North Blue, Batiya Island.
A private estate.
"This way, please. Captain Darren is waiting for you in the parlor."
Momonga gestured politely as he led the arriving CP0 agent through the ornate gates.
The estate was vast—spanning over 2,000 square meters. Within its walls were rock gardens, fountains, a training field, and even a private forest path. Everything one might expect from a luxury manor was present.
As they passed through the lush greenery of the garden, Momonga's gloved hands began to sweat beneath the leather.
CP0 had come personally—by name, even—requesting a private meeting with Darren.
Had the government found something out?
Momonga forced himself to remain calm, subconsciously speeding up his pace. Soon, they arrived at the parlor doors.
"Captain Darren," he announced, saluting.
Inside, Darren sat with one leg crossed over the other, leisurely smoking a cigar. With a bright smile, he rose to greet his guest.
"A distinguished guest arrives, and I failed to welcome you personally. Forgive me."
The mask hid the CP0 agent's expression, but the voice that came through was cold and flat.
"Captain Darren. I come on behalf of one of the highest powers in the World Government… Saint Topman Warcury."
"Oh?" Darren raised an eyebrow, motioning for the agent to take a seat. He stepped over to the bar and poured two glasses of whiskey, dropping a few ice cubes into each.
He'd heard of the man.
This newly appointed Gorosei came from a politically weak Celestial Dragon bloodline.
Yet through sheer strength and cunning, he secured a dominant majority of votes in the Celestial Dragon Assembly held at the Holy Land, earning his place among the highest authorities of the World Government in one decisive stroke.
A legendary story, no doubt.
Yet that name... it bore an unspoken dread.
Whispered to embody boundless might, it was a fragile titan—ever vulnerable, coveted by grasping hands.
In its shadow lingered a quiet terror: the specter of ruin.
"And what message does Lord Topman Warcury have for me?" Darren asked casually, handing over a glass of whiskey before taking a seat and sipping from his own.
The CP0 agent didn't drink. He simply set the glass aside and glanced once toward Momonga.
The vice commander saluted again and quietly stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Only then did the agent produce a highly classified military transponder snail, placing it on the polished table and dialing a secure signal.
Buru-buru...
The snail began its call.
Darren narrowed his eyes.
This level of secrecy? A direct connection to the Gorosei themselves?
If he hadn't been absolutely certain that he'd left no trace or evidence behind, he might have thought they were here to eliminate him.
Then—click.
The signal connected.
Whoosh—!
A holographic image projected from the snail.
Within a refined, elegant villa, five aged figures either stood or sat, all of them silently observing Darren with strange, unreadable gazes.
At once, Darren set down his glass, stood, and offered a respectful bow.
"Rogers Darren, Captain of Marine Headquarters, Supreme Commander of the North Blue Marines.—at your service, honorable Gorosei."
The Gorosei chuckled coldly in unison.
"That's enough. No need to play the obedient subordinate."
"We know exactly what kind of man you are."
"The infamous Disgrace of the Marines…"
"…Hmph."
Darren simply smiled.
"You flatter me, my lords."
The Gorosei: …
Darren continued, still grinning.
"To what do I owe the honor of this direct communication, sirs?"
"Admiral Sengoku is also on Batiya Island. I imagine he'd be more suitable if—"
"That won't be necessary," said Topman Warcury, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. "This matter is not for Sengoku's ears."
His eyes sharpened as he looked at the young captain.
"We have another theory regarding the Celestial Dragon attack in the North Blue."
Darren frowned, then asked carefully,
"…And that theory is?"
Warcury gave a cold smirk.
"We are ordering you to begin a covert investigation—starting immediately. Look into all Marine ship movements during the time of the incident… and any personnel capable of flight or flight-adjacent abilities."
"You're the top officer in the North Blue. This information should be well within your reach."
Darren's eyes widened. His expression twisted in disbelief.
"My lords… surely you're not suggesting—"
Warcury's tone was calm but firm:
"You know exactly what we're suggesting. If you wish to keep your post, you'll follow orders."
Darren's face darkened.
"You're asking me to investigate my own comrades!?"
"I'm a Marine. You're asking me to betray the trust of my fellow soldiers!?"
The Gorosei all frowned at once.
"So what you're saying is—you intend to defy the World Government?"
Darren inhaled deeply, then replied in a low, steady voice:
"No. What I'm saying is…"
He clenched his fists. His voice hardened.
"…a captain doesn't have enough authority for something like this."
The Gorosei blinked, stunned by the sheer audacity.
Did this brat just… demand a promotion?
A mere captain—daring to bargain with the highest authorities of the World Government?
Then—Topman Warcury burst into laughter.
"Excellent. I knew I chose well."
To the Gorosei, the Marines were tools—a show of strength, a symbol of order.
And the best tools were the ones that knew how to beg.
The worst kind were those stubborn fools clinging to their so-called ideals.
"Do well, Darren."
"With your talent, a captain's rank really is beneath you."
Warcury gave him a long, meaningful look—then cut the transmission.
The image disappeared.
CP0 stood up, putting the transponder snail away.
"Not going to finish your drink?" Darren asked with a grin.
"After all, we're colleagues now—serving the same masters."
The agent hesitated, then raised the glass and took a slow sip. Without a sound, he faded into the air—his silhouette vanishing like a ghost.
Once Darren confirmed he was gone, the smile slid from his face.
A faint arc of violet-blue electricity crackled between his fingers as a magnetic pulse swept silently through the room.
No life signals remained.
CP0 was truly gone.
Darren tapped the table lightly.
The door opened, and Momonga stepped in.
"What happened?"
Darren lit another cigar, exhaling calmly.
"The World Government suspects the attack on the Celestial Dragon might have come from within the Marines."
"The Gorosei contacted me directly. The one who raised the suspicion… was Topman Warcury."
Momonga's pupils shrank.
Topman Warcury—the so-called brains of the Gorosei.
At his recent ascension ceremony, the official herald had read aloud the meaning of his name, bestowed by his father:
> "The blade of supreme judgment, suspended above the world, compelling all to kneel—a symbol of ultimate authority and divine power."
"They… really suspect us?"
Darren waved off the concern.
"No need to panic. They don't know anything—yet."
"They've just sent me to investigate everyone in the Marines."
"…That's bad. Damn it!"
Momonga cursed under his breath, then suddenly froze.
"…Wait a minute."
He stared at Darren, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and confusion.
"They… put you in charge of the investigation?"
Darren blew out a plume of smoke in a lazy spiral. His grin returned.
"Yes. They want me to investigate."
He put heavy emphasis on that one word.
"A wise decision, don't you think?"
He winked.
"After all, who better than a greedy, corrupt, power-hungry Marine scumbag with a reputation for kissing up to the Celestial Dragons?"
Momonga's face turned red. He didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or scream.
What the hell is this logic?
Did they just eliminate the real suspect… by putting him in charge?
---
To be continued...