"Young Darren, you can finally tell us now, can't you?"
The Marine officers grumbled as they shuffled out of the VIP ward, the door clicking shut behind them. The chatter faded, leaving only four people inside: Sengoku, Darren, Momonga, and Borsalino.
The air felt heavier now—thick with cigar smoke and the scent of antiseptic. Sengoku's sharp eyes narrowed as he studied Darren, who lounged against his pillow with the ease of a man who had no right to look that calm after nearly dying.
"The person you mentioned…" Sengoku began slowly. "It couldn't possibly be—"
"That's right," Darren interrupted with a weary sigh. "It's Dragon."
Even Borsalino straightened at that.
Darren exhaled a long plume of smoke, his gaze distant. "I wanted to keep it quiet. The fewer people who know, the better. But I underestimated your instincts, Admiral Sengoku."
Sengoku said nothing. His expression hardened as the weight of the name sank in.
Monkey D. Dragon.
The world's most wanted man.
A revolutionary branded traitor by the World Government.
And the son of Marine hero Monkey D. Garp.
For a long moment, Sengoku only stood there, jaw tight, eyes glinting with a storm of conflicting thoughts. Revealing Dragon's involvement to anyone else would be disastrous—not just for the Marines, but for Garp himself.
"I see…" Sengoku finally murmured, his tone grave. His gaze shifted to Momonga. "Captain Momonga, is that why you left Dragon's name out of your report?"
Momonga bowed his head immediately. "Yes, Admiral Sengoku. I take full responsibility. Dragon is a wanted criminal, while Vice Admiral Darren represents the very ideal of Marine Justice. If word of their cooperation ever spread, the political fallout would be catastrophic. It would taint everything we stand for."
He lowered his head even further. "I concealed the truth of my own accord. Please, Admiral, punish me as you see fit."
Sengoku waved him off. "Enough. You did the right thing."
He turned back to Darren, his voice low but edged with restrained fury. "That said, Darren… I understand your caution, but I cannot approve of your methods."
His voice grew colder. "Secret collaboration with Dragon. Letting him fight alongside the Marines during Edd War. And now, in the North Blue—another joint operation without authorization. Do you realize what would have happened if this had gone wrong? Who would have borne the blame?"
"If you had only informed me beforehand—"
Darren grinned faintly. "If I had, Admiral Sengoku, you would've stopped me immediately."
Sengoku froze mid-sentence. His jaw tightened, but he couldn't argue. Darren was right.
If Sengoku had known about this plan in advance, he'd have shut it down on the spot. Dragon's status made him political poison—any association with him could doom a career. The mere suspicion that Sengoku had allowed or ignored Dragon's presence would have given the World Government an excuse to remove him.
And as that realization settled, Sengoku's frustration twisted into something unexpected—unease.
Could it be that this reckless young man had deliberately kept him in the dark... to protect him?
Even this shrewd old strategist, who prided himself on reading every move in the game, found himself caught off guard by that thought.
Darren sighed softly. "That's precisely why I chose to act alone. I'm sorry, Admiral Sengoku."
"I know better than anyone how dangerous it is to cooperate with Dragon. But when it came to the Golden Lion, I saw no other choice."
He leaned forward, eyes sharp beneath his calm tone. "Golden Lion was a threat the world could no longer afford. We spent years of planning and manpower setting that trap during the Edd War. If we hadn't seized that moment to finish him for good, we might never have another chance."
His grin returned, faint and unflinching. "And if we'd failed? Well, you wouldn't want to wake up one night to find an island crashing down on Marineford, would you?"
Sengoku: …
He said nothing. Because there was nothing to say.
Darren was right again.
The Golden Lion wasn't just dangerous—he was vindictive, methodical, and proud. A wounded beast with a grudge that vast would never rest. If he'd survived, he would have waged a one-man war on the Marines until the end of his days.
"What about Dragon?" Sengoku asked quietly.
Darren smiled. "You don't need to worry, Admiral. He won't cause trouble in the North Blue."
He took another drag of his cigar, his tone turning casual. "But as for Edd War... I imagine quite a few Marines must've seen him in action, right?"
Sengoku nodded slowly. "Yes. I've already issued strict gag orders. No one is to breathe a word about Dragon's involvement."
"The real problem," Sengoku continued with a heavy sigh, "is how to explain that storm."
Darren laughed. "What's there to explain? The weather in the New World is wild, unpredictable—no one questions that. Are we really going to blame Golden Lion for not checking the forecast before setting sail?"
A helpless sound escaped Sengoku's throat—half a sigh, half a groan.
Darren smirked, tapping ash from his cigar. "History, Admiral, is just a cheap courtesan. Dress her however you like—as long as you pay enough."
He straightened slightly, adopting the mock-serious tone of a narrator recounting history:
"In late Sea Circle 1494, the Great Pirate Golden Lion Shiki sought to ally with the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger. When Roger refused, Shiki flew into a rage and launched the infamous Battle of Edd War—a clash that reshaped the seas."
"The Flying Pirates, armed with overwhelming firepower, nearly crushed the Roger Pirates. But then... a violent sea storm struck without warning. The storm obliterated the Flying Fleet, sinking most of their ships. Shiki himself was struck by fate—a ship's wheel piercing his skull."
"Taking advantage of the chaos, the Marine Fleet—ever vigilant, ever righteous—descended upon the battlefield and purged the last of the Flying Pirates in the name of Justice."
"The wounded Golden Lion escaped, only to be hunted down and defeated by Vice Admiral Rogers Darren of Marine Headquarters in the North Blue. Thus ended the reign of the Golden Lion."
Darren leaned back, blowing two thin streams of smoke toward the ceiling, his voice returning to its usual languid humor. "That's how the history books will tell it, Admiral Sengoku."
Sengoku stared speechlessly at the Marine Vice Admiral before him.
That little brat... he just makes it all up as he goes!
To be continued...