Silence.
Absolute, deathly silence.
The prisoners of Eternal Hell shuddered as they stared at Saka and Kake—both of them wedged deep into the wall, soaked in blood, limp and unconscious.
They weren't friends. They weren't even particularly familiar. But after years of being caged on the sixth level, trading insults and threats through iron bars, everyone knew what everyone was capable of.
"Super Strength" Saka and "Ghost Shadow" Kake were monsters. With their Devil Fruits, they might not have reached the realm of a legend like "Red the Aloof" Redfield, but in Eternal Hell they were still near the top.
Outside, either of them could erase a small nation.
Here—both of them had been crushed.
Not beaten. Crushed. Like insects.
And the most terrifying part was how it happened.
They'd been humiliated in the very things they lived and died by. Strength. Speed. Their pride, their identities—snapped in half.
A shock rolled through the cellblock and down into bone. Souls trembled with it.
Darren stood there with a cigarette between his lips, the posture casual, the expression almost bored, like he'd just finished stretching.
The inmates swallowed hard.
One second.
Two.
Then—
"Damn it! What are you all staring at?! He's just one guy! If we rush him together, we can take him down!"
A bald criminal finally cracked. He ground his teeth and roared, charging first.
Darren's eyes flicked to him.
When fear hits, most people run.
A rare few lunge.
Eternal Hell's residents were filth—irredeemable, blood-soaked scum—but even Darren had to admit: there was a kind of brutal clarity to them. A kind of nerve.
The bald man's shout jolted the others awake.
That's right.
No matter how strong this brat is, he's still one person.
And they were hundreds.
Bodies to throw at him. Teeth to grind him down with. A wave to drown him under.
Kill him, and freedom is theirs.
And with Impel Down's depleted manpower, a breakout on this scale would be impossible to contain.
"Kill him!"
"Freedom's right there!"
"Ha ha ha! Twist his head off!"
"Even Garp wouldn't dare stand here alone and run his mouth at all of us!"
"CHARGE!!"
Howls erupted from every direction. Bloodlust surged like a tide.
In the swirling mist and darkness, warped faces rushed in.
Darren's grin only widened—wilder, looser, almost delighted.
"Alright," he said lightly. "Come on."
He stepped in.
The bald man's side kick sliced through the air—Darren slipped it by a hair, answering with a kick of his own.
BOOM!
The air detonated. The man's chest collapsed before he even understood Darren had moved. Blood burst from his mouth as he flew backward like a cannonball.
The front line staggered—stunned, instinct screaming.
Only now, this close, did they finally understand what Saka and Kake had faced.
This wasn't a human being.
Before they could recover, Darren threw himself into them with a savage smile.
A tiger in a pen full of sheep.
He moved with ruthless precision and obscene speed.
Dragon Claw Fist. Fist Bone Fist. Rokushiki at a level that didn't belong on the same sea as them.
And with Thunder Armor driving his nerves past their limits, with Giant's Body lending his strikes a brutal, inhuman weight—every technique became a disaster.
Most of these so-called "world-class" criminals couldn't even see the hit coming. They were simply launched—bones snapping, bodies folding, blood spraying into the dark.
What broke them wasn't just the pain or the terror.
It was this:
Darren didn't even bother to dodge.
Blades and fists and Haki slammed into him, and it meant nothing.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't blink.
"As hard as diamond—!"
"How?!"
"Even my Armament Haki can't get through his skin!"
"Monster… he's a monster!"
And then their vision went black as they were sent flying.
In an instant, screams filled Eternal Hell, scraping through the dark like knives.
"Stay away from me!"
"Aaaaaaah!!"
"Monster! You damn monster!"
"D-don't hit me—!"
Nearby, Magellan stared as bodies sailed through the air like broken dolls—some embedded in walls, some crumpled into iron bars, some half-buried in the floor. His jaw twitched uncontrollably.
He'd never imagined it would turn into this.
Too strong.
Against this swarm, Darren didn't waste energy dodging. He did the opposite—he went straight through them, saving stamina by refusing to move out of the way at all.
Then—
A crimson streak cut through the void, aimed straight at Darren with murderous speed.
CLANG!
BOOM!!
The floor beneath Darren sank nearly half a meter. Rubble blasted outward.
Darren didn't move.
Sparks scattered, lighting his face for a heartbeat—arrogant, calm, and streaked with a thin line of blood.
His three-fingered Dragon Claw—black energy crackling—was locked against a blood-red umbrella.
The collision of their Haki rolled out in rings, flinging every criminal within ten meters away like trash in a storm.
"I thought you'd keep watching until I knocked them all flat," Darren said, licking his dry lips, eyes burning with hunger.
Redfield held the umbrella one-handed and smiled faintly. "I was simply waiting for you to finish warming up."
Darren paused—then laughed.
"They say Kong fought you for days and nights to arrest you. If Garp hadn't shown up, you might've beaten him. Is that true?"
Redfield's smile turned elegant, almost pleased.
"Why don't you try and find out for yourself?"
The blood-red umbrella swept down.
A crimson blade of force tore upward—straight toward the heavens.
To be continued...