"Oh? I didn't expect those five old geezers to move so quickly…"
Darren arched a brow and pushed himself up from the broad bed with a faint smile.
The simple motion sent sheets of pain rippling through him. Heat seared along every nerve; his muscles felt hollowed out, and his organs seemed to have shifted out of place, dragging a wince from him despite himself.
He noticed the neat bandages, the smell of disinfectant, the sting of salve along cauterized flesh.
"Relax. No one knows you're here but me," Stussy said, reclining against the headboard with languid grace. She drew on a slender lady's cigarette, exhaled slowly, and let a small smile touch her lips. "I'm no doctor, but CP training includes first aid. Even so, with injuries like that, not even your freakish constitution will bounce back in a day or two."
"Honestly, it's a miracle you're alive at all—after the Gorosei and the Marines' monsters."
Darren nodded, eyes solemn. He let out a slow breath. "They're terrifyingly strong."
Stussy's eyes glinted, amused and cutting. "Only now realizing how close you came to dying? Tsk, tsk. You marched into Marineford alone. Tell me—what kind of woman is worth that?"
"My wife," Darren said, the smile softening. "She's carrying my child."
Stussy went still.
Grinding her teeth, she pressed on. "Even CP0's Zoan-awakened wouldn't withstand this kind of punishment."
It was only after cleaning and dressing him that the full magnitude had hit her: organs battered and displaced; more than forty percent of his skin and flesh torn, ulcerated, or heat-crystallized; the vessels in his feet speckled with ice crystals. Injuries that would finish a dinosaur—let alone a man.
"Yes. The worst I've ever taken." He rubbed his temples, a crease of worry drawing tight across his brow. "At this state… a week, at least, to get back to full."
Stussy said nothing. She kneaded at her breastbone, cigarette poised, her usual elegance dulled by exasperation.
This bastard might be right—but did he have to sound so infuriating?
"You still haven't answered my question," she snapped. "What did you do to make even those arrogant fossils yield?"
"It's simple," he said. "You'll hear it soon—news like this doesn't stay buried. If they want to move on the North Blue, then I'll move on their territory."
"Their territory…" Stussy murmured. Her brows knit—then her eyes flew wide. She stared at the so-called Marine Disgrace as if she'd misheard. "You sent your fleet against the World Government's Member States?"
"A demonstration," Darren said with a shrug. "I'm the world's most wanted man now—the 'most dangerous criminal'—but I'm not a pirate."
"They couldn't afford the gamble. The political pressure was too much."
"No wonder," Stussy breathed. "CP reports say royals in dozens of Member States are already in an uproar, hammering the Government for answers. With Morgans amplifying it, your fleet won't stay secret. People are already saying you've got 'weapons of mass destruction.'"
"Under that kind of pressure, even the Gorosei had to step back. But Darren—knowing them, they won't let you walk away."
Darren laughed, careless. "Who said I'll let them?"
Stussy blinked.
"You said I've won," he went on, "but I haven't. Not yet."
"Did you reach that bird Morgans?"
"I did," she said. "He has conditions."
"What are they?"
"He insists on choosing the time and place."
"Reasonable," Darren said, eyes narrowing in approval. "In times like these, trust is expensive."
Stussy studied his face, skepticism sharpening her gaze. "Morgans' loyalties are murky. You sure you want to meet?"
"Of course. I need his channels." He leaned back, smoke curling from his lips. "I've been quiet too long—from Felsek to now. The board's a tangle. One day I'm a rising Marine hero, the next I'm the world's biggest criminal. Do you know how that itches under the skin?"
Stussy rolled her eyes. "Your halo was never that bright. No one mistook you for a saint."
"How many times do I have to say it?" Darren sighed with theatrical despair. "I may be greedy, lustful, and power-hungry—but I'm a damned good Marine."
He nodded toward the newspaper beside him, the five-billion-berry poster glaring back.
"The Government made their move. Now it's my turn."
He blew a dragon's plume of smoke and laughed, unrestrained.
"The world can wait for my answer."
---
At the same time, in the New World…
After hell's own storm, a sun-washed island emerged.
The Roger Pirates stood in ancient jungle. Gold light poured down, draping them in a shimmering haze.
They stared, stunned into silence.
"So this is Joy Boy's 'greatest treasure'…" Rayleigh sank to the ground with a wry smile and a helpless shake of the head. "Roger…"
He turned to offer comfort—then froze.
Under the crew's bewildered eyes, their captain, the strongest, freest man to sail the Grand Line, threw back his head and laughed until tears shone at the corners of his eyes.
"Hahahaha!"
"We came too early… Joy Boy, I wish we could have lived in the same era!"
On this day, the legendary pirate Gol D. Roger reached the end of the Grand Line—and named the island:
—Laugh Tale.
To be continued...