A majestic crimson sword beam—like a crescent moon carved out of blood—swept through Eternal Hell.
The shockwave spiraled outward, a violent tempest that flung dozens of nearby criminals like scrap.
Tch!
The blood-red arc swallowed Darren whole, surging on for another hundred meters before its power finally bled away into glittering fragments.
For a heartbeat, the entire cellblock froze and sucked in a collective breath.
A deep trench had been carved across the stone where the blade had passed.
And at the far end of that gash, the black-haired youth remained in a forward-leaning stance, his three-fingered Dragon Claw hissing with white steam.
His upper body was bare. What remained of his clothes hung in shredded strips around his waist, exposing hard-cut muscle—and a shallow, bloody slash across his chest.
"H-he broke through!"
"That sword… it finally cut him!"
The criminals stared at the blood, stunned—then erupted into rabid, relieved cheers.
So he wasn't invincible. Their attacks were just too weak to matter.
Yet Red the Aloof—crimson umbrella in hand—didn't share their joy.
His brow knit.
Something's off.
He knew exactly what his blade could do.
At this range, laced with Armament Haki… how could it leave only a wound like that?
Drip.
Blood slid down Darren's chest—and a manic grin spread across his face.
"Sharp," he murmured. "If only it had a bit more weight…"
A gust of air cut him off.
In the blink of an eye, Redfield vanished—then reappeared right in front of Darren.
Darren's pupils tightened.
This speed was nothing like Kake's. It was colder, stranger—like a shadow slipping through your blind spot. Darren's nerves barely had time to catch up.
No problem.
Redfield's umbrella fell again, cleaving down without flourish.
Zzzzzzt—
Black lightning crackled along the canopy, dragging a clean, lethal streak of light.
Sshhk!
A spray of blood burst from Darren's chest, crimson droplets spattering the air. Magellan's face went white.
Darren stumbled back several steps, arms hanging loose, eyes unfocused—like his mind couldn't quite accept what had just happened.
"I'll admit it, boy," Redfield said, gaze steady on the motionless Darren. "You've tempered your body to a degree beyond my understanding."
"An iron body. Strength that rivals the Giant Race. Explosive power and reflexes like thunder. Brutal, domineering martial arts."
"On this sea, there are very few who could match you head-on."
He tilted his head slightly.
"But you've forgotten one thing."
"True strength isn't piling abilities on top of each other. It's weaving them together into what suits you—and applying them with precision."
"Devil Fruits. Haki. Martial arts. Swordsmanship… all of it is just a tool."
He raised the umbrella, voice low, almost calm.
"The power that commands the tools… is the strength of the heart."
With that, Redfield shook his head, flicked the blood from his umbrella, and turned toward his cell.
"Go back. You're Zephyr's and Garp's student. For their sake… I'll spare you this time."
"As for Impel Down… I'll escape. But not today."
The prisoners parted instinctively to let him pass.
But as they moved, their eyes kept drifting—nervously, greedily—toward the gate to the fifth level.
"...You forgot something too, old man."
A low voice rolled through the hall.
Redfield stopped.
"Oh?"
A predatory smile tugged at his lips as he looked back.
Darren lifted his head. He tore the rags of his shirt the rest of the way off, exposing a scar-latticed torso crisscrossed with fresh wounds. He wiped the blood from his chest, then licked it from his palm, eyes burning with feral joy.
"If my strength isn't enough…"
His grin widened.
"…maybe it's simply because what I've piled up still isn't enough."
Redfield froze. A crimson glint flashed deep in his eyes, his expression shifting as if he'd glimpsed something that shouldn't exist.
Then—
ZZZZZT!
Savage lightning—blue, violent, almost flame-like—wrapped around Darren and erupted outward in a roaring surge.
A shockwave blasted through Eternal Hell. The criminals stood rooted, terrified, as a faint crimson glow began to rise within Darren's muscles.
"Magnetic Field Rotation: Low Frequency—10%!"
His knees dipped. Hot breath hissed from his mouth. He leaned forward—predator-ready.
Then—
BOOM!
Darren launched like a rocket.
No fancy movement. No tricks. No flourish.
Just raw, primal physical force driven to the absolute limit.
ROAR!
The air screamed through the tunnels.
The criminals couldn't even see him—only felt something rip past as hurricane winds tore at their faces.
Redfield's expression finally cracked.
The polished, effortless smile he'd worn from the beginning shattered.
"How…?"
The crimson light of his Observation Haki flared and stuttered wildly.
In an instant, dozens of futures slammed into his mind—Darren's punch descending like a meteor from angles that shouldn't be possible.
So that means—
Cold sweat surfaced on Redfield's brow. Teeth clenched, he snapped around and slashed into the void at the exact instant the future-glow surged to its peak.
CLANG!
BOOM!!
Sparks exploded as the shockwave detonated.
With a shriek of impact, Darren's punch drove Redfield backward over a hundred meters, carving twin gouges through the ground.
Redfield ignored the damage.
His eyes were locked on the face now inches away, his breath catching.
"Your speed… it surpasses the future itself?!"
"No," Darren said, grinning. "It just surpasses the future you can see."
His eyes gleamed.
"Now then… show me this 'power of the heart' you're so proud of."
To be continued...