Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
A deafening symphony of explosions echoed through the sky. Katakuri’s fists rained down like thunderclaps, shockwaves bursting outward in rippling arcs that tore through the air.
Darren was caught in the center of the storm—a lone figure swallowed by the onslaught, like a battered ship tossed in a violent tempest, moments from sinking beneath the waves.
A Haki-hardened mochi fist crashed into Darren’s left cheek. Blood sprayed from the corner of his mouth.
Another blow struck his gut, hard and deep. A mixture of blood and air erupted from his throat.
Katakuri’s strengths were focused. Hyper-focused.
His Observation Haki—razor-sharp, honed to the point of foresight.
His Devil Fruit development—refined, awakened, mastered.
Together, those two skills barely qualified him as a Gold-Tier Fighter.
But the rest—his raw physical strength, his explosive power, his Armament Haki—still lagged behind. He was young. Not yet at his peak. In terms of raw brawn, he was still a Silver Tier, second or third rank at best.
That was why he never fought up close.
He couldn’t afford a direct confrontation with Darren—one mistake, one miscalculation, and Darren would break through his defenses like a hammer through glass.
So Katakuri fought from a distance. Pressuring. Grinding. Using his awakened Mochi-Mochi Fruit and foresight to bury Darren under an avalanche of high-speed, high-volume attacks.
And it worked—on paper.
Darren couldn’t fully counter without his own foresight. His Observation Haki had yet to stabilize. So he took the hits. Narrowly avoiding the vital ones. Letting his body absorb the rest.
Blood streaked down his ribs. Bruises bloomed across his arms and chest.
His grin only widened.
The violet lightning crackling in his eyes grew more erratic, more feral. His pupils shimmered with a savage, manic light.
Because something inside him was changing.
"Yes!" Darren roared. "This is it! This is exactly how it felt!"
That ecstasy—pain and evolution intertwined.
He could feel himself adapting, his body recalibrating with every blow. His nerves, his instincts, his energy perception—everything was sharpening, refining.
Darren’s fists flew, smashing through the mochi assault like hammers breaking stained glass. His punches, reinforced with Armament Haki, split the mochi fists apart in bursts of shattering white.
Katakuri’s breath caught.
He’s adapting. Mid-battle. In real time.
It was impossible. Illogical.
And yet—it was happening.
"This guy... He’s evolving through my attacks?"
Katakuri’s heart pounded. A chill ran through his spine.
He had stood against wave after wave of enemies. Some noble, some monstrous, none forgettable.
But never had he faced something .
A man who could withstand his full power and improve from it.
A man who, under the relentless weight of his attacks, not only refused to fall—but grew stronger.
Is this... the Marine version of Big Mom?
For the first time, Katakuri felt it.
That same suffocating pressure he had only ever known in front of his mother.
Darren felt it immediately.
His grin thinned into a frown.
Is this lesson already coming to an end?
His Observation Haki’s growth had stalled—no longer climbing. Katakuri’s offense had softened.
He couldn’t let this end now. Not when his growth was peaking.
With blood still trailing from his lips, Darren tilted his head back and laughed—loud and cruel.
"Is this it, Katakuri? Is this all you’ve got? Hah!"
He looked down with contempt, voice rising with venom.
"And here I thought you were supposed to be the big brother worth avenging!"
Katakuri stiffened. The words hit like a slap.
"Shut your mouth!!" he roared, veins bulging across his forehead.
He threw himself forward, fury igniting every nerve.
Darren’s smile deepened into something darker.
"Not enough! Not nearly enough!"
"The sea calls you Charlotte’s greatest masterpiece! Your siblings look up to you like you’re untouchable... But this is how you protect them?"
His voice dropped, cold and sharp.
"You want to protect them?"
"Don’t make me laugh."
Darren’s eyes narrowed, seething with mockery.
"You haven’t protected anything."
Yeah, yeah... villains usually say things before they get slapped into the dirt. But then again, I’ve never been the hero type.
He rolled the taunts out with practiced ease, each word laced with poison.
And Katakuri—he took the bait.
His fury surged. His snarl twisted into something animal.
Even fiercer than before.
Darren braced himself. But now, something was off.
My Observation Haki isn’t improving as quickly...
He narrowed his eyes, analyzing.
Maybe Katakuri’s no longer strong enough to push me... Or maybe my Haki’s reaching that point where further growth gets slower. That steep climb at the top...
He pondered for a heartbeat, then made a decision.
Let’s see if I can squeeze a little more out of him.
With a wicked glint in his eye, he sneered.
Darren raised his voice, loud enough for every syllable to pierce through the din.
"I get it now—I finally understand why Big Mom wants me as her husband!"
Katakuri’s breath hitched.
Darren leaned in, voice dropping to a dagger-like whisper.
"She’s disgusted by your weakness."
"That’s why she needs someone stronger—to replace you."
The effect was instantaneous.
Katakuri’s scream tore from his throat, primal and raw.
"Mother trusts me! She always has! I’ve been her right hand since I was a child!"
"Nothing can change that!!"
He launched forward, face twisted in fury, voice cracking with the weight of his unraveling restraint.
"I AM THE CHARLOTTE FAMILY’S ULTIMATE MASTERPIECE!!"
His power surged wildly. Unstable. Furious.
Darren’s heart pounded in his chest—and he laughed like a madman.
"Funny... because Big Mom didn’t seem to think that when she joined forces with Golden Lion and Kaido just to get her hands on me."
He stepped forward, his voice dripping with scorn.
"What’s she ever done for you, Katakuri?"
"I’ve killed her sons. Lots of them."
"And what did she say?"
He threw his arms wide, as if presenting himself to the world.
"Probably something like: ’No big deal~’"
Then, with mock innocence, he added:
"And let me guess... she probably makes you call me Father, doesn’t she?"