In the hospital corridor, the two stood facing each other from afar.
Outside the window, snowflakes drifted through the air.
Yet Momonga felt the chill inside was far worse—cold to the bone.
Daren's smile deepened, growing more defiant, even bordering on madness.
"You said this kind of thing has never happened before..."
"Yes, it's true. It never has."
"But just because it's never happened doesn't mean it's impossible—and it certainly doesn't mean it's wrong."
His tone suddenly turned cryptic.
"The meanings of one and zero... they couldn't be more different."
The moment those words left his mouth, Momonga felt as though struck by lightning. His hands trembled slightly.
A fear unlike anything he had ever felt gripped him, choking the breath from his lungs, nearly suffocating him.
But in the very next moment, he clenched his fists tightly, lifted his head with determined eyes, and said through gritted teeth:
"I'm going with you."
Daren smiled in satisfaction, as if that was exactly the answer he had been waiting for.
But he refused without hesitation.
"No need. It's easier for me to act alone."
"Even if something really does happen to me, I trust you with the North Blue Marine fleet."
"You stay here and keep watch over those two."
"I'll be back soon."
With that, Daren turned and walked away without a second thought.
Only when Daren's silhouette had vanished at the far end of the corridor did Momonga—who had been standing motionless like a statue—finally let out a slow breath.
He realized his back was soaked in cold sweat.
After a moment of silence, he raised his hand in a solemn salute toward the now-empty corridor.
Even though there was no one there.
...
Momonga subconsciously turned to look out the window.
Snow blanketed the world in a heavy gloom.
Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, lightning flashing, thunder rumbling—as if a monstrous storm was about to erupt.
"The weather's changing..." he murmured.
Then he turned around, eyes quickly regaining their usual resolve.
"You really are something else, Captain Daren," he said under his breath. His voice trembled slightly, but a genuine smile crept onto his lips.
"As your adjutant... it's truly an honor."
He clenched his fists.
Daren was right.
Going with him would do no good.
With his own strength, he couldn't be of any help to Daren.
But staying behind—maybe there was something he could do.
...
One minute later.
Daren, having left the hospital, arrived alone in the northern region of Batia Island.
The area was a vast stretch of rolling mountains. Normally covered in dense green forest, the heavy snow had turned the entire landscape into a world of white.
Confirming that no one was tracking him, Daren pulled a crumpled piece of white paper from his coat.
Only half the paper remained, clearly torn.
A Vivre Card.
His own Vivre Card.
Laying it flat in his palm, he could see it slowly drifting in a certain direction, as if pulled by some invisible force.
Once the direction was clear, Daren tucked the Vivre Card away.
It was a risky move, but Daren wasn't reckless.
He hadn't climbed from the lowest rank of private to his current position of power on strength alone.
Caution, foresight, strategy, analytical skill—he believed he was second to none in these areas.
Back when he was first assigned the escort mission, he had already verified that all CP agents escorting Saint Xildes this time belonged to CP1.
They were mere intelligence operatives—not even close to the level of CP9, who guarded Enies Lobby.
In other words, the guards protecting Saint Xildes... didn't possess Haki.
That was all he needed.
As these thoughts flickered through his mind, faint arcs of electricity sparked between Daren's fingers.
An invisible magnetic field surged outward from his body.
The metal brace on his right wrist instantly "melted," flowing like liquid metal as it stretched into a thin sheet.
Roughly a meter long and less than half a meter wide, the front tapered into a triangle, its sleek form radiating a sense of speed.
It looked like a silver-white hoverboard, floating steadily in midair.
Daren stepped onto the board, knees bent, upper body leaning forward.
The next instant—propelled by a roaring, surging magnetic force, the metal board blasted forward, launching the Marine Captain at blistering speed. In a flash, he shattered the sound barrier, leaving behind deep sonic booms in his wake.
n no time, he vanished into the dark thunderclouds, swallowed by lightning and storm, disappearing into the distant sky.
…
At the same time...
Far off the coast of Batia Island, a luxurious ship bearing the flag of the World Government sailed slowly across the sea.
"Achoo!"
"What friggin' weather! It's clearly midsummer, and it's snowing. This isn't the New World."
