The Marine ship cut steadily across the sea.
A cold wind snapped at the gull-marked Marine flag fluttering from the mast.
Darren stood quietly at the prow, ignoring the strange glances from nearby Marines at the Seastone cuffs still locked around his wrists. Eyes closed, he let the wind wash over him, savoring this fleeting peace.
At the same time, he carefully examined his current condition.
Armament Haki: 43.035
Conqueror's Haki: 52.301
Over the past half year, his training had focused mainly on developing Observation Haki and practicing hand-to-hand combat under Garp's instruction.
Reflecting that, his most notable gains were in strength and Armament Haki.
Strength had risen by 3 points; Armament Haki, even more impressively, had leapt from 38 to 43—a solid 5-point jump.
His physique and speed had increased modestly as well, by around 2–3 points, likely as an overflow effect from the other training.
All in all, Darren was fairly satisfied.
At his current level, every single point of growth was exponentially harder than before.
Take Physique, for example. At this stage, regular endurance training barely made a dent. He could already predict: the closer his stats inched toward 100, the more brutally difficult progress would become.
In fact, serious injury could even cause those numbers to drop.
"Darren kid, how's your training coming along lately?"
Sengoku, draped in his Admiral's coat, walked up beside him and casually handed over a cigar.
Darren took it without hesitation, smiling.
Sengoku lit his own cigar and exhaled slowly.
"At your level, ordinary training barely helps anymore. From here on, you either spend absurd amounts of time in discipline and refinement... or fight for real."
His eyes flicked to the Seastone cuffs still clamped around Darren's wrists.
"How's your Observation Haki coming along?"
Darren let out a wry smile.
"I've brushed the threshold. But it's still hazy... just one step away."
Sengoku frowned, a suspicion flickering across his mind.
"You're not thinking... of fighting Shiki while still shackled—to force yourself into awakening under the pressure of death?"
Darren gazed out at the endless horizon, voice low.
"That's the only way left."
"Zephyr-sensei's training was helpful. But in the camp, my sparring partners were comrades. No one would ever try to kill me."
"I can feel it—if I stay stuck , if I keep failing to break through, the longer I wait, the smaller my chances become."
"...Facing death is the only true trigger."
Humans fall into patterns.
Once you get used to relying on defense and Devil Fruit abilities, the body's subconscious stops "wanting" Observation Haki.
According to both training camp data and Zephyr's experience, the older one gets, the harder it becomes to awaken Haki.
Darren was already twenty. Young, yes—but not limitless. His window wasn't as wide as it seemed.
"...You maniac," Sengoku finally muttered.
"You can't stand beside real monsters unless you act a little crazy too."
As he spoke, yesterday's image resurfaced in his mind.
Kuzan—who'd grasped Garp's entire fighting technique after seeing it once.
How he did it? Darren had no idea.
Just as Garp couldn't explain how he fought, Kuzan couldn't explain how he learned.
Some things are like that. You either get it, or you don't.
And Garp's fists weren't some common Marine style—they were true combat arts, secret-level mastery.
Kuzan had bridged a gap in a minute that took Darren six months to even approach.
Sengoku fell silent too, his gaze drifting—perhaps unconsciously—toward the ship's starboard side.
There, Borsalino lounged in a beach chair with a glass of watermelon juice.
Sengoku's lips twitched.
That lazy bastard didn't look like he was heading into a mission to confront a legendary pirate.
More like a man on paid vacation.
And yet... the more Sengoku watched him, the more unsure he became of Borsalino's real strength.
He was technically his subordinate, and yet—he was unreadable.
That, in itself, was dangerous.
This guy never trained seriously. Never showed up for drills. Just drifted through life.
Sengoku sighed and shook his head, then changed the subject.
"Darren kid, do you know why I brought you along on this mission?"
Darren thought for a moment.
"My Devil Fruit ability is well suited for large-scale combat."
"Exactly. While Sakazuki has more raw destructive power, your abilities are much better suited for countering Shiki's flying pirate fleet."
"More importantly, I want you to witness their strength firsthand. One day, we might form our own airborne Marine fleet."
Darren's brow furrowed slightly.
He heard something else in Sengoku's words.
"So... our goal isn't to kill Shiki?"
Sengoku sighed and shook his head, eyes heavy.
"Shiki's too cunning. He's not so easily taken down."
"We've tried hunting him before—multiple times. He always escapes with his Devil Fruit."
"He's nothing like Whitebeard or Roger. Shiki's brutal. Cold. He doesn't care who dies. He'll use his own men as shields without blinking."
"That's why our primary objective this time... is to wipe out the living force of his flying pirate crew."