"Ahh... what a refreshing sleep..."
Darren opened his drowsy eyes and stretched his arms with a deep yawn.
When he looked around, he found himself still lying amidst the ruins of the auction house, a thin blanket lightly covering his body.
"Commodore Darren! You’re awake!!"
A young Marine soldier came rushing over, saluting him with enthusiasm. His gaze, brimming with fervent admiration, landed on Darren with a reverence that could hardly be put into words.
"Mmm. How long was I out?"
Darren smiled as he looked at the Marine, whose face was still streaked with blood and dirt.
"Roughly an hour and a half," the Marine replied gravely. "We’re still cleaning up the battlefield."
Darren glanced into the distance and saw groups of Marines working in small squads — placing Seastone cuffs on surviving pirates, escorting prisoners, collecting bodies, and comforting the civilians.
He gave a slight nod and said with a gentle smile:
"You’ve all worked hard."
"Not at all!! Commodore Darren, it’s you who should rest and recover properly!"
The young soldier looked at Darren with blazing eyes — his adoration impossible to contain.
To single-handedly annihilate Golden Lion’s Flying Fleet...
To devise a strategy so sharp and overwhelming that it wiped out nearly every pirate on the island in one swoop...
And to seize the More-More Fruit in the process...
In all his years of service, he had never witnessed such an exceptional commanding officer.
Even though the official tally wasn’t yet complete, the mere fact that Golden Lion’s pirate fleet had been crushed — that feat alone was enough to inspire admiration in any Marine.
Darren quietly examined the state of his body and let out a muted chuckle.
His wounds had already been stitched and bandaged. After that solid nap, he could feel the beginnings of scabbing — the faint itch of healing flesh.
As for fatigue... it had mostly dissipated.
Ever since his physique stats crossed the 80-point threshold, his already formidable regenerative ability had leapt to an even higher level.
If his physique continued to grow — say, to around 90 — he suspected he might one day attain the terrifying recovery rate of a Zoan Devil Fruit awakened user.
With that thought in mind, he steadied his breathing and activated his innate sensing ability to scan his current stats:
Physique: 86.312 (Steel Body)
Devil Fruit: 81.211 (Island-wide Coverage)
Armament Haki: 50.035
Observation Haki: 37.117
Conqueror’s Haki: 53.301
The progress was remarkable.
Darren’s lips curled upward.
Indeed — fighting the strong was the fastest path to growth.
It just... cost a bit of life.
After this battle, all his core attributes — physique, strength, and speed — had improved by nearly a full point each.
That kind of growth through regular training would’ve taken at least a month.
At his current level, every fraction of progress came at a steep price.
Especially once a stat broke past the 80-point mark — it became exponentially harder to improve.
It truly felt like 80 was a distinct watershed.
Take "Devil Fruit," for instance.
If it hadn’t been for his training under the suppression of Sea Prism Stones, he never would’ve broken through that 80-point barrier — nor mastered the level of control needed to manipulate all the island’s metal and unleash Electromagnetic Wrath: Ten Thousand Cannons.
"So... perhaps it’s time to focus more on ’strength’ and ’speed’?"
Darren murmured to himself, deep in thought.
Once a stat surpassed 80, pushing it further demanded far more effort.
To gain more efficient, cost-effective growth, it made sense to get his other stats up to that same threshold first.
Crossing that line triggered a qualitative leap — a transformation born of sheer accumulation.
"You little brat, you’re finally awake."
Sengoku’s deep voice cut through Darren’s thoughts.
Darren snapped back to reality and turned to see Sengoku, drenched in sweat, working tirelessly amidst the chaos. He chuckled.
"Yes, Admiral Sengoku."
Sengoku’s face remained expressionless.
"Good. Then get your ass up already. We’ve got a mountain of work left to do."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, face dark, but offering warm smiles as he calmed the panicked civilians.
Not even going to ask how I’m doing?
I bled for the Marines! I fought for the government!
"What’s with the old man? Who pissed him off?"
Darren asked the Marine beside him, clearly puzzled.
This wasn’t like Sengoku. Normally, after a win , he’d be grinning ear to ear — feigning calm, but inwardly overjoyed.
The Marine’s face twitched.
"Uh... Commodore Darren, I’m not sure either."
"M-maybe Admiral Sengoku’s just in a bad mood?"
Darren pouted, grumbling,
"Winning a battle puts him in a bad mood? The man’s impossible to please."
Suddenly, a panicked voice echoed from nearby.
"Quick! Get help over here!!"
"Where’s the medic?!"
"There’s an injured man!!"
"Damn it!! Where’s the field doctor?!"
Startled, Darren saw a group of a dozen Marines rushing toward the commotion. His brow furrowed in concern.
The Marine shook his head.
"I don’t know either, sir."
"Let’s go take a look."
Darren stood and made his way over.
"Damn it... what is this thing?!"
A crowd had gathered, their faces filled with worry.
In front of them stood a massive pink "wall," solid and unyielding.
Inside it, encased as if in amber, was a young Marine — perfectly preserved.
"It’s... candy — made by Charlotte Perospero!"
"No good! We can’t break it open!"
A few Marines desperately slashed at the candy with their sabers, but even after chipping the blades, they couldn’t make a dent in the hardened pink shell — only sparks flew.
Darren’s eyes widened in recognition.
The man sealed inside... was Arthur.
The young Marine Darren had taken a liking to.
Inside the candy, Arthur held his saber tightly, his youthful face locked in an expression of unshakable resolve — still charging forward, fearless in the face of death.