Darren wasn't the least bit surprised by Roger's escape. He'd expected it. Sengoku, on the other hand, still clung to hope—convinced Garp could take down the Pirate King himself.
Doesn't he realize Roger alone matches Garp blow for blow? Darren thought dryly. How could Garp possibly subdue the entire Roger Pirates? Does Sengoku think the Dark King Rayleigh and Gaban are just decoration? Or maybe he believes Bogard is secretly the World's Strongest Swordsman and can take both at once?
He sighed, drew a long breath, and asked, "What about that crazy old hag, Big Mom?"
"She's been getting worse," came the answer. "Her hunger fits are more frequent. And though she can fly, she's slow."
"With all the firepower we fielded, even if Roger slipped away, we should still be able to handle Big Mom, right?"
Truth be told, Darren feared Big Mom far more than Roger. That deranged woman's obsession with bearing his children haunted him. Her power lacked Roger's depth, but the unease she inspired was unmatched.
He'd long refused to set foot on Whole Cake Island to settle things. Charlotte Linlin still had her allure, and in any other woman, that might have been tempting. But whenever he pictured her, the image of that mountainous mass of flesh surfaced, sending a shiver through him. If the Miracle Island battle rid the world of her, all the better.
However…
As he spoke, the Den Den Mushi's mimicry of Sengoku's face turned bright red. The Admiral stammered, "Ah, Darren… that crazy old hag… she escaped too."
Silence.
Nearby, Crocodile and the others, who'd been shamelessly eavesdropping, twitched their lips.
"What about Kaido, then?" Darren growled, taking another breath to steady himself. "He's the weakest of the three. Once the fighting starts, he loses control and can't stop himself. If we just hold him off, Headquarters should be able to encircle and finish him, right?"
Nothing but dead air.
Sengoku's Den Den Mushi face turned a deeper shade of purple.
Darren said nothing. The Shichibukai rubbed their temples, black lines of exasperation practically visible over their heads.
Perfect. So he and Bullet had risked their lives stopping Whitebeard's crew, and the Marines hadn't managed to take down a single target on Miracle Island.
After all that preparation, the massive funding, the deployment of elite troops and fleets—what exactly had they achieved?
"Ahem… well, actually, if you look at the big picture, the final results were quite commendable," Sengoku managed, clearing his throat, his voice rising to a bureaucratic pitch. "According to early reports, over 3,000 members of the Big Mom and Beasts Pirates were eliminated, including more than 300 executives."
He forced a brittle smile. "A crushing blow to both crews! Their losses are severe—they won't be able to wage another large-scale war for at least five years!"
Darren rolled his eyes. A crushing blow? You only killed a few small fries. The real monsters are still alive.
Low- and mid-level grunts? The seas were full of them. With Kaido's and Big Mom's power and reputations, they could rebuild their forces within months.
He exhaled, letting the irritation go. The result was laughable, but not illogical. If Roger, Kaido, and Big Mom could be eliminated so easily, the Four Emperors' reign over the New World would never have come to pass.
"Alright, Admiral Sengoku," Darren said, steadying his tone. "If the battle's over, we'll skip the field and head back to Headquarters."
Sengoku seemed to hear the disappointment beneath the calm. A flicker of shame passed over his face. Darren, with just six unruly pirates, had intercepted Whitebeard's entire fleet without a hitch, while Headquarters' grand offensive had bagged only small prey—a humiliating contrast.
Worse, they'd wasted the window Darren had nearly died to open.
"Everything's fine," Sengoku said hastily, clearing his throat again. "Young Darren, your performance was exemplary. I'll report your deeds to the World Government personally and recommend you for a commendation!" He thumped his chest, trying to recover his dignity.
"My Admiral Candidate promotion hasn't gone through yet, has it?" Darren asked casually.
Sengoku's grin faltered. "Ah… it's still under review. Should be approved soon. Very soon." His voice shrank with each word.
"Good." Darren's reply was cool. "Then I'll wait for your good news, Admiral Sengoku."
He hung up without another word.
Admiral Candidate, Admiral—it made little difference. His standing in the Marines wasn't tied to a rank or title. With his power, influence, and fleets, there was little he couldn't do. The rank of Admiral was just decoration.
The only benefit was prestige. The downside: dealing with the Celestial Dragons and the endless red tape that came with it.
But that hardly bothered him. Protecting those pompous nobles was something Rogers Darren excelled at.
He grinned and turned toward the Shichibukai. "You all heard him, didn't you? Admiral Sengoku said the Marines did pretty well this time."
The six looked at each other in silence for a long moment.
Then—
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Laughter erupted, wild and mocking, echoing through the skies as the Metallic Ark cut across the clouds. The air aboard the ship pulsed with savage, unrestrained mirth.
To be continued...