Gion's gaze was sharp enough to pierce bone—a gaze so cold, so hostile, Darren could almost feel the edge of her killing intent brushing against his skin.
He let out a helpless, bitter smile.
So that's what this is about...
She must've heard the rumors. Those ridiculous whispers about him being "drained dry."
And... those two painfully "honest" comments he let slip in public.
"Seems like everyone's had quite the fulfilling few days..."
Darren shook his head, lips curling faintly in resignation, and raised a hand in greeting as he walked forward.
From the day he was sent on the mission to hunt down Bullet to now, only a little more than twenty days had passed.
And yet... with his biological magnetic field sharpened to its peak, Darren could sense it clearly.
His comrades had grown.
The energy pulsing from their bodies had grown thicker, more forceful—at least thirty percent stronger than before.
That kind of growth wasn't normal.
The strength of one's magnetic field reflected their fundamental essence—their stamina, spirit, fighting power—all of it together. A leap wasn't just numbers. It was transformation.
Sure, Zephyr's instruction played a role. But in the end, it came down to each one's own talent and effort.
This generation... really was the Marines' "Golden Age."
"Good. It's enough that you've returned."
Zephyr finally lowered the absurdly heavy machine gun he'd been hefting one-handed.
He eyed Darren from top to bottom, and the corner of his mouth lifted with satisfaction.
"You're looking a lot better than I expected, kid."
Darren gave a formal nod.
"Yes, Zephyr-sensei. I've recovered enough to resume full training."
Zephyr waved him off with a grunt.
"No need to rush it. Take a few more days if you need them."
Then his gaze swept across the rest of the students.
"That's it for today's physical drills. Free period now. Same rules as always—if you've got any problems with your training, my door's open."
"And Darren, report to Admiral Sengoku later. He wants the full rundown on your mission."
He gave them a sharp military salute.
Darren and the other students straightened at once and bowed.
"Thank you for your guidance, Zephyr-sensei!"
Zephyr gave a pleased nod and turned away, walking toward his office at a steady pace.
"HAHAHA, Darren!! I heard all about it!!"
As soon as Zephyr was out of earshot, Kuzan dashed over, slinging an arm around Darren's shoulders with a grin full of mischief.
Darren's mouth twitched.
"What exactly did you hear?"
A chill of unease crept into his gut.
Civilians spreading wild gossip was one thing. But if it'd reached the training camp? That would be a whole different disaster.
"Your record, man!!" Kuzan's eyes were practically glowing with excitement, and he punched the air. "Zephyr-sensei said you broke out of the Beasts Pirates' base alone!"
"And that you blew up their brand-new weapons factory! Is that true!?"
His eyes burned with hero-worship.
Darren relaxed slightly, letting out a slow breath of relief.
"That's... not exactly wrong. I got lucky, mostly—"
"—That's insanely cool!!"
Kuzan didn't even let him finish before shouting, face red with pure adrenaline.
But in the very next moment, he clutched his curls in despair.
"I can't believe I missed it! A mission that epic and I wasn't there! Aahhh!!"
"You'll get your chance," he said calmly, slipping out from Kuzan's grasp and giving his shoulder a friendly pat.
As long as nobody brought up those rumors, everything was fine.
"How's the recovery going?"
Yamakaji walked over, chomping on a cigar. He offered one to Darren and gave his shoulder a light punch.
"Don't let it leave any long-term issues."
Darren bit down on the cigar, lit it, and took a deep, satisfied puff.
"No worries. Whatever doesn't kill me only makes me stronger."
Then his eyes lit up like someone discovering ancient wisdom.
"That's deep. Damn good line."
He laughed, clapped Darren on the back.
"Glad to hear it. One of these days, I'll show you how my blade's coming along."
"I'll be waiting for it," Darren said with a grin.
Yamakaji nodded, turned away, then stopped suddenly.
"Oh right—almost forgot," he said in a lower voice. "Back when I was posted in South Blue, there was this tribe. They had a special... herbal remedy. Word is, it really helps with that issue."
Yamakaji's bearded face turned red. He coughed, lowered his voice to a whisper.
"You know... that. The one you... need."
Still confused, Darren followed Yamakaji's eyes—which were very clearly darting toward his groin.
"I DON'T NEED THAT!! I'm as strong as a damn monster!!"
Darren roared through gritted teeth.
"Alright, alright! Don't get so worked up. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
Yamakaji gave him a sympathetic nod and walked off.
That was Doberman, clapping his shoulder gently.
"Don't worry. It's probably just nerves after the mission."
Dalmatian offered a comforting smile.
Strawberry said flatly.
"As long as you can still fight, doesn't matter."
One by one, his classmates came forward, patted him on the shoulder, and offered solemn words of comfort—each more meaningful than the last.
All with the same look.
As if mourning the tragic downfall of a once-proud warrior.
In the end, Darren was left standing alone in the wind, mouth slightly open, as if the air itself had turned against him.
He stood there for a long, long time.
Then finally, he clenched his fists, ground his teeth, and shouted:
Just outside the gates, Yamakaji turned, confused.
He saw Tokikake sneaking over, glancing around like a thief.
Tokikake leaned in, rubbing his hands with a grin.
"That medicine you mentioned... it's real, right?"
Yamakaji nodded gravely.
"Real as it gets. Nobles in South Blue pay a fortune for it. If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have told Darren."
Tokikake's eyes sparkled.
"Well, see... I have this friend..."
Darren didn't even remember how he reached the office.
His mind was still foggy as he raised a hand and knocked on the door.
"Come in," came the calm, commanding voice from within.
He pushed open the door, stepped inside, and saluted listlessly.
"Admiral Sengoku. You called for me?"
Sengoku looked up slowly.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then his gaze turned sharp, and his voice dropped to a glacial tone that made the air itself freeze.
"It was you who killed Saint Shaldes... wasn't it?"
Darren's pupils shrank to pinpoints.