The last light of sunset cast a long shadow behind the tall figure of the Marine commodore, stretching across the earth beneath his feet.
The ocean lay still and calm. Seabirds skimd the surface, wings brushing the waves as their cries echoed faintly across the water.
Senor looked at Darren, who stood there smoking quietly. Smoke curled around his sharply defined profile, and after a mont of silence, Senor finally asked:
"Lord Darren... if you couldn't beco friends with him, why didn't you just kill him?"
If you're not a friend—then you're an enemy.
And enemies must be eliminated completely.
That was the philosophy Senor had grown up with in the Donquixote Family.
Darren chuckled lightly.
"Even with one arm gone, that guy's not soone I can kill so easily."
Bullet's strength was already bordering on that of a full-fledged admiral. Though Darren's physical growth had far surpassed his during their recent imprisonnt, Bullet still held a clear edge in Armant Haki.
All things considered, if they were to clash again on land, Darren didn't think he'd co out ahead.
A glint of reflection passed through his eyes, and his tone grew deeper, laced with aning.
"And besides, Senor... do you know sothing?"
"For people like , sotis an enemy is more important than a friend."
Senor nodded, half-understanding, then asked again:
"So what now? That vivre card was destroyed during the battle. The reinforcents from the Marines likely won't be able to find this place."
Darren shrugged casually.
"No rush. They'll need so ti to clean up the ss first."
If Admiral Sengoku followed the vivre card and found Kaido's base, a full-blown battle would definitely erupt.
But... if the Marines really deployed the forces Senor had just described—
Darren's mouth twitched slightly.
He found himself silently offering a brief prayer for Kaido.
"Let's find a town and get so rest. I'm fine, but you... your injuries still need treatnt, even if they're not fatal yet."
Senor nodded in agreent.
His condition was far from good—large swathes of his skin were scorched and blistered. Without proper treatnt, infection and blood loss could quickly lead to organ failure.
The All-Star known as "Queen the Plague" had indeed lived up to his na.
In the face of these sea emperors of the New World, Senor's own strength felt utterly insignificant—like an ant waiting to be crushed.
Wait...
"'I'm fine'!?"
Wasn't Lord Darren's condition worse than mine?
He'd been imprisoned and tortured for days—
Senor turned instinctively to examine Darren's injuries.
His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open.
Scabbed... already!?
———
One day later.
A thriving trade town on a neutral island in the New World.
"The wounds have been disinfected and treated. Nothing life-threatening. Just make sure not to get them wet this week, and change the dressings on ti."
"Thanks, doctor."
Darren smiled and casually slipped a thick stack of colorful banknotes into the doctor's kit.
"Oh no, I couldn't possibly—"
The doctor made a half-hearted protest, but made no real attempt to stop him.
Once the doctor left, Darren turned to Senor, smiling:
"How are you feeling?"
Senor sat shirtless, his torso wrapped in bloodstained bandages, a suit jacket draped over his shoulders.
"Much better."
He gave a weary smile.
Darren tossed him a cigarette, lit one for himself, and said gently:
"Senor, I was serious about what I said before. Why not reconsider?"
"With your talent and strength, staying with the Donquixote Family is a waste. Doffy's a promising kid, sure—but he's reckless. Immature. He makes decisions with his temper more than his brain."
"Honestly, you know what he's like. As his godfather, I've spent more than my share of sleepless nights."
"I need soone like you. Say the word, and I'll offer you power, position, wealth—and the best training resources this sea has to offer."
"If you agree, I'll even personally recomnd you for the next Elite Officer Training Camp back at Marine Headquarters."
"There's no need to doubt—I have the authority to make that happen."
Darren's gaze was sharp and earnest.
What Senor had shown in their recent ordeal—his composure, resilience, reaction speed, tenacity—had deeply impressed him.
Add in the unique powers of the Swim-Swim Fruit... If nurtured properly, Senor could beco a formidable asset under his command.
And most crucially—Senor was only sixteen.
Sixteen—and already this capable.
That alone spoke volus.
As far as Darren was concerned, keeping soone like him locked away in the Donquixote Family was a tragic waste of potential.
And ultimately, that was Doffy's fault.
Donquixote Doflamingo... the man had no idea how to cultivate talent.
"Lord Darren..."
Senor offered a pained smile.
"I won't deny it—your offer is truly tempting."
His expression flickered with hesitation. But after a mont's silence, he clenched his fists, and his eyes regained their usual calm and firm resolve.
"But I'm sorry. I have to refuse."
"Oh?"
Darren raised an eyebrow, but wasn't upset.
"Mind telling why?"
Senor answered quietly:
"When I had nothing—not even clothes to wear or food to eat—it was Lord Doflamingo who saved ."
A gentle, distant smile crept across his lips as his gaze softened with mory.
"I still rember the day he gave a suit I could never afford in a thousand lifetis... and he told —"
'Senor, you've got the temperant of a man who looks good in a suit.'
He reached up, fingertips brushing the fabric of the jacket over his shoulders, eyes growing more complicated.
"He gave food, shelter, identity, rank, honor... and even a Devil Fruit—one of the rarest treasures on the sea."
"I have no reason to ever leave the Donquixote Family."
"So, I'm truly sorry, Lord Darren."
Darren scratched his head with a sigh.
"I see. Well, fair enough—I won't push you."
He chuckled at himself.
"But I think I finally understand how Kaido must've felt. Being turned down really doesn't feel great, huh..."
"Get so rest, Senor."
With that, Darren turned to leave the room.
Just as his hand reached the door, he paused—then turned around with a faint, mysterious smile.
"But, Senor... you know sothing?"
"There are so clothes in this world that might not cost as much as a tailored suit—"
"—but they an far more."
"And no expensive suit could ever replace the weight of what they stand for."
---
To be continued...
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