On the deck of the warship, the North Blue Marines on duty immediately stood to attention and saluted the moment they saw Darren appear.
"You've all worked hard," Darren said with a smile.
The Marines shook their heads humbly, then returned to their posts.
The treatment in the North Blue Marine far exceeded that of counterparts in other seas. Beyond their base pay, they enjoyed fixed paid leave, were equipped with the finest firearms and weapons, and received the highest-level military training in the region.
Each and every North Blue Marine knew in their heart: they owed all of this to their Supreme Commander.
Darren walked slowly into the interior of the ship, descending a narrow staircase toward the lower deck.
There, in the ship's hold, a temporary prison had been set up.
This was where the commander of Germa 66, Vinsmoke Judge, was being held.
The moment he saw that damned Marine, Judge—tightly restrained in iron bindings and even gagged—began thrashing wildly. His bloodshot eyes radiated with hatred and fury, and muffled roars erupted from deep in his throat.
If looks could kill, Darren would've died a hundred times over under the searing, venomous glare Judge gave him.
With a casual wave of Darren's hand, the metal plate sealing Judge's mouth was yanked away and flung aside.
Immediately, Judge erupted in rage.
"You damned Marine brat!! How dare you imprison me!! You're finished as the North Blue Commander!!"
"Germa is a member of the World Government! You're dead—!"
Judge's pupils contracted.
A sharp steel rod twisted out from the prison walls, slicing through the air to hover inches from his brow.
Reflected in his widened pupils, the tip of the rod shimmered with a cold light beneath the flickering torchlight—like a venomous serpent poised to strike.
"Finished talking?" Darren asked calmly, smiling.
Judge clenched his teeth in silence.
"Looks like you are."
Satisfied, Darren beckoned with a finger, and the 'serpent' of steel slowly slithered back.
"Vinsmoke Judge, you're right about one thing: Germa is indeed a member of the World Government. And by Marine protocol, my actions here will definitely cause me a lot of trouble."
Darren lit a cigar and took a puff.
"But you forgot something..."
He gazed at the fallen king of the North Blue like a predator toying with its prey.
"You don't represent Germa."
Judge's heart skipped a beat. His voice wavered with forced bravado.
"What do you mean!? I'm the head of the Vinsmoke family—the king of Germa! How can I not represent my kingdom?!"
"No, no," Darren chuckled. "You still don't get it."
He exhaled smoke leisurely.
"This time, I seemingly destroyed a large portion of Germa 66's army. But you and I both know—it was just clone soldiers. With enough funding and time, you could recreate them easily."
"In the end, they're not human. Just weapons."
"And more importantly..."
"The World Government doesn't care about member nations. The Gorosei don't care. The Celestial Dragons care even less."
"What they care about—is whether the member nations deliver their tribute: the Heavenly Tribute."
"As long as Germa pays on time, the powers-that-be couldn't care less who sits on the throne. It doesn't have to be you, Vinsmoke Judge."
Judge's face turned pale.
"Ah, so now you understand," Darren said with a faint grin.
With a wave of his hand, the steel cage binding Judge opened like a blooming flower. Behind Darren, the twisting metal reformed into an elegant steel chair.
Judge, though nominally free again, didn't charge Darren. His face was grim, and he remained standing in place.
He knew—without his battle suit, he wasn't a match for this man.
Darren sat down slowly, puffing his cigar as he smiled.
"I'm sure the other noble families in Germa would be very interested in the throne. And I'm sure they'd be more than happy to see you dead and gone."
Judge's expression darkened.
Germa's history stretched long. Though the Vinsmokes held power, other noble families still existed. After returning from MADS and reclaiming Germa through superior technology, Judge had seized power brutally.
But not all were eliminated.
There were definitely those who would love nothing more than to see him die in Darren's hands.
"You won't kill me," Judge rasped.
"That's true. After all, you are technically a king of a World Government nation, and I'm just a lowly Marine Captain."
"But I could hand you over to the World Government."
"A scientist from the MADS group, one who worked alongside Vegapunk himself—I think the Government would be quite happy to have you in custody."
Judge's face twisted in alarm.
He had gone to great lengths to escape the Government's clutches and avoid becoming their research tool. How could this young Marine possibly know?
"You don't need to worry about what I know," Darren said calmly. "You just need to understand one thing."
"If you cooperate, you get to keep your crown. Your army. Maybe, when I'm in a good mood, I'll even help you achieve your dream of ruling the North Blue."
"I'll hand you to the Government, and raise another noble to the throne. As long as they raise Germa's tribute by 20%, the World Government won't just overlook what I've done—they might even award me for it."
Judge's face shifted between fury and despair.
Darren wasn't in a rush. He smoked slowly, letting the silence speak for itself.
He knew Judge's kind well.
Power-hungry. Arrogant. Vain.
Would he risk everything to save face, or surrender for the sake of power?
Darren already knew which path he'd take.
Thirty seconds later,
Judge finally raised his bloodshot eyes and spoke hoarsely:
"...What do you want?"