"Am I any less dangerous?"
Darren's question—delivered with a smirk that wasn't quite a smile—struck Sengoku silent. He opened his mouth to snap back, only to find no words coming.
There was no refuting it.
If we're talking danger, who on this sea is more dangerous than you, you little bastard?
Not even Red the Aloof, let alone Roger, Whitebeard, or the Golden Lion at his peak, would stroll into Marineford like this, sit in my office, and threaten me to my face.
But…
"There's no comparison!" Sengoku slammed his fist onto the desk, the sound like a cannon. "Redfield is a pirate! If we release him, no one can guarantee what he'll do!"
Darren shrugged. "I'm one of the world's most wanted criminals right now."
Sengoku's expression stiffened, jaw tightening.
You're different.
Even with anger boiling in his chest, Sengoku could see through Darren's performance. Darren would never destroy Marineford. That was the difference between him and true pirates.
At his core, Darren wasn't some born villain who chose evil for sport. He was a young man pushed to the edge, fighting back tooth and nail. Sengoku understood that better than anyone.
Darren took a slow drag and smiled. "Relax, Admiral Sengoku. I'm not planning to let that red bat out of Impel Down."
Sengoku frowned. "Then what do you want?"
Darren didn't answer. He just looked at him—calm, amused, as if he'd already decided the outcome.
Sengoku's eyes widened, suspicion turning into disbelief.
"You little… Don't tell me…"
"Yes." Darren's grin sharpened. "I want to stay in Impel Down for a while."
Sengoku blinked.
"You understand," Darren went on, breezy as ever, "ever since I joined the Marines, I've been shoved into frontline units. I never got the chance to serve at Impel Down."
He sighed with theatrical regret. "One of the greatest regrets of my life."
Sengoku's mouth twitched. "So you want to go to prison voluntarily."
Darren spread his arms and laughed. "What's wrong with prison? It's one of the best options for young people these days! What else are they supposed to do?"
"Become pirates? With Zephyr-sensei sweeping the New World like a storm, that's a terrible career choice right now."
"Join the Marines? You're so broke you can barely pay salaries."
Sengoku: "..."
Darren leaned back, looking almost wistful. "Honestly, Impel Down sounds wonderful. Quiet. Not crowded. Four seasons. And aside from Starvation Hell, you've even got specialists handling three meals a day."
He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Also, I've heard a lot of the female guards are pretty—and they enjoy some… interesting role-play."
Sengoku: "..."
"What. Exactly. Do. You. Want?!"
Sengoku's eyes were bloodshot as he roared each word, like Darren was personally grinding his sanity into dust.
Darren glanced at Sengoku's clenched fist—already trembling—and decided he'd teased the old man far enough.
"Fine. It's simple." Darren raised three fingers, smiling like he was listing errands. "First, I'll be living in Impel Down for a short while. I'll slip in within the next day or two—while the World Government and most of Marine Headquarters' heavy hitters are busy escorting foreign representatives."
"Second, I don't want to be disturbed. I'd like you to arrange that."
"Third, while I'm there, Level Six—Eternal Hell—might get a little… lively. I'd like you to help cover my tracks."
With each demand, Sengoku's face darkened another shade.
He forced his breathing to steady and asked in a hoarse voice, "So you want me to arrange your imprisonment in Impel Down."
"Yes."
"And keep it secret from the World Government."
"Exactly."
"And ideally give you free rein to stir up chaos on Level Six."
"That would be ideal."
Sengoku exploded. He slammed his fist down, surged to his feet, and seized Darren by the collar. His eyes blazed as spittle flew.
"Are you out of your mind?!"
"Who do you think you are?!"
"And who do you think I am?!"
Darren calmly wiped his face, smiling as if he'd been splashed by rain.
"Don't get so worked up, Admiral Sengoku. I'm not unreasonable."
"I don't want to hear it!" Sengoku snarled, drawing his fist back to smash Darren's face.
"I can provide Marine Headquarters with a substantial military aid fund."
Sengoku froze.
His fist hovered a hair's breadth from Darren's nose. The wind from the halted punch whipped Darren's black hair across his eyes.
Darren's smile never wavered.
"This is a disruptive plan," he said mildly. "I'm willing to offer compensation. As for the amount… name your price."
Sengoku's face twisted, caught between fury and something dangerously close to temptation. "Do you think I'm some greedy old man?"
"Of course not," Darren said smoothly. "Your integrity is beyond question. Money couldn't possibly corrupt you. And I'd never insult you by testing you with something so vulgar."
He lifted a finger.
A thin arc of electricity snapped and hissed in the air.
"However…"
His gaze brightened, a sharp edge beneath the warmth.
"It seems you don't have a choice. And besides…"
"I only need a month."
Sengoku's eyes narrowed.
Then he roared, "So if I refuse, you'll destroy Marineford—maybe even have the North Blue Fleet bomb it?"
Darren chuckled, perfectly willing to wear the villain's mask. "That's right."
"Therefore, Admiral Sengoku—name your price."
Sengoku's face twitched. He bit his lip hard.
"Two billion berries," he spat. "You have ten days."
Darren nodded at once. "No problem."
Sengoku froze, then snapped, "No! I want two-point-five billion!"
"Agreed," Darren said without hesitation.
Sengoku's eyes reddened further, almost feral. "Three billion!"
"No problem."
Sengoku stared at him, dumbfounded. "???"
---
Five minutes later.
Darren was already gone.
Staff Officer Tsuru pushed the door open and stepped into the Admiral's Office. Her lips twitched when she saw Sengoku lounging with his feet on the desk, looking almost relaxed.
"So," she asked quietly, "you agreed."
Sengoku barked, irritated. "Weren't you listening the whole time?"
Tsuru sighed. "This isn't a wise decision."
Sengoku was silent for a beat, then shook his head. "That brat Darren is too clever. He gave this old man just enough room to save face."
"Deep down, we both know he'd never attack Marineford, right?"
He grinned suddenly, shameless and almost boyish. "Besides… what choice did this old man have? He threatened me with the whole island."
Tsuru rolled her eyes.
The so-called threat was just an excuse—Sengoku's way of justifying what was really happening: tacitly giving Darren a free pass into Impel Down.
As for the "aid fund," that was simply an unexpected bonus.
With Darren's current strength—enough to kill the Commander of the Knights of God—no one could truly stop him from entering Impel Down if he wanted to.
Marine Headquarters' top fighters weren't going to stand guard over the Great Prison forever.
Darren had come today to say hello, and to keep things from getting messy.
Still…
"What does Darren want with Red the Aloof in Impel Down?" Tsuru asked, eyes narrowing as she looked at Sengoku.
Sengoku let out a bitter chuckle. "What else? Probably another round of 'advanced studies.'"
He rubbed his temples and sighed heavily.
Fine.
Let the trash in Impel Down worry for once.
This old man has enough headaches already.
With that thought, Sengoku's mood actually lightened.
To be continued...