The Elegant Magneto Fruit

"Donquixote Doflamingo?"

Upon hearing this name, Darren was stunned for a moment, a strange expression immediately surfacing on his face.

As a transmigrator, he was not at all unfamiliar with this name; one could even say it was like thunder to his ears.

One of the future Shichibukai, the "Flamingo"!

The greatest intermediary in the underworld, controlling over half of the world's illegal trade channels, "Joker"!

A man who was the King of Dressrosa on the surface, while secretly collaborating with Kaido of the Beasts to stir up chaos across the world—a major villain!

However, At this moment, the Shichibukai system had not yet been established, Kaido of the Beasts had not yet become one of the Four Emperors dominating the New World, And Doflamingo... was nothing more than a yellow-haired brat who had just arrived in the North Blue with a few subordinates to build his influence.

"That's right, this brat's background..."

Momonga spoke vaguely, his tone tinged with faint apprehension.

Darren chuckled and bluntly clarified:

"Isn't he just a Celestial Dragon stripped of his rights? Now he's come to the North Blue like a stray dog, biting everyone he sees."

Momonga glanced at Darren. Despite working together for so many years, he had long known that Darren was a lawless fellow who feared nothing but a peaceful world.

Yet, the latter's disdainful tone toward the noble "Celestial Dragons" still left Momonga feeling quite helpless.

"You're certainly calm enough."

He sighed helplessly, "Even though Doflamingo has been stripped of his right to continue living in the Holy Land Mary Geoise, no matter what, the blood of the Celestial Dragons still flows through his veins..."

"Now that he has raised the flag of the Donquixote Pirates, he likely intends to expand his influence and take root here in the North Blue. It's truly difficult for us to handle... We might even see the layouts we've spent the last few years building destroyed."

His expression was troubled.

"Darren, do we need to report this to Headquarters?"

Logically speaking, since Doflamingo had raised a pirate flag, they, as the North Blue Marines, should naturally launch a crusade against him.

But Doflamingo's status as a "Celestial Dragon" made them hesitate, fearing the consequences of striking him.

Darren pondered for a moment.

Doflamingo was indeed a thorny issue.

One must realize that in the original plot, this guy was a madman who dared to hijack the Heavenly Tribute. Relying on his status as a "Celestial Dragon," he forced the World Government to make concessions and grant him the position of Shichibukai.

The Marines were also terrified by his identity and dared not move against him lightly.

Although Staff Officer Tsuru had gone to suppress him many times, causing him quite a bit of trouble—to the point where Doflamingo would flee in terror at the mere sight of her warship—

This fact alone proved the point.

—Because Doflamingo remained at large.

With the formidable strength of a Marine veteran like Staff Officer Tsuru, even if she were not on par with Garp or Sengoku of the same era, arresting an undeveloped Doflamingo should have been effortless.

Yet, she let Doflamingo "slip through her fingers" time and time again.

To put it bluntly, it was out of concern for his status as a Celestial Dragon.

"No, leave that brat to me. You don't need to worry about it for now."

"As for Headquarters, I suspect old man Sengoku won't be able to sit still for long."

Momonga nodded and turned to leave the residence.

Darren lay quietly in the bone-chilling ice water, lost in thought.

At a certain moment, he suddenly beckoned.

A faint arc of electricity seemed to flicker between his fingers, and an invisible, eerie magnetic field suddenly expanded outward.

The next moment, an incredible sight occurred—

A coin flew out from the pocket of the military uniform hanging nearby, nimbly and steadily "floating" to the palm of Darren's hand, hovering there silently as if controlled by some bizarre power.

If anyone were here to see this, they would surely be shocked.

Because as Darren's fingers twitched, the metallic coin circled his palm, flipping and dancing like a nimble butterfly.

Paramecia, Magnet-Magnet Fruit!

In the original plot, this was the Devil Fruit ability of the "Worst Generation" Supernova, Eustass Kid!

The ability to create magnetic fields, magnetize metal objects, and manipulate all metallic items through magnetic and electrical force.

