The New World — waters near Wano Country.
The sweltering air gathered into droplets on the jagged stone ceiling, falling with slow, rhythmic drips. In the empty and deathly still prison, the sound was piercing.
Two bloodstained figures sat in the darkened cell, their wounds no longer bleeding, but still raw.
"Never thought I'd end up locked in the same prison as a Marine... and yet here we are."
Bullet leaned his back against the blood-smeared, freezing wall, head tilted up slightly, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling above.
His long blond hair was matted, caked in dried blood.
Darren rolled his eyes weakly, the corners of his lips twitching.
The high-purity seastone shackles around his wrists drained him like nothing else—his body felt heavier than it ever had.
"Yeah, well... I didn't think a Marine like me would be imprisoned in a pirate's dungeon either."
He licked his cracked lips.
"I figured, if I ever got thrown in a cell, it'd be after pulling off something world-shattering. Maybe get a bounty from the World Government and end up in Impel Down or something."
Bullet glanced at him.
"Heard from Kaido that you're a 'monster' among the Marines... Someone like you, they'd do everything to cultivate. With time, you'd definitely become an Admiral. No way they'd let you get captured."
Their battle had left a deep impression on Bullet.
True, the one who'd gone head-to-head with him was that Sakazuki guy.
But Darren's bizarre Devil Fruit power, his ruthless decisiveness, and precise control of the battlefield made him even more difficult to deal with.
People like that always survived war.
Bullet knew—because he was one of them.
Darren gave a crooked smile.
Whether it was the lingering effects of the mummy virus or just blood loss and exhaustion, his consciousness was starting to blur.
"Weren't you a national hero too? And in the end, the World Government branded you a criminal. The world's twisted like that—who really understands it?"
Darren said no more either, leaning against the wall to rest.
"I'm not a deserter."
Bullet spoke suddenly, voice raspy.
"Sakazuki called me one. But I'm not."
He clenched his one remaining hand into a tight fist, veins bulging on the back.
Maybe it was shared misfortune—or maybe just the certainty that Kaido would eventually kill him. Either way, the former enemy now spoke to Darren with an unexpected openness.
"I joined the army when I was eight. Fought countless battles. Every command they gave me—I carried out without hesitation."
"I fought their last war alone. Defeated an entire army by myself."
"I won that war for them. Cut off the enemy general's head and presented it to our commanding officer and king. I thought that would be the end—my reward would be freedom."
"But when I stepped onto the podium, soaked in blood and victory... what welcomed me wasn't flowers, wasn't cheers, wasn't praise in the eyes of my superiors—"
"It was the cold, empty barrel of a gun."
A bitter sneer tugged at Bullet's lips.
It wasn't clear if he was mocking the arrogance of that nation... or his own stupidity.
"They never planned to give me freedom. I was never anything more than a weapon in their hands."
Darren cracked one heavy eyelid open and looked at him, voice flat.
"To those in power, weapons shouldn't have thoughts. And they definitely shouldn't have freedom."
"Especially powerful weapons... If they can't control them, they'll destroy them—no matter what."
"Because no one wants to be the one staring down the barrel when the weapon decides it's had enough."
"Exactly!!" Bullet growled, eyes flashing with wild light.
"That's why I acted!"
"They saw it—what their precious weapon was really capable of!"
He raised his arm, dragging the heavy seastone shackles with a harsh clatter.
"And then I realized—this so-called great empire was so damn fragile."
"Without me, they were nothing!"
Bullet threw his head back in crazed laughter, body trembling, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
But perhaps it was just his imagination—in Bullet's manic laughter, he thought he heard something else hidden deep inside:
A sorrow. A wound that had never really closed.
To destroy the nation he once served... to slaughter comrades he once fought beside... it couldn't have been easy.
Bullet's laughter gradually faded.
"What a damn shame... I was hoping to see for myself the strength of legends like Roger, Whitebeard, and Golden Lion..."
Darren spoke quietly:
"We're not dead yet. Kaido wants to recruit us."
Bullet scoffed and shook his head.
"That's just temporary. I won't yield. Once he realizes that, he'll kill me without a second thought."
"'If a powerful weapon can't be controlled, it must be destroyed'... That's what you said, isn't it?"
"But you're different. With your potential, the Marines will come for you."
"As for me... this is where my path ends."
He whispered hoarsely.
To Bullet, it made no difference whether he fell into Kaido's hands or the Marines'.
It would be either lifelong imprisonment... or execution.
Though Bullet's military background and strength would make him a valuable asset if recruited—
The man had annihilated his own nation, his own army. There was no political ground to bring him into the Marines. Doing so would make a mockery of the very concept of "justice."
And someone betrayed by his own military... would never join another.
"So, Darren. That story—was it true?"
Bullet looked up suddenly, staring straight at Darren.
"You fought Roger... and actually made him suffer? That really happened?"
Darren met his gaze and smirked.
"Then... was Roger strong?"
"Strong like a demon. Like a god. Compared to him, Kaido isn't even worthy of shining his boots."
Bullet's eyes lit up with fierce battle-lust, a wild gleam blazing in them.
"What did you do to him?"
Darren blinked slowly.
"I pulled his pants down."
His wild laughter echoed through the dark, grim prison.