Clang… clang…
Cold metal scraped and collided in the dark, empty corridor as Darren stepped forward, arms half-raised like a beast about to pounce. The Seastone shackles rattled as he lunged with a tiger's ferocity.
Crack!
The stone tiles groaned beneath his foot. Fragments flew.
The prisoners stumbling back sucked in a collective breath.
One stomp—just one—and the floor had shattered cleanly, a distinct footprint stamped into the fractured stone.
If they hadn't seen it themselves, they would've sworn it was impossible.
Especially with Seastone shackles on his wrists.
Impel Down's high-purity Seastone was supposed to leave Devil Fruit users limp, barely able to stand. Even notorious pirates from the New World became hollowed-out shells under its suppression.
And yet this monster still carried power like a storm.
Before anyone could fully process it, a dazzling gold light cut through the pitch-black corridor.
In a blink, countless photons streaked past—and a sword of light carved down with explosive speed.
So fast—
The prisoners' pupils shrank. Cold sweat broke across their backs. A dead numbness crawled over their scalps as they realized: if that strike had been meant for them, they'd already be corpses.
Then—
Clang!
The chain linking Darren's shackles snapped upward, catching the light-blade mid-swing. Sparks erupted, lighting two faces—both wearing the same sharp, sardonic grin.
Darren and Borsalino stood nose to nose, the Ame no Murakumo less than two centimeters from Darren's forehead.
"You're really on the verge of seeing the future now, Darren," Borsalino said, his smile deepening. In the reflection of his sunglasses, Darren's battle-lust burned like a star.
"I might not have your absurd talent," Darren growled, his bare upper body swelling as muscle tightened like drawn steel, "but don't forget—I'm one of the 'monsters' too… Borsalino!!"
Veins stood out like writhing cords. With a brutal stomp, Darren fed the recoil through his core and drove both arms forward at once.
Whoosh!
The light-sword jolted up. Borsalino's brows lifted the slightest bit.
"And one more thing," Darren snarled, grin splitting wide. "Don't lean too hard on your Devil Fruit."
His right hand shifted into a Three-Fingered Dragon Claw, loaded with crushing force, and raked toward Borsalino's face.
At the same time, his Seastone shackles clattered violently, their dark sheen flashing in the dim lamplight.
This is—
Magellan's pupils pinched to needles, his heart slamming against his ribs.
The Dragon Claw was bait. The real strike was the shackles—meant to catch Borsalino.
"You're not that annoying old man Zephyr-sensei, you know," Borsalino teased.
His body dispersed into photons.
He slipped past the Dragon Claw—and dodged the shackles' grasp.
Missed.
Disappointment flickered across Magellan's face. The prisoners watching, too, couldn't help it.
The timing and angle had been perfect… but Darren was shackled. Seastone didn't just seal his Devil Fruit—it smothered him. Strength, speed, reflexes… all dragged down, nowhere near his peak.
"You'd better watch yourself now," Borsalino's voice chimed, playful. "I've gotten even faster."
He reformed behind Darren in an instant. Using Darren's forward momentum, Borsalino's right leg—white leather shoe cutting an arc through the air—whipped up, dragging a golden trail, then drove into Darren's back with violent force.
In that instant, an eerie crimson glimmer flared deep in Darren's eyes.
He gritted his teeth. As his body pitched forward, he slammed his left hand to the ground and shoved off, wrenching himself around with explosive strength.
Clang!!
A shriek of metal tore through the corridor. Sparks flew as the chain between his shackles snapped in midair—split clean into two halves.
That lightspeed kick—its heat and penetrating force—had destroyed the chain outright.
Thump-thump-thump!
The shock tore through Darren's palms. White-hot pain lanced up his wrists. His body was blasted backward, thrown off balance and sent flying.
He hadn't even finished landing before a surge of danger hammered into him. His pupils shrank to pinpoints.
There—nearby—Borsalino stood with his right index finger raised again, smiling with a light, almost lazy amusement that made Darren's skin crawl.
This one…
He's not playing.
The thought iced Darren in place for a fraction of a second.
He could feel it—Borsalino's killing intent.
That damned yellow-skinned monkey…
Is he really going to kill me?
"Sayonara, Darren," Borsalino murmured, grin turning sharp.
Only then did Magellan and the prisoners fully register the change. Their faces drained, dread spreading like poison.
Even Redfield narrowed his eyes, a crimson glint flashing.
The next instant—
Biu-biu-biu!
Three thin beams of gold ripped through the corridor, screaming straight toward Darren.
The light closed in with ruthless certainty… and yet, strangely, Darren's racing heart began to slow.
And then—at the very brink—he did something that stunned everyone watching.
He closed his eyes.
Time locked.
Until a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Then—
With terrifying precision, he tilted his head left, right, left—three sharp motions in rapid succession.
Three laser beams, strong enough to pierce steel and stone, grazed his skin and punched into the corridor behind him.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Deep impacts rolled one after another as black smoke belched out, flames flickering in the dark.
In that wavering firelight, the black-haired youth opened his eyes. A faint smile lingered on his lips, and deep in his gaze, a blood-red glint flickered like a phantom.
Under a hundred stunned stares, Darren bared his teeth in a grin.
"Trying to use this chance to finish me off, Borsalino?"
To be continued...