CHAPTER 639: CHAPTER 158: THIS TROUBLEMAKING CREW

"Darren! Darren! Let’s go!"

Kuzan’s booming voice echoed through the Family Quarters at first light, bright with his usual overexcitement.

Barely awake, Darren rolled his eyes and tucked the blanket snugly around Toki’s sleeping form before getting up to wash. "Quit yelling," he grumbled. "I’m coming."

He changed into the Marine uniform Toki had laid out, yawned, and stepped outside.

At the courtyard gate, Kuzan was waiting in full uniform, practically vibrating. He thrust a bag of dorayaki and a carton of milk into Darren’s hands, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hahaha! Darren! Finally, a mission together! I’ve been waiting forever!"

"It’s not even a real mission," Darren said around a bite, already heading for the military port. "We’re just representing the Marines at King Neptune’s wedding. Is the battleship ready?"

"Everything’s set!" Kuzan bounced along at his side. "Garp-san’s attending too, so we’re taking his flagship."

"And—even if there’s no fighting—this is our first mission together! That makes it momentous!"

Darren let the enthusiasm wash past. "Wasn’t Vice Admiral Garp chasing the Roger Pirates? How does he have time for a wedding on Fish-Man Island?"

Kuzan scratched his head. "Not sure. I heard Roger slipped him again. Garp-san lost the trail and came back to Headquarters."

So that’s it. Darren exhaled inwardly. Roger really was a man favored by fate—hard to pin down.

By the timeline, he should be getting close to the Final Island, Laugh Tale. The legend of the "Pirate King" was looming.

Should I go stir up trouble for him?

The thought flickered and fell away. With Darren’s current strength, a straight fight wouldn’t be like before, but he still put the odds at sixty–forty for Roger. After the Celestial Dragon framing incident, Rayleigh and Gaban wouldn’t let Darren face Roger alone again. Roger alone was one thing—he could withdraw if pressed. Roger with Rayleigh and Gaban was another matter. If the three of them swarmed him, even flight might not save him.

"Hey, Darren—what do you think? Did you hear my suggestion?"

Kuzan waved a hand in front of his face.

"Oh? A duel, right?" Darren blinked and surfaced from his thoughts.

"Exactly!" Kuzan clenched a fist, eyes blazing as he stared Darren down.

Darren sighed and opted for the path of least noise. "All right. Starting now, we duel. First one to speak loses. Got it?"

Kuzan froze, then slapped both hands over his mouth and nodded vigorously.

Peace at last. Darren exhaled.

He had taken two steps when Kuzan blurted, face turning scarlet, "I lost!"

He tore his hands away and declared with solemn sincerity, "As expected of my lifelong rival, Darren! I’ve lost to you again!"

Darren: ...

The corner of Darren’s eye twitched. He endured Kuzan’s running commentary all the way to the port.

A dog-headed battleship lay docked there, Marines bustling over repairs and maintenance.

"Bwahahaha! Young Darren! You’re here!"

Garp stood on the pier in his signature dog-headed cap, happily demolishing a bag of senbei. He burst out laughing at the sight of Darren and lunged in for a hug.

Darren angled aside just enough to spare his uniform from the senbei grease and smiled politely. "Vice Admiral Garp. It’s been a while."

Unbothered, Garp gave him an approving once-over. "Hm. Not bad, kid. You’ve improved."

"Me too! Me too, Garp-san! I’m here too!" Kuzan popped up beside them, eyes shining like a pup begging for a pat.

"Kuzan’s here too, huh? Not bad, kid."

The tone was perfunctory, but Garp still pulled him into a hearty embrace—smearing grease liberally across Kuzan’s jacket while Darren looked on.

Darren groaned inwardly. Kuzan loud as a drum, Garp incorrigible as ever... This trip wasn’t going to be peaceful.

He bit the cap off a cigar, lit it, and drew in hard.

He’d rather be fishing with Borsalino or hunting pirates with Sakazuki than share a deck with this pair. Too much noise. With Borsalino, at least there’d be beach chairs, sun, and watermelon juice in civilized quiet. With Sakazuki, the taciturn hound would bury himself in work; even during pirate hunts, Darren could steal a little rest while Sakazuki charged ahead.

Still, he understood Sengoku’s logic. Headquarters had chosen its most dovish officers to represent them at Fish-Man Island’s wedding—a clear gesture of goodwill. Sending Borsalino or Sakazuki would have been ill-suited: one too flamboyant for a solemn occasion, the other far too grim for a celebration.

"I just hope these two are the only Marine representatives," Darren muttered, watching the master and apprentice grin like wolves at each other. "Otherwise, I’m going to have a massive headache..."

He turned—and stopped short at a leering, crudely cheeky grin.

Darren: ...

Tokikake stood there, all lazy amusement and shameless satisfaction.

Darren: ...

"Hehehehe... Didn’t expect me, did you, Darren?" Tokikake rubbed his hands together, eyes twinkling with that too-familiar, man-to-man look. "Even if you wouldn’t let me guard Fish-Man Island from G-5, this old dog still found a way aboard."

"...," Darren said, and buried his face in his hands.

To be continued...