Magellan was shaking so hard he could barely stand.
After throwing every last ounce of strength into slamming the massive gate shut, he pressed his back to the wall and stared into the darkness of Eternal Hell, eyes flicking from shadow to shadow.
Something was stirring.
One pair of green eyes, then another, then a dozen—wolfish, hungry—blinked to life behind iron bars. Heavy breathing layered over heavy breathing until it filled the damp corridor like fog.
Magellan's legs quivered. Every hair on his body stood on end.
Darren-sensei… is he serious?
Does he really mean to wipe out everyone in Eternal Hell—alone?
What a joke.
These weren't ordinary criminals. These were monsters.
Even if years of confinement and starvation had dulled their bodies, they were still infamous, blood-drenched fiends who had once made nations tremble.
Even Admiral Sengoku or Vice Admiral Garp couldn't hold off all of this.
The rising tide of killing intent finally cracked Magellan's composure, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.
And yet, when he looked at the black-haired young man ahead of him, a strange, irrational sense of safety rose in his chest.
---
Eternal Hell fell into an eerie, suffocating hush.
It felt like a grave that swallowed sound—and swallowed hearts.
Redfield chuckled.
His bony fingers slowly twirled the blood-red umbrella in his hand, as if coaxing warmth back into something long asleep.
"You've got more guts than that bastard Garp," he said with a faint smile.
Darren shrugged, about to answer—
BOOM!
A heavy iron gate on the left side of the block was kicked clean off its hinges and hurled toward Darren with brute force.
Before it could reach him, the twisted slab split neatly in two. The halves tore past Darren's shoulders and slammed into the wall behind him, biting deep into stone.
Dust and debris showered down.
Through the haze, a hulking figure burst from the cell like a cannonball—thick beard, corded muscle, eyes burning red as he barreled straight for Darren.
"Hahahaha! Enough talk!" he roared. "Everyone hit him at once—crush this arrogant brat—and we'll finally crawl out of this hellhole!"
He threw his head back and laughed, savage and ecstatic. The muscles in his right arm swelled, veins rising like ropes.
"Strength…!"
A visible whirl of force gathered around his fist—raw power compressed into something almost tangible.
"It's 'Super Strength' Saka!"
"He really couldn't hold back!"
"Rumor is the Marines lost thousands trying to take him—over a dozen warships sunk!"
"His strength rivals a Giant's!"
Voices hissed and murmured from behind bars. Every gaze locked onto the giant of a man, unwilling to blink.
A Paramecia user.
The Strength-Strength Fruit.
Unthinkable strength—enough to lift a mountain with one hand, they said.
"Hahahaha! Don't blame me for ambushing you!" Saka bared his teeth. "Let me show you what it means to smash warships with bare hands!"
Tearing apart the Gorosei… killing the Commander of the Knights of God…
Big stories.
Terrifying stories.
But to men like them—veterans of blood and slaughter—only one thing mattered: strength proven in a fight.
The moment the Seastone hit the floor, Saka had moved.
Rogers Darren?
While you were still drinking milk in the North Blue, I was carving my name into the New World!
Strike first. Think later.
"Super-Strengthened… Giant Punch!"
His fist shot forward like a Giant's cannonball, wrapped in Armament Haki. The pressure crushed the air until it shrieked.
BANG!!
The spiraling fist slammed squarely into Darren's cheek.
The impact detonated into a howling gale that snapped Darren's coat and hair back like a whip.
Saka's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Across the cellblock, prisoners stared—wide-eyed, frozen.
The black-haired brat…
He hadn't moved.
Not even an inch.
Darren's cheek gave a faint ripple, like water disturbed by a pebble. He didn't stagger. He didn't shift a foot.
Crack… crackle…
Fissures spiderwebbed across the hardened floor beneath Darren's boots, stone grinding as the ground finally yielded to the force that Darren's body simply refused to acknowledge.
Saka went cold.
The chill crawled up from his feet, shot straight into his skull. His heart hammered painfully against his ribs.
Because Darren frowned—just slightly.
Not in pain.
In annoyance.
The same look he'd wear when a student made a sloppy mistake.
"I know the food in here isn't great," Darren said, voice easy, almost conversational, "but you can't be starving that badly, can you?"
His gaze drifted, settling fully on Saka.
"So this is the Strength-Strength Fruit?"
Something in that calm displeasure made Saka shudder.
"You're asking for it!"
He bared his teeth and forced the fear down by sheer will. With a snarl, he threw another punch.
BANG!
It landed dead center on Darren's chest—an удар that would have shattered a small mountain.
Darren didn't budge.
He didn't dodge. He didn't block.
He simply stood there, as if the blow had never happened.
The prison sank into a heavier silence than before. Even breathing sounded too loud.
A bead of sweat slid down Saka's temple.
The restless hunger that had seized the inmates moments ago… vanished. The air tightened, thick with suppressed instinct.
"Giant strength," Darren said, and then he smiled, faintly, "isn't used like that."
Drip.
The sweat finally fell from Saka's jaw to the floor.
And then he saw it—
A hand.
A powerful hand.
Filling his vision as it rose, expanding with a crushing sense of inevitability.
To be continued...