"What did you just say?!"
Bullet’s eyes went wide, disbelief flashing across his face. For a long mont, he just stared at Darren, as if unsure he’d heard correctly. Then—slowly, unconsciously—his back straightened, his chest puffed out, and his eyes burned with raw, youthful fire.
Darren hid his satisfaction behind a faint smirk.
He’d hit the mark.
For all his towering physique and monstrous strength, Bullet was still little more than a teenager—barely older than Doflamingo. His mind, for all its battle-hardened pride, was still young.
And in this world of pirates, pride was everything.
What man of the sea could resist such praise—especially from Rogers Darren, the man who had slain legends, the Marine whose very na sent shockwaves across the Grand Line?
Recognition from him carried more weight than any bounty or title.
And in that instant, Darren could see it—Bullet’s eyes alight with a renewed spark, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself.
"Isn’t that right?" Darren said evenly, his gaze unwavering. "You’re what—sixteen, seventeen? At that age, you’re already a Gold-Tier fighter, standing shoulder to shoulder with monsters like Kaido and Whitebeard."
He exhaled smoke, his tone casual yet commanding. "Give yourself a few more years, Bullet—and no one on this sea will dare call themselves your equal."
The words struck like thunder.
Bullet froze.
He’s right.
I’m still young. My path’s just begun. With more ti—more fights—no one could stop .
That brief flicker of despair in Bullet’s chest was instantly burned away, replaced by a blazing determination that made his eyes glimr with life again.
Darren watched it all—the rise, the spark, the swelling pride—and then struck where it hurt most.
"But if you let yourself rot in Impel Down," he said softly, voice dripping with scorn, "all of that vanishes."
The light in Bullet’s eyes faltered.
"Think about it," Darren continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You can’t beat now. Locked away for years—decades—your body will waste away, your strength will dull. The gap between us will only grow wider."
"You’ll never beco the World’s Strongest. You’ll never conquer the Grand Line."
He gave a cruel, mocking grin. "Hell, by then you might not even be able to beat Crocodile."
"Enough!!" Bullet roared, blood vessels bursting in his eyes.
"Shut your damn mouth, Darren!"
He lunged as far as his shackles allowed, muscles bulging as the Sea Stone chains bit deep into his wrists. The clanging of tal echoed violently through the cell as he struggled, his entire body trembling with rage.
The contrast between Darren’s calm smile and Bullet’s fury was almost theatrical.
One mont, Darren had exalted him above all others—placed him among the gods of war.
The next, he’d thrown him into the abyss.
It was manipulation at its finest.
And it worked perfectly.
Because for soone like Bullet—driven by pride, consud by ambition—death wasn’t the greatest fear.
The true nightmare was helplessness.
The thought of living long enough to watch his rival soar beyond reach.
Darren’s smirk deepened. The hook was set.
"Shut up?" he echoed lightly. "Impossible, Bullet. This is the victor’s privilege—the right to lecture the defeated."
He flicked ash from his cigar, his voice turning almost wistful. "But don’t take it the wrong way. I wouldn’t bother if you weren’t worth it."
"I don’t want to lose a rival like you."
He leaned forward slightly, smoke coiling around his face like a shroud. "So beco one of the Shichibukai."
Bullet stiffened, but Darren’s tone remained calm—persuasive, almost hypnotic.
"Join them, and you’ll walk free. No orders, no restrictions. You’ll hunt strong foes, hone your strength, and chase your dream on your own terms."
He let the words hang for a mont before adding, quietly, "You wanted to know the secret behind my power, didn’t you?"
Bullet’s glare flickered.
Darren smiled faintly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Join the Shichibukai, and I’ll tell you. You’ll grow stronger—strong enough to crush every obstacle in your path."
"Maybe even strong enough... to challenge Roger himself."
The words dripped like honey laced with poison.
A soft wind swept through the dim hold, carrying with it the faint crackle of Haki as Bullet trembled—not with rage this ti, but with temptation.
He gritted his teeth, face twisted with inner conflict.
Darren struck again, his tone as smooth as silk. "Don’t worry about the Marines breathing down your neck. The Shichibukai operate independently. Even Headquarters can’t mobilize them unless it’s a full-scale ergency."
Then ca the finishing blow.
"Once you join..." Darren smiled, his eyes gleaming like twin blades. "You and I will be allies."
"And when you’re ready..." he said, exhaling smoke through his teeth, "you can co find . Any ti. Anywhere."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Bullet’s labored breathing slowed. His head dipped low, golden hair hiding his face.
Darren didn’t push further. He simply waited—patient, confident, letting the tension hang heavy between them.
A minute passed. Then another.
Finally, Bullet spoke, his voice hoarse but steady.
"...What’s the secret?"
Darren smiled.
---
A gust of sea wind swept across the deck.
Borsalino lay sprawled in his beach chair, lazily soaking in the sun. The three Headquarters Vice Admirals were posted nearby, sharp-eyed, alert—until suddenly, sothing shifted in the air.
Their instincts flared.
"Alert!"
Swords rang out in unison as they turned toward the cabin door. Marines flooded the deck, rifles raised, ready for anything.
Bang!
The cabin door exploded off its hinges, splinters scattering across the deck.
From the smoke erged a towering figure, his massive fra radiating raw nace. Douglas Bullet strode out like a walking storm, his golden hair disheveled, his eyes burning—but not with hatred.
He cracked his neck, exhaled, and sat heavily beside Borsalino, who didn’t so much as flinch.
"Relax, everyone," ca Darren’s easy drawl as he stepped into the sunlight behind him. "Before you stands our new ally—Douglas Bullet."
For a mont, the deck went silent.
He actually did it...
The Vice Admirals traded stunned glances, the sa thought flashing through each of their minds. He actually convinced him.
Bullet ignored them all. Soone brought him at and rum, and he ate like a starving beast, tearing through food and liquor alike before lighting a cigar and leaning back with a sigh of satisfaction.
"So, that’s it?" he asked, glancing sidelong at Darren.
"That’s it," Darren replied with a small grin. "What you do from here is your business."
He raised a brow. "Just don’t disappoint , Bullet. I’d hate to think I wasted my ti."
"Tch!" Bullet spat, though the fire in his eyes said otherwise. "I won’t lose again, Darren. Next ti, I’ll be the one standing over you."
He rose to his feet, his Conqueror’s Haki flaring instinctively. The air shuddered around him, the entire ship groaning under the invisible pressure.
Darren chuckled, lighting another cigar. "That’s the spirit."
He took a drag, then added casually,
"Oh—almost forgot."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"Congratulations," he said. "The esteed Shichibukai."
To be continued...
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