The sun was setting—its glow draping the camp in hues of gold.
On the training ground—
With a loud thud, Darren crashed to the ground, gasping for breath, his face black and blue, bruises and cuts marking every inch of his battered body.
"Hehehehe… Don't blame me, Darren. This was Zephyr-sensei's order, remember? We're earning credit points here…"
Tokikake strolled over smugly, putting on a fake face of regret, grinning like a weasel.
In his heart, a tiny version of himself was rolling on the floor in a laughing fit.
So damn satisfying!!
That bastard Darren used to put him through hell under the name of "special training"—especially back in the North Blue.
But now… justice was served.
When his fist smashed into Darren's face, the thrill, the pleasure—it was beyond words.
Better than ten nights in the red-light district with the top courtesan!
Darren rolled his eyes. He didn't even have the strength to argue.
"Sorry, Darren…"
Yamakaji scratched his head sheepishly as he approached.
One after another, the others came to offer their "apologies."
Darren waved them off weakly, looking utterly defeated.
Eventually, the crowd dispersed.
Darren lay alone on the training ground in a big star-shaped sprawl, arms and legs flung wide, motionless.
"How's it going, Darren kid?"
Zephyr's silhouette, framed against the dusk light, appeared above him, sunglasses flashing.
Maybe it was just his imagination, but Darren thought Zephyr's grin had a touch of sadism.
"Any progress with your Observation Haki?"
Darren exhaled slowly, lips twisting.
"I think… I'm starting to get a feel. Sometimes, I can barely catch their movements—even in blind spots."
Zephyr nodded with a smile.
"Now you understand the method to my madness, don't you?"
That said, Zephyr was still deeply impressed.
A whole hour of being ganged up on—even if the others weren't using full force—was no joke. Especially for a Devil Fruit user shackled with Seastone cuffs.
Yet Darren had relied purely on brute endurance and combat instinct to stay on his feet. He even managed to kick Tokikake a few times in return.
At this point, "monster" didn't even cut it.
His battle sense had far outstripped anyone his age.
Still, considering the opponents Darren had fought before, Zephyr wasn't surprised for long.
"What I admire most, Darren," Zephyr crouched down, "is how you stay calm in combat. That's rare."
"Observation Haki is tied to the mind. You need clarity, calm. In moments of emotional extremes, when you lose yourself… it fails."
"At the rate you're going, you'll awaken it soon."
Darren nodded silently.
He'd relied too long on his defense and magnetic field sensing. His body had no urgency to develop true Haki.
Even if he got hit—it wasn't life-threatening.
But Haki? Haki was willpower.
Charlotte Katakuri had unlocked future sight through sheer obsession—a refusal to make a single mistake. That level of drive turned into strength.
"So, Zephyr-sensei… can you take off the Seastone cuffs now?"
Darren breathed out.
"No."
Zephyr smiled and shook his head.
"Not until your Observation Haki awakens."
"You have to learn to fight without the Magnet-Magnet Fruit's sensing. That's the only way to truly adapt."
"So bear with it, Darren kid."
"Consider it resistance training."
…So that's how it is.
Darren looked down at the heavy shackles on his wrists.
Zephyr patted him on the shoulder.
"Go home and rest."
"Eat well. You'll need the strength. There'll be more sessions like today."
He winked.
Darren: "…"
You sure this isn't personal, Sensei?
Seeing that twisted smile, Darren silently grumbled.
...
Dragging his weary body under the dusk sky, Darren headed toward the residential quarters.
His uniform was ruined—hanging off him like shredded rags. His body was bruised, his wrists chained. The world-renowned "King of the North Blue" looked like a disgraced prisoner.
He turned down a narrow alley—and stopped.
There stood Gion. Tall, still, her gaze calm as it met his.
"How… are you feeling?"
She asked softly, eyes darting away in embarrassment.
"You were the one who hit hardest…" Darren muttered.
A flush colored Gion's cheeks. She stepped closer, pulled out ointment, and gently dabbed it on his wounds.
"If I'd held back… someone might've noticed."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Her slender fingers traced over his chest, feather-light. Ticklish.
Darren sighed.
He understood.
Girls cared about appearances.
Especially someone like Gion—the Marine's "Flower."
If people found out she was with a guy like him… scandal.
A proper lady in love with a so-called "blond punk." He didn't care—but Gion was young. Too young to handle the storm of rumors.
He almost laughed.
Everyone curses the punk.
But deep down, they all want to be the punk.
"Does it hurt…?"
Darren didn't answer. He just pointed at his cheek.
Gion blushed harder, leaned in and gave him a quick peck—then ran off with her high ponytail flying.
Just a small moment—but Darren's mood lifted.
Humming a tune, he headed home.
When he stepped inside, a hot meal was already laid out.
"Toki, I'm back."
Darren smiled.
In her pink kimono, Toki turned around. Her eyes lit up as she saw him, smile blooming like spring.
"Dear, welcome home."
Her gaze fell on the Seastone cuffs.
"Eh? What's this…?"
Darren couldn't be bothered to explain.
"Oh, just a prop. Nothing serious."
"A prop…"
Toki murmured, her cheeks reddening as her thoughts wandered. Her fingers twirled nervously.
"So… does Dear want me to… tie you up?"
Darren: ...
What the hell are you thinking…
Then again… not the worst idea.
---
To be continued…