This was a trophy Darren had seized during a crackdown on the mafia. Once he confirmed it was the Magnet-Magnet Fruit belonging to Eustass Kid, he had consumed it without the slightest hesitation.

The Magnet-Magnet Fruit was, in essence, a Devil Fruit with immense potential and an infinitely high ceiling; it was simply developed like trash by that idiot Kid.

He could have been an elegant "Magneto," yet he insisted on playing with Legos and building Gundams.

It was a complete waste of a god-tier, game-breaking fruit.

At least in Darren's view, if developed properly, the power of the Magnet-Magnet Fruit would be absolutely no less than that of a top-tier Logia.

And this, naturally, had become Darren's greatest trump card.

Thinking this, he slowly closed his eyes.

He lay there in the freezing ice water, an invisible magnetic field eerily shrouding his surroundings, while metal coins danced nimbly in the air, faint purple electric arcs flickering and jumping between them from time to time.

Under the influence of the bio-magnetic field, the wounds on his body surface healed rapidly, and the muscles all over his body rose and fell in a rhythmic, contracting motion.

This was an ability of the Magnet-Magnet Fruit he had only recently developed.

By placing the human body within a bio-magnetic field of a certain intensity, it could assist in the recovery of injuries and continuously improve physical fitness.

Of course, even with his current formidable physique, he could only endure this bio-magnetic field for about three hours; the longer the duration, the greater the pressure and pain he would have to bear.

Once it exceeded the body's limit, his internal organs would suffer irreversible damage.

Time ticked away, second by second...

Accompanied by the effects of the bio-magnetic field, In Darren's perception, The various data points of his body

Would jump upward once every 10 minutes.

Physique +0.01

Strength +0.01

Speed +0.01

The next day.

Darren changed into a brand-new military uniform and draped a wide cloak over his shoulders. Just as he arrived at the base commander's office, he saw Gion's partner sitting there listlessly, sporting a pair of dark circles under his eyes and yawning incessantly.

He clearly looked like someone who was mentally drained after an all-nighter of training.

Seeing this, Darren smiled; it seemed he had really stimulated this guy.

"Major Gion's partner, good morning."

He offered a greeting.

"Morning..."

Gion's partner responded in a daze, but as if he had clearly recognized the voice, he suddenly shuddered and bolted up from the sofa:

"Don't hit the face!!"

He assumed a defensive stance, his hands crossed in front of his eyes.

Primarily shielding his face.

He had been beaten into having psychological trauma... Darren chuckled and shook his head, saying:

"Relax, I know you make your living with that face."

Gion's partner looked at Darren with suspicion before slowly lowering his hands.

As if feeling that his pride was at stake, he stiffened his neck and snorted:

"Glad you're sensible."

He paused, then added:

"About yesterday's sparring, you know, um, I didn't use my full strength."

"After all, you're the head of the North Blue; if I beat you up in front of so many of your subordinates, it wouldn't look very good."

Darren smiled "understandingly":

"Indeed, Major Gion's partner is a genius from Headquarters; how could I possibly be your match?"

He pulled out a box of cigars and handed one to Gion's partner.

"That goes without saying!" Gion's partner was very satisfied with Darren's attitude, placing one hand on his hip and taking the cigar with the other, his face full of pride.

"But Darren, where did you get these cigars? Good stuff like this is rare, even at Headquarters..."

As he spoke, Gion's partner had already lit the cigar, puffing away in blissful clouds of smoke.

Darren sat down beside him, crossed his legs, and lit a cigar of his own.

"I have plenty of these. If you like them, Major Gion's partner, I'll have a crate sent over to you later."

"A, a crate?"

Gion's partner's hand trembled, his eyes widening as if the cigar had suddenly burned him.

He was no country bumpkin who had never seen the world.

This type of cigar, reserved exclusively for the nobility, was produced on the tobacco plantations of the Bellman Islands in the West Blue, with each individual stick costing over 50,000 Berries.

A box contained ten sticks, and a crate held twenty boxes.

In other words, a single crate of these cigars was worth over 10 million Berries!

Yet his own annual salary as a Headquarters Major was not even 2 million Berries!

That guy Darren... where did he get this kind of money!?