"Darren… we have already offered you the utmost sincerity."
Under Dragon's tight-lipped stare, the Gorosei pressed their final terms, their eyes bearing down on the Vice Admiral like a verdict.
"Everything that happened on Felsek Island will never be known to the world… if we so choose.
"Your crimes can be erased as if they never happened… if we so choose.
"You can have everything you've pursued, everything you've craved… if we so choose.
"Power, fame, status, glory, wealth—bestowed upon you, raising you above countless millions—"
"…if you so choose?" Darren finished for them, lifting his head.
The five elders inclined their chins, smiles edged with condescension.
"Precisely."
A ripple of unease went through Dragon and the others.
"Hey—Darren!" Dragon snapped, face flushing. "You can't be seriously considering this! After the number of Celestial Dragons you've killed, there's no way they let you walk!"
Darren didn't spare him a glance. He studied the elders' calm, confident eyes and chuckled.
"So in the end, it all hinges on your 'permission and willingness,' doesn't it?"
His voice carried resignation, a flick of self-mockery, and the thinnest sigh.
"What of it?" Topman Warcury replied, flat as a blade's back. "The World Government has ruled eight centuries. We exercise absolute authority over these seas. Anyone who lives on them does so by our permission and willingness."
He spoke as if stating a law of nature.
"That," Darren said, shaking his head, "is exactly what pisses me off."
Five brows creased.
"You've made a basic mistake." He relit his cigar, a detached smile cutting across the blood on his face. "Remember this, you old men: whatever power I wield today was not a gift from the Celestial Dragons or the World Government's charity.
"It's mine. And none of you will take it from me."
Light screamed in from the horizon—four killing beams too fast to track. They tore the air and arrived before sight could catch up.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Metal shrieked and sparks washed the demon-shapes of the elders in a hard rain of light.
The Fengxi's iron fangs locked against Enma's hungry edge.
Itsumade's hooked talons caught Ame no Habakiri and held.
The skeletal warhorse's demon blade, Bakotsu, rang against Oto's petal-etched steel.
The Sandworm's gnashing jaws clamped down on Kogarashi, the withered tree of winter.
The elders' expressions darkened in unison.
"So," one said softly, "that's your answer."
"We didn't expect you to cling to such foolishness."
"You've made your choice."
"If you're so eager to die…"
"…then we'll show you the true power of the World Government."
"Despair," Saturn finished, "beyond anything you've imagined."
Half man, half beast, he drew a military Den Den Mushi from his coat and dialed a coded signal. The snail connected at once.
Saturn stared down at Darren and, with deliberate scorn, gave his order: "Eliminate those two vermin."
Silence.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Saturn's voice iced over. "Did you hear my order?!"
A hoarse, unplaceable voice crackled from the line. "Regret to inform you, Excellency… all your subordinates are dead."
Saturn's pupils pinched. Across from him, Darren's calm, amused smile barely moved. Veins threaded through Saturn's eyes.
"Who are you?!" he snarled.
Only a laugh answered—cold and mocking.
Click.
The line went dead.
---
Grand Line, a secret Cipher Pol facility.
Where walls once loomed thick and white, only jagged scars remained. Black-suited bodies lay scattered and torn. Overhead, a great white Birdcage contracted…and vanished.
Heels splashed through blood and muck. A pink feathered coat trailed crimson.
"Heh… heh heh," the golden-haired young Celestial Dragon chuckled, then burst into raucous laughter until tears bled from behind his dark lenses. "Those stubborn old fossils… they have no idea what tricks that man still has."
Senor Pink quietly guided a blind father and daughter behind Doflamingo.
The wireframe snail shattered in Doflamingo's hand. He threw his head back and laughed.
"I'm getting excited. Imagine their faces when they find out about Darren's trump card. Priceless!"
His laughter faded to a smile edged like wire. "Still… Senor Pink—why does he want me in the dark?"
Pink bowed. "Because the World Government's true strength remains unknown, Young Master. He believes it isn't time for a decisive battle. He needs you in the shadows."
"Tch. How boring." Doflamingo waved him on. Pink nodded and led the pair toward the harbor, where a Donquixote Family ship waited.
For a long moment, Doflamingo stood alone amid the reek of blood and powder. At last he exhaled a slow, dark breath.
"Fine," he murmured. "Then let's collect a little interest."
He snapped his fingers.
Far off, the armory went up in a single, thunderous bloom. Fire swallowed stone and steel, erasing everything it touched.
A heartbeat later, the flamingo in blood and feathers cut into the sky, a killing wind in his wake, and aimed for the next mark.
That day, ten secret World Government CP strongholds along the Grand Line were struck by an unknown assailant. Not a single distress call got out. Every site was wiped clean.
Amid the wreckage lay a rain of cross-marked banners. More than eight hundred Cipher Pol operatives of every rank died where they stood, their bodies mangled beyond recognition.
To be continued...