"These two guys... their aura is terrifying..."
Tokikake shuddered as he watched Dragon and Sakazuki face off, the air between them crackling violently.
"Dragon, your foolish compassion is dragging you down,"
Sakazuki sneered, his right arm already molten, transforming into bubbling magma that sizzled and burned dark holes into the floor.
"Justice built on sacrificing the lives of comrades—
is no justice at all!"
Dragon growled, furious, swirling a cyclone of wind in his palms.
"Sakazuki, you were wrong from the very beginning!"
Scarlet and emerald-colored auras clashed fiercely, splitting cracks across the floor and walls of the hospital room.
came a dry, exasperated voice.
"...could you both show a little consideration for the injured patient here?"
Darren, lying in bed, felt a dull ache beginning to pound at his temples.
No sooner had he spoken than a lazy, infuriatingly casual voice sounded from outside the room.
"Seems pretty lively in here..."
Everyone turned toward the door.
Polishing the doorframe with his shoulder, hands casually stuffed into his pockets, stood the tall figure of Borsalino —
his mouth curled into a faint, mocking smile.
"Rear Admiral Borsalino!"
Gion and Tokikake immediately saluted.
Borsalino didn't even glance at them — he simply strolled into the room, sunglasses gleaming.
Lifting his head slightly, he peered over his shades at Dragon and Sakazuki, his expression dripping with amusement.
"Your faces look terrifying...
I wonder what would happen if you two actually fought?"
"The clash of storms and magma...
sounds like it'd be quite the spectacle..."
At those words, Dragon and Sakazuki both fell silent for a beat —
then, as if by unspoken agreement, retracted their auras.
The hospital room instantly returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.
Though their anger still boiled inside them, neither wanted to give Borsalino the satisfaction of watching them lose control.
They both thought the same thing at once:
Better anything than letting that bastard Borsalino mock us.
Borsalino said wistfully, smirking.
"I was hoping to finally see who's truly the number one among the new generation of Marines."
Dragon and Sakazuki both stiffened slightly — but quickly forced themselves to calm down.
Lying in bed, Darren twitched the corner of his mouth.
This guy... he's really just here to stir trouble, isn't he?
His headache was getting worse.
"But you know, Commodore Darren..."
Borsalino turned his lazy gaze toward him, rubbing the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.
"Looking at those wounds of yours...
it's almost unbelievable you're still alive."
He clicked his tongue in admiration.
"A physique like a monster."
"The medical division even filed a request to study your body,"
Darren glanced at him, forcing a dry smile.
"Thanks, Rear Admiral Borsalino."
Borsalino grinned lazily.
Research like that should go to the Science Division, don't you think?"
He managed a very stiff smile.
Borsalino waved a hand dismissively.
"We're all colleagues here. No need for all the politeness."
My head hurts even more now... thanks so much.
Darren let out a long, heavy breath.
He glanced at the three troublemakers now casually sitting in chairs around the room —
Sakazuki, Dragon, and Borsalino —
each one acting as if they had all the time in the world.
"I say, Rear Admirals..."
"Don't you all have jobs to do or something?
Why are you all camped out in my hospital room?"
Dragon scratched his head, frowning.
"I feel like... there was something I was supposed to do...
Eh, must not have been important.
He burst out laughing, pulling out a pack of donuts from who-knew-where and munching loudly.
Beside him, Sakazuki crossed one leg over the other, face dark as ever.
His answer was short, sharp — classic Sakazuki.
He pulled out a cigar and tossed another one toward Darren.
Lighting his own with a glowing fingertip, he took a deep drag without another word.
Meanwhile, Borsalino fished a nail clipper from his pocket and casually began trimming his nails, muttering:
"I think there was something...
but it's probably fine..."
Darren stared at the three of them, clutching his aching head.
Pretend they're not here.
Just rest... just rest...
As long as they didn't start fighting again, maybe he could still salvage some peace.
A wave of exhaustion suddenly crashed over him —
the toll of his injuries overwhelming him once more.
His heavy eyelids slowly began to close.
Just as he was about to drift off—
"Bwahahahahaha!! Darren, my boy!! You awake yet?! Old Garp's here to see you!!"
A booming laugh — as loud as thunder — echoed down the entire corridor.
The hospital room door was kicked open.
Carrying half a roasted sea king beast slung over one shoulder, Garp stormed in with his usual swagger.
This meat's fresh off the sea!
He looked around and blinked.
"Huh? You brats are here too?
Perfect! Let's have a party!"
He turned to Tokikake.
"Hey, you! Go buy some booze!"
Garp waved him off grandly.
"Money? You think an old man like me carries money?!
Ask Darren later! It's his party, after all!"
Without waiting for a reply, Garp slammed the meat down.
What? Darren can't eat yet?
Well — we'll eat for him!!"
Darren stared blankly at the raucous, chaotic scene unfolding in front of him.
His remaining drowsiness evaporated instantly.
He lay there, gazing emptily up at the white ceiling.
I miss the North Blue...
Marineford, Headquarters.
A burly figure with cropped purple hair strode toward the conference hall with calm, heavy steps.
The Marines guarding the entrance snapped to attention, saluting with reverent excitement.
"I'm no longer an Admiral,"
Zephyr chuckled, patting one of the guards on the shoulder as he entered.
He found a seat at random, sitting down heavily — then frowned.
"I thought there was supposed to be a meeting, Sengoku?"
He turned toward Sengoku, who was already seated.
"And where is everyone?"
Sengoku sat there, staring at the rows of empty chairs.
Slowly, his face darkened to the color of the deepest thunderclouds.
Clenching his fists tightly, he gritted his teeth.