Inside a luxury hotel suite—
Darren lounged back on a leather sofa, a lit cigar resting between his lips, fully focused on the map spread out in his hands.
It was a detailed chart of the Island of Coins, purchased at a high price from an information broker. It clearly outlined the island’s terrain, structure, building layout, and the positions of each trade port.
Less than an hour remained before the auction began.
Darren needed to confirm every piece of intel he had and refine his plan as much as possible before it all kicked off.
He never believed in effortless success—unless, of course, you were Borsalino.
As he studied the map, Darren marked the known positions of various pirate crews around the island’s ports and began considering how to best distribute his limited forces.
Viewed from above, the Island of Coins truly resembled its name—a perfect circle.
The "coin’s" edges were surrounded by sea. The closer one got to the center, the denser the commercial districts became—banks, trade halls, and financial institutions all clustered tightly.
At the very center of the "coin" stood the main auction venue.
Their operation this time had been rushed. Manpower was limited.
On top of the pirate forces that had already surfaced, they still had to account for the unpredictable threat of Golden Lion Shiki.
Which meant Darren had to be even more careful—flawless, if possible.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in," Darren called, flicking ash from his cigar.
"Commodore Darren, your iced whiskey."
A young Marine stepped in, respectfully offering a glass of liquor.
Darren smiled faintly and casually pulled out a colorful wad of bills, handing them over.
"N-no, that’s not necessary, Commodore Darren!"
The young man waved his hands frantically, face flushed.
"Go ahead, take it," Darren said, sipping his drink, eyes still on the map.
"I’m not in the habit of letting people work for free."
"It’s really fine! Just being able to serve you is an honor!" the soldier replied, visibly overwhelmed.
That finally drew Darren’s gaze upward.
The young Marine wore a cap low over slightly disheveled black hair. His face looked tired, but his eyes shone with admiration and awe.
Though still youthful, there was an unmistakable firmness in his expression.
Darren chuckled, letting it go.
The Marine scratched his head, flustered.
"I-I didn’t mean to turn down your kindness. I’m just so excited... Commodore Darren, I’ve admired you for a long time. You brought peace to the chaos of the North Blue... You even took down Byrnndi World..."
He stumbled over his words, breathless with admiration.
"You’re the idol I’ve always wanted to follow!"
Darren couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of this young man glowing with fanboy energy.
The Marine straightened up as if electrified, saluted sharply, and declared:
"Marine Headquarters Lieutenant Arthur, reporting to Commodore Darren!"
"My dream in joining the Marines was to protect the peace, uphold justice, and change the world—just like you!"
The words rang with youthful fervor.
Darren whispered the name to himself.
He couldn’t help but notice—perhaps it was just an illusion—but this young Marine’s aura bore a faint resemblance to Dragon, back before his defection.
That intense sense of justice. That slightly idealistic, dramatic air...
"Changing the world isn’t easy," Darren said suddenly, smiling.
"Arthur, would you like to serve under me?"
Arthur froze—then his eyes widened with joy.
"Of course," Darren replied.
"All it takes is a word to Admiral Sengoku."
Perhaps, somewhere deep down, this offer was a way to honor the memory of an old friend.
"Th-thank you, sir! I won’t let you down!!"
Arthur bowed deeply, hands trembling with excitement.
Darren gave a soft laugh.
For him, it was a minor gesture. But for Arthur, it meant everything.
The auction hall was deafening with shouting and noise.
Packed to the brim, the venue resembled a gladiator’s arena. At the center was a red-carpeted circular stage, surrounded by rows upon rows of seats.
Above those seats, luxurious VIP booths were enclosed by one-way glass—guaranteeing privacy and shielding their occupants from prying eyes.
"Darren, how the hell did you score a VIP box?"
Inside Suite 3A, Admiral Sengoku looked down from the panoramic window at the crowded arena below, marveling aloud.
The suite was extravagantly furnished—plates of fruits and snacks, the finest cigars and liquors from across the world.
The waiter had even subtly suggested that more "entertainment options" were available—free of charge.
As Sengoku puffed a cigar worth over 300,000 berries and sipped wine that probably equaled his annual salary, he couldn’t help but feel...
Had he wasted his whole life fighting wars?
"Three hundred million berries. VIP status."
Darren replied flatly.
Sengoku choked, spraying wine everywhere.
He stared in disbelief at Darren, who sat cross-legged, utterly relaxed.
"Three—three hundred million!?"
That’s enough to build three warships!!
"Admiral Sengoku, this mission is too critical to mess up."
"Our identities must remain secret. If we’re exposed, the entire auction could go up in flames. We’d lose our shot at the More-More Fruit altogether."
As Marines, they couldn’t afford to be recognized. If chaos broke out and the auction was canceled—they might never even see the fruit.
Still... Three hundred million!?
Sengoku paused—then narrowed his eyes, locking onto the table full of rare fruits and vintage drinks.
The money was spent. He wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
As Sengoku focused on sampling everything within arm’s reach, a man in a black tailcoat stepped onto the central stage below.
Grasping a microphone, he bowed with practiced elegance and smiled to the restless crowd.
"We extend our heartfelt thanks to all the honored guests who have traveled from around the world to attend this exclusive event, hosted by the esteemed Lord Lu Feld."
"On behalf of Lord Feld, welcome."
A few voices in the crowd shouted back:
"Cut the crap and start already!"
"Yeah, we don’t have all day!"
"Some of us have real things to do!"
The auctioneer chuckled politely.
"It seems you’re eager to begin. Very well—I won’t waste any more time."
"Let us begin the auction!"
"For our first item of the evening..."
He gestured, and several black-suited guards carried a long box onto the stage.
Spotlights flared. The box opened.
The auctioneer’s voice rang out, rich with drama:
"Our opening item is a legendary blade—crafted by a master smith of the South Blue."
"One of the Fifty Skillful Grade blades—Kariumi!"