence brief, moonlight skimming the pages. The latest reports put the Roger Pirates rampaging through Totto Land in the New World. Big Mom had left Whole Cake Island to intercept them. A clash of titans was imminent.
That old codger Garp… has he gone soft on Roger after all these years? It feels like he's been pulling his punches.
A sigh tugged at him as he read.
Back on Fish-Man Island, he'd done everything possible to cripple the Roger Pirates' mobility. Enma's strikes had shaved at least a third off the Oro Jackson's speed. By rights, with Garp's legendary cannonball-throwing, even if he couldn't finish them, he shouldn't have let them run wild.
As for Big Mom… Darren didn't pin much hope on that madwoman.
In this era her strength was near its peak, and her food cravings hadn't yet curdled into full-blown insanity—but even so, she was likely a hair below Roger, the strongest pirate of their time.
Barring a miracle, the Road Poneglyph in her hands would end up with Roger, same as in the original tale.
Unless—
"Husband…"
The soft murmur cut through his thoughts.
He looked down at Toki, sleeping at his side.
Moonlight spilled over her face, fine silver specks catching on the unadorned lines of her cheeks, lending her a quiet, otherworldly grace. Her lips trembled; her fingers tightened around his, her body curling slightly as if chased by a dream. Her lashes fluttered.
Darren's gaze gentled. He smoothed a hand through her hair, soothing her like a frightened kitten.
Feeling his warmth, she relaxed, her breathing steadying.
"Oh well," he muttered with a wry smile. "What's it to me if Roger becomes Pirate King?"
Even if he joined the fray now, it would scarcely matter. His wounds weren't fully healed; he'd be dead weight.
Still not strong enough…
While calming Toki, he turned inward, letting his Perception Talent trace every inch of his body.
The battle on Fish-Man Island had finally pushed his Conqueror's Haki past the eighty-point mark—powerful enough to exert force on the world around him.
And beyond Conqueror's Haki, every other attribute had nudged up about a point—an unexpected boon.
Physique: 92.117 (Indestructible Body)
Strength: 83.951 (Giant's Strength)
Speed: 84.668 (Soru's Divine Speed)
Devil Fruit: 86.186 (Island-Covering)
Armament Haki: 73.765 (Internal Destruction, Demon Form)
Observation Haki: 76.521 (Magnetic Field Sensing)
Conqueror's Haki: 81.469 (Affecting Reality)
"Everything else can still grow," he murmured, brow knitting. "Until I break ninety, Kaido's 'training' should help. But this Physique…"
Through endless battles the rest had inched forward, however slowly. His Physique, though, was barely crawling.
He was starting to suspect he'd hit the ceiling of human genes.
He wasn't born like Big Mom with that Iron Balloon body, nor like Kaido with Oni blood, nor like King of the Lunarians.
For a mere human to hammer out an Indestructible Body through years of life-and-death trials and systematic training was already a miracle.
Even more "lessons" from Kaido might no longer budge the needle.
He'd reached the lock carved into the human genome.
Breaking it would be another matter. As far as Darren knew, even Vegapunk didn't have a clean method.
Lineage Factor work might offer a path—but he had no desire to be a lab rat, much less to twist himself into something inhuman. Unacceptable.
"I'll figure it out later," he said, shaking off the thought. "At least the other attributes still have room."
Making sure Toki slept soundly, he slipped from the bed, swung on a cloak, and padded out to the courtyard for a smoke.
Being too strong wasn't always a gift. Back in the North Blue, a single day of training could leave him dead on his feet. Now he could go eight or ten days without sleep and feel nothing at all.
Since leaving the North Blue he'd wandered for years. Only now did he stumble into a stretch of quiet—and, perversely, he found it unfamiliar.
This is so boring…
He lifted his head, catching movement at the gate: a furtive silhouette peeking into the yard. His lip twitched; he strode over.
"What are you doing here?"
Tokikake grinned, abashed. "Heard you were back. Thought I'd swing by for a… midnight snack."
Darren narrowed his eyes, amused despite himself. "You've got one more chance. Try again."
Tokikake flinched, ducked his head, and put on a fawning tone. "Heh… Could you—teach me how to train my physique?"
Physique? Darren's eyes flicked over the scrawny arms and legs. "You're decent at martial arts already. And shouldn't you be asking Zephyr-sensei at the Training Camp?"
"N-no, not martial arts," Tokikake stammered. He shifted from foot to foot. "I want to learn… pure physique."
Pure physique?
This kid… don't tell me—
Darren frowned.
Tokikake edged closer, a knowing smirk creeping in. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I want to… get harder."
Darren: ...
To be continued...