Darren’s Observation Haki was evolving—fast. Faster than ever before.
Now this... this is a real master.
The quality of this "lesson" was something he hadn’t felt since the brutal, almost sadistic training under Fatty Quinn in the Beast Pirates’ prison.
A dense, mochi-laced fist smashed into Darren’s face. His head snapped to the side with a vicious crack. His cheekbone bruised, blood welled from the corner of his mouth.
And yet—his eyes only burned brighter.
Observation Haki had always been his Achilles’ heel.
Darren had long relied on his monstrous physique and magnetic field perception. By comparison, the elusive nature of Observation Haki had remained frustratingly out of reach.
It had taken Zephyr-sensei’s cruel, near-deadly training—his wrists bound in Sea Stone shackles, his body driven to the brink—to finally awaken the ability.
But awakening it was one thing.
That was another beast entirely.
No matter how he pushed himself, the skill had remained stagnant, inching forward at a snail’s pace. His progress had been all pain and no payoff.
Now, in the heart of battle, Darren felt it again—that familiar, bittersweet ecstasy of evolution. The kind he’d only felt under the relentless torment of the Beast Pirates.
This wasn’t just a brawl. This was adaptation.
Every strike from Katakuri, every clash of fists, wasn’t just endured—it was studied. Mimicked. Internalized.
Darren wasn’t simply taking hits. He was learning.
Observing how Katakuri used his Haki—how he sensed, how he predicted—Darren pushed his own instincts to match.
Bit by bit, as the rain of fists continued, the fog lifted. The blows that had once been blurs now carried shape. Clarity. His perception sharpened like a blade. The crimson gleam in his eyes deepened.
Katakuri began to notice.
Something had changed.
His punches weren’t landing like before.
At the start of the battle, he could connect five out of ten blows.
Now? Two, at best. And even those seemed... shallow.
A chill ran down his spine.
He’s improving—right before my eyes!
Katakuri’s expression darkened with disbelief.
"His Observation Haki is growing stronger—in real time?!"
"Impossible!" he snarled, voice cracking as his fists thundered down harder, faster, more desperate.
The storm of punches grew into a full-scale downpour—black-and-red fists slamming like falling meteors. Each one laced with killing intent.
But Darren stood tall, laughter curling from his bloodied lips.
"Don’t underestimate yourself, Katakuri," he said, voice low and wild. "You’re one hell of a teacher."
And then, behind that grin—
That eerie red shimmer deep in Darren’s eyes pulsed, and with it came a breakthrough.
Observation Haki—60 points.
His weakest skill had just overtaken his Armament Haki.
In a single breath, the battlefield shifted.
Sound dropped away, muffled and distant, as if underwater. Everything moved in deliberate, exaggerated frames—every leaf, every ripple of dust, every flicker of movement etched into his vision like ink on a scroll.
A quiet clarity settled over him.
Darren blurred forward, electricity arcing in blue strands behind him. He slipped through the storm of punches like a ghost, his body a living bolt of precision.
His thigh muscles tensed, cords of power flexing beneath his uniform. He twisted, launching a brutal side kick toward Katakuri’s gut.
Katakuri barely had time to cross his arms before the kick landed.
The force erupted outward in a shockwave so violent it cracked the ground beneath them.
Katakuri was launched like a cannonball—his breath torn from his lungs, blood flying from his mouth.
Boom! One building shattered.
Boom! Another exploded in dust and rubble.
He tore through over a dozen structures, carving a path of destruction through the heart of Swollen Town. He finally crashed into the far-off ruins, a hundred-meter-tall plume of dust rising in his wake.
The island groaned beneath the impact. Pebbles bounced and skittered across the fractured earth.
"Dead?" Darren muttered, landing with fluid ease. He wiped the blood from his mouth and narrowed his eyes at the distant wreckage.
He hadn’t meant to go all out.
But in that moment, as his Observation Haki surged, he’d instinctively let it happen.
Katakuri’s "guidance" was working. And Darren had no plans of letting a teacher go to waste.
Sure, Kaido and Big Mom were strong—but their teaching style was all blunt force trauma. One wrong move and you were dead. No space to adapt, let alone learn.
Young, but already wielding future-sight like a master. Yet not so powerful that Darren couldn’t overwhelm him. Just strong enough to push him. To teach.
He was a goldmine of experience.
Perfect sparring partner.
His Observation Haki had only just broken 60. There was so much more room to grow.
Compared to that guy, the one who mastered future-sight in half a day, Darren still felt slow.
But he’d take steady progress over nothing.
A ragged voice rose from the rubble.
"Impossible... How could I lose... ..."
From the dust, a bloodied hand clawed out, trembling.
Katakuri’s form staggered into view, coughing violently, blood dripping from his chin. One knee hit the ground, his hand bracing against it for balance.
His scarf had torn away.
The face it once hid—a monstrous visage with curved fangs—was fully exposed.
His crimson eyes locked onto Darren, seething with pain and fury.
"I promised... I’d protect my siblings..."
"I won’t let you win! Not here! Not now!"
And with that, he roared.
The cry echoed across the shattered town—and the world responded.
The ruins of Swollen Town—the scorched stone, the collapsed buildings, the cracked trees—
The land itself writhed, convulsing into white.
Walls, rubble, earth—everything transformed into a churning ocean of white mass, alive and furious beneath Katakuri’s feet.
A storm of awakened power.
"Devil Fruit ability... awakened!"
Then burst out laughing, elated.
He hadn’t even finished training his Observation Haki...
And now he was getting a Devil Fruit awakening lesson, too?