Ever since Darren helped the Marines dismantle the Beast Pirates’ headquarters, Kaido and what remained of his crew had vanished without a trace—swallowed by the vastness of the New World.
Their only public sightings had been few and fleeting: King the Wildfire’s appearance on Coin Island during the More-More Fruit incident, and Kaido’s temporary alliance with Golden Lion Shiki and Big Mom during the failed siege on Marineford.
In truth, after their victory over the Beast Pirates, Marine Headquarters had initially planned to strike while the iron was hot—to pursue Kaido and wipe out his remnants for good. But the plan was soon scrapped.
The New World was unstable. Intelligence on Kaido’s whereabouts was sketchy at best. Without a reliable lead, any operation risked devolving into disaster.
But Darren knew better.
He wasn’t relying on reports.
He had the advantage of knowledge—narrative knowledge.
And based on everything he remembered, there was only one likely conclusion: Kaido had already invaded Wano Country.
With Kozuki Oden sailing abroad, joining up with Whitebeard’s crew and eventually Roger’s, Wano had been left defenseless. Kaido, ever the opportunist, would’ve seized the chance. Just like in the original story.
There, he had joined forces with Kurozumi Orochi, taken over the country’s government, and turned it into his personal fortress—a base from which to conquer the seas.
Initially, Darren had considered launching his blitz against Kaido.
But he chose Big Mom instead.
Part of it was strategy: he wasn’t entirely sure Kaido was already in Wano.
But the greater reason... was strength.
Kaido wasn’t alone. His top commander, King, possessed powerful aerial mobility. If Darren launched a high-speed raid and both King and Kaido joined the battle, even a successful hit-and-run would come at a steep price.
Totto Land was different.
Big Mom’s territory was massive, scattered across dozens of islands. As long as Darren avoided the heart of her empire—Cake Island—she couldn’t reach him in time.
Snack Island had been the perfect target.
The live broadcast had spread across the world like wildfire. The mission had been a spectacular success—tactically, politically, and personally.
Now, Darren was free.
He no longer needed to worry about victory or reputation.
He could act on instinct.
And his instincts were pointing him to one place:
Thanks to Katakuri’s ferocious "guidance," Darren’s Observation Haki had undergone a dramatic transformation. His overall combat strength had risen sharply.
And now, even if Kaido and King both ambushed him, he was confident he could escape—especially if he kept his head and didn’t overcommit.
Besides, Kaido wasn’t yet at his peak.
Compared to that monstrous hag Big Mom, Kaido was still tame.
So what was there to hesitate about?
A grin spread across Darren’s face. Reckless, eager, hungry for more.
He shifted his stance atop Enma’s blade and twisted through the air, reversing direction with impossible speed.
Wano Country, here I come.
Marine Headquarters – Marineford
Fleet Admiral’s Office
"Moshi moshi—yes, King Knock. This is Sengoku."
The voice of Admiral Sengoku flowed cheerfully through the Den Den Mushi. "On behalf of Marine Headquarters, thank you again for your nation’s generous support of Marineford’s reconstruction."
"Vice Admiral Darren? Ah yes, of course! I’ve had my eye on that young man since the very beginning—hahaha!"
With a few more formal pleasantries, the line clicked off.
That was the thirteenth call today.
The royals of the World Government’s Member Nations hadn’t exactly opened their treasuries. Most "donations" hovered around thirty or forty million berries—small gestures, made to maintain appearances.
Still, Sengoku wasn’t complaining. Symbolic or not, every bit helped. Reconstruction required funds—lots of them.
In that sense, it was only proper for Marine Headquarters to call each contributor and offer formal thanks.
It should have been Fleet Admiral Kong’s responsibility.
But, in his usual fashion, Kong had rebranded the task as "mental discipline" and handed it off to Sengoku with a straight face.
The sound of chewing filled the office.
Sengoku’s eyelid twitched.
He turned to glare at the man slouched in the adjacent chair.
"Garp," he snapped, "if you’re not going to help, at least stop eating my senbei!"
"Bwahahaha!" Garp chuckled shamelessly, spraying crumbs across the desk. "Old Man Kong said this was your training, didn’t he?"
Sengoku’s mouth twitched.
"Besides," Garp added, reaching for another bag, "I’ve got an image to maintain. You, the proud Admiral, bowing and scraping for loose change from a bunch of fat nobles... tsk tsk tsk... disgraceful."
Sengoku’s fist slammed into the desk.
"Bastard Garp! Get out!"
"Alright, alright! No need to lose your hair over it." Garp stood, gathering three more bags of senbei on the way out.
Once the door slammed shut behind him, Sengoku sagged into his chair.
"Can’t be helped," said a familiar voice.
Tsuru entered with a stack of files in hand. "This isn’t glorious work—but someone has to do it."
Sengoku nodded. "The Marines aren’t just about fighting. These... gestures matter."
He held up the donation list and sighed. "Individually, they’re nothing. But together... they fund a ship. A new base. A family pension."
After a pause, he slapped his own cheeks lightly and picked up the next Den Den Mushi.
"Moshi moshi, King Raphael—this is Admiral Sengoku..."
Tsuru smiled faintly as she watched him.
The Marines needed warriors like Garp—heroes who took the front lines without hesitation.
But they also needed men like Sengoku.
Men willing to bear the weight behind the scenes.
Half an hour later, Sengoku finally hung up the last call and tossed the receiver aside with a groan.
"I swear, I’d rather fight Shiki again than listen to another one of those bloated royals ramble on..."
He leaned back, lit a cigar, and turned to Tsuru.
"Any word from Darren? He should’ve reported back by now."
Tsuru glanced up from her paperwork, brows knitting slightly.
The live broadcast from Snack Island had cut off after the destruction of Swollen Town. Since then—radio silence.
A pit of unease coiled in his chest.
He reached for the military Den Den Mushi and dialed Darren’s personal line.
Purupuru... purupuru...
Darren’s voice came through, calm and steady.
Sengoku exhaled slowly. His tension eased—but only slightly.
"Where the hell are you?" he barked. "You were supposed to report back. Don’t tell me you’re sightseeing across the New World!"
There was a beat of silence.
Then, Sengoku stared as the Den Den Mushi shifted—its face morphing into Darren’s trademark arrogant grin.
"Admiral Sengoku," Darren drawled, voice low and amused. "I’m in Wano Country."
Sengoku shot to his feet, his cigar tumbling to the floor.