"The rumors were true!"
"So it wasn't just gossip!"
"Brutal…"
"One, two, three, four… Vice Admiral Darren severed the arms of four of the six Shichibukai!"
"No wonder their faces are so dark…"
…
The reporters' whispers were anything but quiet.
Among the "severed arm club," Crocodile, Moria, and Bullet looked murderous. Only young Mihawk remained impassive, as if it had nothing to do with him.
"Vice Admiral Darren," said a woman with wavy red hair in a black skirt suit, hand raised, "how would you rank the strength of these six Shichibukai?"
Darren glanced her way.
"I'm Scarlett, staff reporter with the Field News Agency," she added with a professional smile.
At the question, every Shichibukai straightened, lazy poses vanishing as they fixed him with hard stares.
"Rank their strength, huh?"
Catching those looks, Darren suddenly grinned.
"Each possesses unique and formidable abilities," he said, flicking a hand and even winking at the reporter. "Ranking them isn't simple. Fights hinge on more than raw power—environment, weather, state of mind, will. Any of it can tip the scales."
"And reporters," he added, "save the hard questions for the Shichibukai. They're today's main act, not me."
Scarlett nodded and turned toward the table, finally settling on Moria. "Mr. Moria, as the Shichibukai with the lowest current bounty, what are your thoughts?"
Anticipation crackled. Every eye fixed on Gecko Moria. Under the weight of that scrutiny, his sickly pallor flushed a deep red.
"That's the Marines' misjudgment!" he roared, leaping up as the shadows behind him writhed. "Besides, bounties don't measure real strength!"
"Is that so?" five voices asked at once, every one edged with skepticism. The others lifted their heads, amusement and mockery cold in their eyes.
Moria froze.
Darren's voice slid in, equal parts amused and sharp. "So, Moria, you're questioning Marine judgment?"
Color surged up, then drained from Moria's face. Words tangled on his tongue.
"Tch! I'm not arguing with you bastards," he snarled at last, grinding his teeth as he flopped back into his chair.
Another hand shot up. "Mr. Mihawk, a question?"
Mihawk turned, serene. "Go ahead."
The reporter exhaled in relief. "You're the youngest of the Shichibukai, yet your bounty was the second highest at 369 million berries. With such strength, why accept the title? From what we know, you're not interested in fame or power."
"To pursue greater heights in swordsmanship," Mihawk answered without a beat, eyes alight with unwavering conviction. "I witnessed Vice Admiral Darren's revolutionary swordsmanship with my own eyes. In fact…"
He touched the stump of his arm and smiled—daring and bright. "This arm… it's my gamble on the dawn of a new era in swordsmanship!"
Revolutionary swordsmanship?
The press corps blinked, baffled.
Vice Admiral Darren… a hidden Great Swordsman?
Electricity ran through the benches. Fingers hammered keys, pens flew across paper. "Big story! Big story!"
Up in the gallery, officers who knew better—Gion, Tokikake, Yamakaji—struggled to keep the corners of their mouths and the veins in their foreheads from jumping.
"Ahem. Next," Darren said, a hint of chagrin in his tone.
"I have a question for Mr. Fisher Tiger!" A journalist turned to the crimson-skinned Fish-Man. "As a Fish-Man joining the Shichibukai, do you have specific goals?"
Fisher Tiger paused, then said solemnly, "I hope to use the authority of the Shichibukai to shield the Fish-Man race from human poachers."
"In fact, Fish-Man Island is about to begin comprehensive cooperation with the human world. We sincerely hope our peoples can forge a great friendship."
"Thank you, Tiger-san," the reporter said with a smile.
A hand shot up at once. "Mr. Doflamingo—question for you."
"Records show you hail from the North Blue, where you fought a fierce battle against Vice Admiral Darren, then the Supreme Commander of the North Blue. Do you still bear resentment?"
"Resentment?" Doflamingo glanced at Darren, a sinister grin stretching his face. "It takes everything I have not to tear him apart right here. What do you think? Heh heh heh heh heh…"
Murderous intent rolled off him, and the reporter flinched.
"I—I understand," he stammered.
Darren laughed. "All right, last question." He pointed at an unfamiliar face.
"Thank you, Vice Admiral Darren," the man blurted, eager. "For the final question, Douglas Bullet."
"Mr. Bullet, you held the highest original bounty—greater than the other five combined. What are your thoughts?"
Bullet, all brute strength and feral heat, bared his teeth. "Isn't it obvious?"
"My bounty's the highest because I'm the strongest."
"As for those pathetic fools who couldn't even crack a billion— they don't deserve to sit at my table, much less be my equals."
"What did you say?!" Moria roared, face going crimson with fury.
The others' expressions darkened.
"No, I'm not singling you out," Bullet sneered at Moria, the air around him thick with killing intent as crimson-black lightning crackled.
He flicked a glance up at Darren on the dais, then let his bloodshot stare sweep the Shichibukai. Golden hair whipped; his eyes burned like a demon's.
"I mean… every single one of you here… is trash!"
To be continued...