On the deserted island, the white Birdcage had vanished. Warm sunlight spilled from a clear blue sky, and waves beat a steady rhythm against the rocks, bursting into white foam.
"Darren-san, I'll do my best to honor my promise," Fisher Tiger said evenly. His wounds were hastily bandaged as he faced the Marine Vice Admiral.
"Hm. I appreciate that, Mr. Tiger," Darren replied, voice cool. "I know it won't be easy. It breaks with the principles you used to hold."
Fisher Tiger shook his head, a wry, distant look in his eyes. "Principles… those died the moment I killed that Celestial Dragon."
"Do you regret it?" Darren asked, sudden and direct. "From today on, your days of freedom are over."
Tiger stiffened. Instinctively, he looked back toward the jungle depths, where the memory of his comrades' backs—defiant, laughing as they charged—burned bright. His lips thinned; his fists closed.
"No," he said. "Someone will pay for their deaths."
He turned to the far horizon, gaze full of longing. "Besides… there are more meaningful things waiting for me, aren't there?"
Doflamingo frowned, realization flickering. If he remembered right, Fisher Tiger was staring toward the Red Line. Could he be…?
Darren nodded, then shook his head. "You'll reach it someday, but not now. Impulse won't get you there. You need more strength." He held out his hand with a faint smile. "Fair winds."
Tiger clasped it, a small smile returning. "Thank you, Darren-san."
"I don't know what you truly want, or what you're planning, but if not for you, I'd already be dead." His expression hardened. "Thank you… for giving me the chance to kill him."
He stepped back, bowed deeply, and dove.
The crimson figure knifed into the sea and raced away like a creature returning home. In a heartbeat, he vanished beneath the waves.
"What a convenient ability," Darren murmured, extending his Observation Haki and tracking Tiger's swiftly fading presence.
The Fish-Man race were blessed by the sea; their blood gave them a mastery of the water men could barely imagine. A fighter like Fisher Tiger could more than double his land power in the ocean. From this day, it was a dragon entering the deep. Short of cornering him on land, who could kill him now? Even Darren admitted—if Tiger chose to live under the waves, not even the full might of the North Blue Flying Fleet would touch him.
"So, Godfather," Doflamingo said at last, breaking his silence. "How do we clean up this mess?"
"You went to such lengths," he added, eyes narrowing. "You even killed a Celestial Dragon… Was it really worth it?"
Darren's eyes slitted toward him, and his tone went glacial. "Are you questioning my judgment, Doffy?"
The words struck like a blade. Doflamingo's pupils pinpricked; his breath seized as if an invisible hand crushed his throat.
Crimson-black lightning crackled around Darren, coiling and knotting. The pressure warped the air, the world blurring at the edges.
Conqueror's Haki strong enough to twist reality.
Terror tore through Doflamingo. Under that unbridled will, it felt like a hundred knives hovered at his vitals; cold sweat burst from every pore. Even his own Conqueror's Haki curled in on itself, too frightened to stir.
How long has it even been?
He'd believed the grinding fights of the New World and unbroken training had brought him close—close enough to at least stand before Darren. He hadn't imagined this.
The pressure shattered his pride, grinding his confidence to dust.
"I… I can't," he forced out, face bloodless as he fought to breathe.
Darren studied him for a heartbeat, then smiled.
"Good."
The weight vanished as suddenly as it had come. The world steadied; the terror felt like a bad dream.
Doflamingo sucked air, staring at Darren as if at a demon god.
"Did you send the message?" Darren asked, lighting another cigar.
Doflamingo swallowed and bowed his head. "Yes, but… anyone can see it's fake."
"That doesn't matter," Darren said, smiling. "Someone will believe it."
Doflamingo doubted, but didn't show it. Who would buy this? A rundown island hiding a Poneglyph—anyone with sense would see through it.
Darren chuckled. "Look. Someone's already here."
Doflamingo stilled. A flicker of red tinged his vision as his senses stretched; his face blanched.
"That presence… could it be…?"
Cold crept through him. He turned, disbelieving.
On the far horizon, a great pirate ship carved the sea at terrifying speed. A flowing golden beard marked the figurehead; the Jolly Roger snapped in the wind—a skull crowned with a straw hat atop the mast.
Doflamingo's heart slammed against his ribs; every muscle drew taut. A crushing, sovereign aura rolled off the ship, churning a storm inside him.
"The Roger Pirates?!"
His fingers twisted, threads whispering into the clouds—ready to flee.
But then—
BOOM.
A vast, all-encompassing force erupted from the shore—like a divine edict, or a surge from hell. The sky dimmed, the ground quaked, the sea heaved.
Doflamingo spun, horror widening his eyes. Darren's gaze burned with the hunger of battle. The thought that struck him felt impossible.
He… he actually means to fight the Roger Pirates?!
To be continued...