Chapter 362: Chapter 5: Are You Sure?
Tokikake stormed off in a huff, muttering curses under his breath. But not before helping himself to the largest fruit baskets in the room, prompting a few sharp glares from the others as he shuffled away like a bandit in broad daylight.
Darren sighed and turned to Borsalino.
"...What about Enma?"
After unleashing his final blow during the battle, Darren had collapsed from sheer exhaustion and blood loss, blacking out completely. He had no memory of anything that happened afterward—and when he awoke, Enma was gone. Most likely, the blade had been retrieved by the Marines’ Special Science Group.
Borsalino’s face stretched into a serene smile.
"That sword of yours is still dangerously unstable. You know how it is—feeding Devil Fruits to inanimate objects is still very much... experimental." He shrugged. "And since the Paramecia-type ones haven’t been fully studied yet, it’s safer to keep Enma with the Special Science Group for now. Fewer surprises that way."
Darren nodded. He had sensed it too—Enma pulsed with a dangerous unpredictability every time he wielded it.
Unlike Spandam’s sword in the original timeline, which had devoured the Elephant-Elephant Fruit and gained animal traits along with a basic "soul," Enma had consumed the More-More Fruit—a Paramecia.
The result was something else entirely.
It didn’t become alive. It didn’t sprout eyes or a voice.
But Enma’s will... it remained.
And that will had somehow seized control over the More-More Fruit’s powers.
The problem was, the fruit’s abilities were immense. Too immense. Like handing a cannon to a child.
The fusion was raw, unstable—its power wild and clumsy.
Still, Darren wasn’t worried about anyone stealing or trying to master Enma.
No one else could draw out its full potential. Not even a Great Swordsman.
The moment Enma devoured the More-More Fruit, its abilities had become a part of the blade’s core—not the user’s. Unlike Byrnndi World, whose powers could be cast outward, Enma’s growth applied only to itself.
Could any swordsman in their right mind wield a blade hundreds of meters long in the heat of battle?
No.
And besides, given Darren’s current reputation, merit, and strength, no one in the Marine command dared think about prying it from his hands.
"Well," Borsalino said, scratching the back of his head and gesturing to his bandaged leg, "I just dropped by to give you the update."
He heaved a dramatic sigh.
"This time... the injury’s serious. Might be a month or two before I’m back on duty. What a shame."
Darren: "..."
Zephyr: "..."
Kuzan: "..."
They watched as he hobbled away on his crutches, their expressions twitching with silent judgment.
That guy’s healing factor borders on absurd. He’ll probably be back to normal in ten days... tops.
But none of them spoke.
It wasn’t their problem.
Sengoku would be the one with the headache.
Still, Darren was quietly stunned. The fact that Borsalino had even been injured at all said volumes about the Golden Lion’s terrifying power.
Then Zephyr cleared his throat.
"Darren," he began slowly, carefully weighing his words, "I didn’t come just to check on your injuries. There are... a few other matters to discuss."
Darren offered a faint smile. "Go ahead, Zephyr-sensei."
Zephyr nodded, pleased. He’s got the discipline of a soldier, even if his morals are still wildly questionable...
"First things first—we need to talk about the Charlotte Linlin situation."
His gaze turned probing. "You and Big Mom..."
"Impossible! Absolutely not!" Darren waved a hand with indignant force, voice full of righteous denial.
Zephyr’s brows climbed skeptically. "Are you... sure?"
Darren’s eye twitched. "Of course I’m sure!"
What kind of question is that?!
What do you mean "am I sure"? As if I could possibly forget sleeping with Big Mom?! That voluptuous, madwoman walking volcano?!
He gritted his teeth. "Zephyr-sensei, I know I’ve... had my share of dalliances."
"Your reputation in that area isn’t just bad," Zephyr interrupted flatly. "It’s a complete disaster."
"...But I still have some standards," Darren insisted, stiffly.
"Do you?" Zephyr said with a slow blink.
Darren: "..."
Grinding his teeth, Darren repeated: "Yes. I’m sure."
Zephyr gave him a long, considering look, then abruptly turned to Kuzan.
"Kuzan. Go get me a cup of coffee. The machine’s at the end of the hall."
Kuzan blinked. "Huh? Why coffee? Water’s fine, isn’t it?"
A vein popped on Zephyr’s forehead. He smacked Kuzan over the head.
"I’m telling you to leave the room!"
Kuzan recoiled, rubbing his head. "O-okay..."
When Kuzan had finally exited, Zephyr sighed.
Why are all my students brilliant and infuriating in equal measure?
He turned back to Darren.
"I know about you and Gion."
Darren blinked, looking genuinely puzzled. "Me and Gion? There’s nothing going on between us, Zephyr-sensei."
Zephyr gave him a deadpan stare.
"Kid. She was my administrative officer during the Training Camp. I know her better than she knows herself."
"She’s been zoning out. Her moods are erratic. And the light in her eyes—it’s changed. She’s falling for someone."
Darren looked uncomfortable.
Zephyr didn’t let up.
"And every time you come back from the North Blue or complete a mission, she shows up at work practically glowing. You think I can’t put two and two together?"
He sighed.
"I didn’t want to believe it at first. But it’s true, isn’t it? You really dared to make a move on Gion?"
Darren gave a dry cough, then awkwardly fished out a cigar from the gift basket.
"Zephyr-sensei, please... have a smoke."
Zephyr: "..."
He accepted the cigar, expression unreadable.
Darren lit it for him with trembling hands.
Zephyr took a drag, exhaled slowly, then spoke.
"Back to Big Mom—this isn’t just some rumor to ignore. It’s serious, but not insurmountable."
"I know you. I know you’ll never change."
"But listen carefully, kid."
He leveled a finger at Darren, his eyes sharp with warning.
"Charlotte Linlin is a pirate. Whatever chaos she brings—and however alluring she may seem—you can’t afford to play recklessly with people like her."
To be continued...