For a heartbeat, the ravine fell dead silent.
Then, like dry tinder catching a spark, it exploded.
"Did you hear that?"
"That bastard!"
"I've never seen anyone so arrogant!"
"Everyone, hit him together!"
"We'll beat him senseless!"
…
Faces flushed red, every former Marine officer glared at the laughing black-haired youth. They drew their service blades and surged forward as one.
Dalmatian moved first.
With a single leap he shot upward, his body stretching and warping midair into his Dalmatian Hybrid Form.
Zoan-fueled speed layered over the Rokushiki technique Soru—he vanished, then reappeared in front of Darren in the blink of an eye.
"Don't think you're the only one who's gotten stronger, Darren!" Dalmatian roared.
His claws, wrapped in dense Armament Haki, slashed straight toward Darren's chest.
"None of us have ever slacked off!"
A flicker of amusement flashed through Darren's eyes.
He raised his arm.
Steel-splitting claws raked down, the air tearing with a harsh rip as sparks burst from the impact.
Dalmatian felt as if he'd slashed into indestructible diamond. Pain lanced through his nails and fingers, as though his own bones were about to shatter.
By contrast, Darren's casually raised forearm bore only a few pale claw marks—no blood, no torn skin, not even a bruise.
…Monster.
Dalmatian's pupils shrank. Seeing was one thing; feeling it was another entirely.
He'd long known Darren's body was inhuman. But actually clashing with him like this was beyond anything he'd imagined.
"Dalmatian, your focus wavered. You hesitated at the moment of impact," Darren's voice boomed at his ear like thunder.
"When you attack, you need sharper focus. Haki is the strength of the spirit."
Dalmatian shuddered, as if something had clicked into place.
Before the realization could settle—
Darren's military boot slammed into his abdomen like a rocket-propelled shell.
Bang!
"I—"
Dalmatian folded around the kick, eyes bulging. His stomach churned so violently he nearly vomited up last night's beer on the spot.
"Watch closely. This is the secondary burst of Armament Haki," Darren said lightly.
Bang!
An invisible blast detonated from his boot.
Dalmatian's uniform exploded across his back as a white shockwave bloomed outward. His body fired away like a cannonball, plowing through over a dozen towering trees before slamming into the ground.
Boom!
Dust and splintered trunks billowed skyward.
The others flinched as one, cold sweat breaking out along their spines.
"Don't worry," Darren said, turning back to them. His tone had gone cold. "I held back."
From his vantage on the rise, he looked down over them.
"But the sea doesn't. Your next enemies won't either."
"You're no longer Marines. There are no more Headquarters warships or batteries of cannons behind you. When you're staring down an impossible fight, there won't be reinforcements on the way."
"In the end, the only people you can rely on… are yourselves."
Silence followed.
Then, one by one, a hard light ignited in their eyes.
Their sword hands stopped shaking. A deep breath passed through the group like a wave—and then they charged again.
Knife arcs flashed, bullets snapped through the air, Rokushiki techniques hammered at Darren from every angle. They advanced and retreated in tight rhythm, covering each other's openings, gradually forcing Darren to take them seriously.
These officers, forged in the Marine Academy and hardened on countless battlefields, now faced the strongest opponent of their lives. The more pressure Darren put on them, the more dazzling their unit coordination became.
As time dragged on, their teamwork grew sharper still. Dalmatian and Yamakaji staggered back into the fray.
A dozen—nearly twenty—former Headquarters elites threw themselves at the black-haired youth who seemed like a demon god, desperate to find even the smallest crack in his defenses.
Or at least… to steal a glimpse of the summit he stood upon.
Darren's eyes slowly curved with a faint smile.
Not everyone was born to reach Admiral-level power.
For the overwhelming majority on these seas, the highest they could reasonably hope to climb was Headquarters Commodore or Rear Admiral.
Headquarters Vice Admiral—already a lofty peak, a distant legend for countless soldiers.
From that height, it was all too easy to look down and see anyone below Admiral-level as ants.
