"These two... what terrifying presence..."
Tokikake shivered as he watched Dragon and Sakazuki glaring at each other, their auras clashing violently.
"Dragon, your foolish mercy is holding you back... Even Daren sees things more clearly than you do," Sakazuki sneered. His entire right arm had melted into crimson magma, bubbling and dripping onto the floor, scorching deep black pits into the tiles.
"Justice gained at the cost of comrades' lives isn't justice at all!" Dragon snapped, his clenched fist swirling with a rising hurricane.
"Sakazuki, you've been wrong from the very start!"
Crack!
Waves of crimson and greenish-blue energy collided, shaking the walls and splitting the floor with jagged cracks.
"I'm just saying... can you two maybe spare a thought for the guy who's actually injured here?"
Daren sighed from his bed, rubbing his aching forehead.
Right then, a slow, deliberately irritating voice drifted in from outside the door.
"Sure is lively in here..."
Everyone turned, startled.
Borsalino had somehow appeared at the door without anyone noticing. Hands in his pockets, shoulder leaning against the frame, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Rear Admiral Borsalino!" Gion and Tokikake saluted in unison.
Borsalino didn't even glance at them. He simply strolled in, smiling lazily. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes flicked between Dragon and Sakazuki, brimming with amusement.
"Man, you both look intense... I wonder what'd happen if you actually threw down?"
"A storm against magma... now that would be a sight."
The moment he spoke, Dragon and Sakazuki fell silent, then simultaneously withdrew their auras.
All the tension in the room evaporated as if nothing had happened.
They were still seething inside, fists itching for a fight—but more than that, neither wanted to let this bastard Borsalino watch and laugh at their expense...
That thought crossed both their minds at the same time.
"What a shame... I was hoping to finally see who stands at the top of the new generation of Marines," Borsalino said, sighing theatrically with mock regret.
Both men stiffened but quickly swallowed their urges.
On the bed, Daren twitched at the corner of his mouth.
Borsalino really couldn't resist stirring the pot.
And now his head was hurting even more.
"But really, Commodore Daren... your injuries are brutal. A normal person would've died long ago."
Borsalino turned his gaze to Daren, scratching at his chin while eyeing his wounds with fascinated admiration.
"You're built like a monster."
"The medical corps actually submitted a request to study your body. I turned it down."
Daren shot him a sidelong glance and gave a half-hearted smile. "Well, thank you, Rear Admiral Borsalino."
Borsalino grinned. "No need to thank me. That kind of research should go to the Science Division, don't you think?"
Daren: ...
"Yeah... thanks a lot."
He forced a stiff smile.
Borsalino waved it off. "We're colleagues—no need to be so polite."
Head's throbbing worse now. Fantastic.
Daren let out a long breath and glanced at the three Rear Admirals—Sakazuki, Dragon, and Borsalino—now sitting in the ward like it was their personal lounge, arms crossed, saying nothing.
"Seriously, you three... why are you all hanging out in my hospital room? Don't you have anything better to do?"
Dragon scratched his head and frowned. "I think... I was supposed to do something. Can't remember. Must not've been important. Hahaha!"
He laughed loudly, pulled a bag of donuts from who-knows-where, and started munching.
Sakazuki crossed one leg over the other, his face cold. "No rush."
Short and sharp—classic Sakazuki.
He pulled out a cigar, tossed one to Daren, then stuck another between his lips.
A faint red glow lit at his fingertip as he lit the cigar and took a slow puff.
Borsalino, meanwhile, pulled a nail clipper from his pocket and casually trimmed his nails, mumbling, "Feels like there was something I needed to do..."
Daren watched them in silence, pressing his fingers to his forehead.
Forget it. I'll just pretend they're not here. I really need rest.
As long as they don't start fighting or yelling, maybe I can still—
Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. The weight of his injuries was catching up fast.
He couldn't hold his eyes open any longer and slowly drifted into unconsciousness.
"Hahahahaha! Daren, my boy! You awake? I came to check on you!"
A booming laugh echoed down the corridor, loud enough to rattle the windows.
Moments later, the door slammed open.
Garp marched in, head held high, a giant slab of roast meat slung over his shoulder—easily half a man tall.
"Here, eat this! It's Sea King meat! Took me forever to catch one!"
"Huh? You guys are here too? Even better—let's throw a party!"
"You! What's your name again—ah, Tokikake! Go grab some booze! What? Money? Does this old man look like he has money? Just ask Daren to pay for it later! It's his party anyway!"
"Alright, dig in! What's that? Daren can't eat yet? That's fine—we'll just eat it all ourselves!"
"..."
Daren stared at the ward, which had instantly turned into a festive chaos of singing, dancing, and shouting.
His eye twitched.
Any trace of sleep vanished completely.
Staring blankly up at the gray ceiling, he let out a long sigh.
He suddenly missed the North Blue.
...
Meanwhile, at Marine Headquarters, Marineford—
A broad-shouldered figure with short, vibrant purple hair walked with heavy, steady steps toward the conference room of the Marshal's Office, his presence solemn.
"Admiral Zephyr!"
The Marines standing guard saluted sharply, awe and admiration shining in their eyes.
"I'm no longer an Admiral," Zephyr replied with a smile, patting one of them on the shoulder before heading inside.
He found a seat at random and sat down, quickly frowning.
"Weren't we supposed to be having a meeting, Sengoku?"
He turned to the other side of the room where Sengoku sat.
"Where is everyone?"
Sengoku stared at the rows of empty chairs, his expression darkening by the second.
His fists clenched tight as he gritted his teeth.
"Those bastards!"
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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