The hall of the estate was dim and cold.
The chandelier cast a pale, chilly glow, stretching shadows across the room.
"Doffy, how've things been lately?"
Daren sprawled lazily on a plush leather sofa, legs crossed, lighting a cigar as he asked the question with a relaxed smile.
Trebol and the other officers of the Donquixote family stood frozen in the shadows, stiff with tension. Not one dared breathe too loudly. The pressure in the room was suffocating.
They stole wary glances at Daren, who, despite sitting there so casually, radiated a terrifying aura of dominance.
He was like a sleeping beast—calm for now, but with the sheer presence of something that could erupt at any moment and tear everyone apart.
This guy's getting more terrifying by the day...
The tales they'd heard from Senor about Daren's bloody rampage through the Beasts Pirates' headquarters echoed in their minds. At this point, any lingering thoughts of defiance had been completely crushed. All that remained was fear.
Doflamingo, calm as ever, sat across from Daren. He caught the gold-embossed cigar Daren tossed to him, bit it between his lips, and smiled faintly.
"Thank you for your concern, Godfather."
"With Admiral Momonga's full support, the family's business and influence have been developing smoothly."
Daren gave a slight chuckle and shook his head.
"No, I don't really care about the Donquixote family's growth. I've always trusted your abilities—otherwise, I wouldn't have left the entire North Blue underworld in your hands."
"What I care about is your personal growth. After all, you're my godson."
He gave the blond teen in the pink feathered coat a once-over, quietly sensing the strength of his bio-magnetic field.
"From what I can see, you haven't let me down. You've made real progress..."
Raising a hand, Daren gestured a height and grinned.
"I still remember when I left the North Blue a few months ago, you were only about this tall. Now you're nearly 1.8 meters."
Daren didn't know Doflamingo's exact age, but he figured he had to be around twelve or thirteen.
That age comes with explosive growth—and Doflamingo wasn't just any kid. He was born to be a "dark king."
In Daren's eyes, the boy before him had changed drastically in physique and presence since his last visit.
Most notably, the strength of his bio-magnetic field had multiplied several times over.
The wild, rebellious aura, the cold gleam in his eyes, the cruelty etched between his brows—it was all starting to match the image of the overbearing Shichibukai Daren remembered from the future.
No wonder even Momonga had started to feel uneasy.
This kid's growth was absurd.
"That's good."
That was very good.
Doflamingo pressed his lips together, saying nothing.
Outwardly calm, but inside, suspicion and unease churned. He couldn't quite grasp what Daren truly meant.
"Having any trouble with your training lately?"
Daren suddenly asked, exhaling a thin trail of smoke like a dragon's breath.
Doflamingo raised an eyebrow.
What did he mean by that?
Suppressing his confusion, he answered slowly,
"Nothing major. I've been training hard, constantly developing my Devil Fruit powers and making sure not to neglect my physical conditioning."
"Oh?"
A grin crept onto Daren's face.
In the next instant, without warning, his figure vanished from the sofa with a sharp whoosh.
Doflamingo's pupils contracted to pinpoints. Every muscle in his body snapped taut.
Like a drawn bowstring pulled to its limit.
An overwhelming sense of danger surged over him. Cold sweat instantly beaded down his back.
He couldn't see it.
He couldn't track Daren's movement at all!
Before he had time to think, Doflamingo's instincts took over. His fingers curled into claws, and he lashed out at the space in front of him.
Clang!
A burst of sparks exploded, lighting up the black-haired Marine's dominant, arrogant face.
Five nearly invisible threads of razor-sharp wire stopped dead against Doflamingo's clawed hand, shimmering with a cold gleam under the chandelier.
Threads sharp enough to slice through steel and stone—yet now, they couldn't pierce human flesh.
"Young master!!"
"What are you trying to do!?"
"Damn it!!"
Trebol and the others finally snapped out of it, their expressions twisting as they drew their weapons in a panic.
"Stand down."
Doflamingo's cold voice cut through the tension, stopping them in their tracks.
A single bead of cold sweat traced down his cheek. Reflected in his sunglasses was Daren's smiling, handsome face. Doflamingo stared at him deeply, then let out a low, sinister laugh.
"Fufufufufu... No need to panic. Godfather's just testing how far my training's come."
Trebol and the rest froze, glancing at Daren with a mix of shock and disbelief.
Testing his training?
But that killing intent just now—it had felt like being drowned in a sea of corpses and blood. It was overwhelming enough to crush them where they stood.
Still, out of loyalty and faith in Doflamingo, they forced themselves to calm down, lowered their weapons, and stepped back a few paces.
They understood one thing perfectly well—if this Marine had really wanted to kill Doffy, not even all of them combined could've stopped him.
Seeing this, Daren finally smiled in satisfaction.
"Not bad. Your reactions were sharp, and your strength..."
With a casual flick of his fingers, he tugged on the razor-sharp threads.
Under the stunned gaze of Trebol and the others, those unbreakable wires twisted and bent into warped arcs in Daren's grasp—like they were nothing.
"...has grown quite a bit."
Daren looked at the blond youth before him, eyes full of approval, and gave a small smile.
"It's clear you haven't slacked off. As your godfather, that makes me proud."
"Doffy, remember this—business, enterprise, influence, territory... all those things that make people feel powerful, they're just illusions."
He gestured toward the corridor leading to the banquet hall, where the clink of glasses and the buzz of mingling voices could be faintly heard.
"Some people spend their whole lives rolling around in power and prestige, thinking they're great—successful, important. But to those with real strength? They're nothing more than ants."
"Don't let the success in front of you cloud your vision. This sea—at its core—is a brutal jungle. Only the strong survive. Only real power puts you above it all."
"Now... come at me. While I'm back in the North Blue, I might as well give you a little training."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't be much of a godfather, would I?"