On the deck, the Celestial Dragon Saint Xildes sneezed, pulled his ornate robes tighter around himself, and cursed under his breath.
Under the gray sky, thick snowflakes drifted down, landing on the deck and masts of the ship. The vessel, already painted entirely in white, was now blanketed in a layer of silver frost.
The icy sea breeze blew sharply against them, and the low temperature fogged up the glass dome Saint Xildes used to shield himself from the outside air.
"Saint Xildes-sama! According to the established course, if all goes as planned, the official ship will arrive at the Holy Land in two days."
A CP agent in a black suit walked over respectfully, dropped to one knee, and offered a soft mink coat with both hands.
"Twelve members from the World Government's CP1 division have been assigned to serve you throughout this return voyage!"
Saint Xildes took the lavish-looking coat and draped it over his shoulders with visible displeasure.
"Why is it just CP1? Where are the CP0 agents?"
Though every Celestial Dragon had their own personal guards, Saint Xildes' escort had been nearly wiped out during an encounter with the World Destroyer, Byrnndi World.
Within the World Government's intelligence structure, CP0 stood at the top of the CIPHER-POL hierarchy, with authority to mobilize agents from CP1 through CP9.
Given the threat he'd faced, it would have been reasonable for the Holy Land to send at least one CP0 agent to ensure his safety.
Instead, they sent CP1—an agency primarily tasked with intelligence gathering.
The CP1 leader answered nervously,
"Reporting, Saint Xildes-sama, the CP0 personnel are currently working with the Marines in a joint operation to hunt down the pirate Byrnndi World. Many of our combatants have been reassigned."
"For this return voyage, the CP department has already conducted a full safety assessment. There will be no issues—please rest assured."
Hearing this, Saint Xildes-sama gave an impatient nod.
Although the Celestial Dragons technically had the authority to call on CP0, that privilege was usually reserved for major events or moments of crisis.
In normal circumstances, the true power to deploy CP0 lay in the hands of the Five Elders, the World Government's highest authority.
"My lord, it's cold out. Please return to your cabin to rest," the CP1 leader suggested respectfully.
Saint Xildes-sama waved him off.
"No. Take me to see my wife first."
The CP1 agent nodded, turned, and led the way to a separate cabin.
The interior was dark, filled with a musty stench of rot and dampness, and faintly laced with the metallic tang of blood.
At the center of the room stood a cage used for slaves.
A small girl sat inside, shackled at the wrists and ankles, her mouth gagged. She trembled.
When she saw the Celestial Dragon enter, her teary, reddened eyes flared with defiance. She glared at him.
"What a pair of eyes..."
Saint Xildes' heart pounded with excitement.
This was the feeling...
Most people, upon learning his identity, would grovel and tremble like lapdogs. It was boring.
But this kind of stubborn stare—that's what made conquest fun.
Watching her slowly break down under torture, watching the light in her eyes fade away bit by bit...
That process was the most delightful, the most thrilling thing in the world.
"Just a little longer... My lovely wife, just a little longer. Once we return to the Holy Land, we'll live a happy, fulfilling life together."
He couldn't help but laugh aloud, the irritation from the cold weather completely forgotten, and stepped out of the cabin.
His blood was surging, and he could barely contain himself.
But how could a noble Celestial Dragon possibly defile himself by indulging in such pleasures in this filthy, low-class space?
Besides, she was still dirty, covered in mud. She needed to be cleaned properly at the Holy Land.
Otherwise, even he might end up reeking of lowliness.
The cabin door shut again.
In the darkness, the dim light swayed with the ship's motion, casting fragmented shadows across the walls.
The little girl sat motionless.
Fresh scrapes marked her knees and arms—likely from being dragged into the cage.
Her small body curled up tightly in a corner, hidden in the shadows.
No one noticed...
Her tiny hands were clenched into fists.
She was holding a piece of paper, tucked secretly in her palm.
It was something the handsome Marine "brother" had slipped to her when he "bound" her.
She didn't know what it was.
But for some reason, she hadn't let go of it.
As if it could offer her protection, shelter... and in this pitch-black world—her only hope.
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / PinkSnake