But in truth, it was the constant, grinding effort of these very officers that held together most of the world's safety and order.
For people like them, Darren was willing—just this once—to suppress the urge to demolish every opponent in his path, and instead spend his time trading blows, guiding, correcting.
"Shuzo, your Rokushiki foundations are excellent. From now on, put all that technique into actual killing power!"
"Yamakaji, I'm no swordsman, but you're hesitating every time you swing. Cut that out!"
"..."
Darren barked out corrections between dodges and counters, forcing openings on purpose, shaping attacks so they could feel the right response in their bodies.
"Hahahaha! I see a weak spot!"
A shadow flickered behind him.
Tokikake exploded into view and drove a vicious kick toward Darren's waist.
Bang!
A hand clamped around his ankle mid-kick.
"Tokikake, you don't think at all," Darren said flatly. "You just charge in and swing because you assume you're strong enough to brute-force it."
Tokikake's face turned bright red. "That's because I am strong enough!" he snapped.
Darren shifted back a half-step, letting Yamakaji's flaming blade carve past his chest, and shook his head. "Is that so?"
"Damn it! Don't you dare look down on me!"
Tokikake's fist, wrapped in dense Haki, came crashing down with such force the air screamed and rippled around it.
Bang!
Darren raised his hand.
His Three-Fingered Dragon Claw caught the punch dead-on.
His brows rose.
This weight…
This isn't normal.
"Heheheh… you noticed, huh?" Tokikake chuckled.
"You ready, Darren?"
"Let me show you my ultimate power…"
As his voice faded, a brutal, ancient aura surged out of him.
His body began to twist and swell.
Dense black bristles erupted across his skin, each hair like a steel needle glinting coldly in the light.
His frame expanded, bones creaking as he grew taller and more massive. His jaw jutted forward, fangs pushing past his lips, hot, foul breath gusting from between them.
Rope-like muscles bulged and writhed beneath the fur, radiating terrible primal strength.
A Zoan-type Devil Fruit. An Ancient Zoan—Entelodont Form.
Boom!
Tokikake's hoof slammed into the ground. The earth beneath him crumbled into a spiderweb of cracks.
"Hahahaha! Ugly as hell, I know—but this is my strongest form!"
In his hybrid state he looked like some prehistoric monster hauled back from extinction. He threw back his head and unleashed a roar that shook the sky.
The sound wave blasted outward, bending the surrounding trees like reeds in a storm. The Marine officers' expressions shifted.
"With an Ancient Zoan's power, this is a guaranteed win! Prepare to get flattened, you bastard! Hahahaha!" Tokikake bellowed, his thick arms flexing as cords of muscle stood out beneath the bristles.
"Now get off me already!"
ROAR!
The ground shook, winds howled. Yamakaji and the others retreated instinctively, faces blanching as they watched the scene unfold.
Then their expressions… slowly turned odd.
"..."
Ten seconds later, Tokikake's jaw shut with a snap.
No matter how wildly he thrashed, he couldn't break free. The Three-Fingered Dragon Claw gripping his fist was as unyielding as iron chains.
Darren stood calmly in front of him, watching the beast's performance with cool detachment.
Tokikake: "..."
Under Darren's ambiguous, almost playful stare, he forced a stiff, ingratiating smile onto his beast-like face.
"Uh… take it easy?"
Before he could even finish the plea—
As Yamakaji and the others watched with twitching faces—
The black-haired youth shifted his stance, caught the saber-toothed boar's arm with both hands, and with a smooth twist of his hips swung the massive beast down like a warhammer, slamming it into the earth.
BOOM!
The ground burst apart in an explosion of dirt and stone.
Once.
He spun.
BOOM!
Twice.
BOOM!
Three times.
The once-rampaging ancient monster was used like a rag-doll mace, pounded into the jungle floor again and again.
The onlookers froze in place, eyes wide, not daring to make a sound.
Cold sweat streamed down their backs.
To be continued...