Impel Down, Level 4: The Blazing Hell.
The environment remained as hellish as ever—sweltering, dry, and reeking of blood in a way that made one's stomach churn.
Prisoners in zebra-striped uniforms trudged through the infernal heat, their feet burning against the scorched ground. Under the shouts and whips of the ferocious guards, they carried bundles of firewood to the boiling blood pool, lining up to toss them into the inferno beneath the cauldron.
At that moment, newly minted junior guard Gecko Moria was patrolling the cells, a massive pair of scissors nearly two meters long in hand.
As he exited one cell and opened the next, the prisoner inside stared at him in terror. Like grabbing a chick, Moria seized the upper half of the man's body with his left hand and—snip!—cut away the prisoner's shadow with surgical precision. Then, as casually as tossing out trash, he flung the prisoner against the wall and stuffed the struggling shadow into the shadow box he carried with him.
This shadow box was crafted from his own shadow using the abilities of the Shadow-Shadow Fruit. Since shadows can only be preserved either within a body or inside another shadow, only a container made of shadow could hold them.
Moria had prepared four such boxes, each designated for a different floor.
Warden in Chief Columbus had restricted his movements to only the first four levels.
Moria didn't mind. There were more than enough prisoners in the first four levels to keep him busy for years. Losing access to the bottom two actually made things easier—at least, on the surface, he appeared obedient.
Besides, he found that Impel Down was a rather suitable place to live. For someone of the Oni race, the sunless depths felt quite comfortable. The only downside was that it made his 'sun burial' performances practically impossible.
Just as Moria emerged from one cell and prepared to enter the next, two guards patrolling nearby with muskets in hand chatted in hushed voices.
Though they spoke quietly, in this echoing cavern, their conversation was still easy to catch.
"Shiryu the Head Jailer is actually being transferred out!"
"That's the best news I've heard in years! With that butcher gone, we low-level guards won't have to worry about getting killed by one of our own anymore."
"No kidding. But I bet the prisoners are the happiest. With all the inmates Shiryu's killed over the years, it must be in the hundreds—no, thousands at least!"
Moria didn't pay much attention. He didn't even know who this Shiryu was. The one who had left a strong impression on him was Magellan, the Vice-Warden. That guy was downright terrifying, with poison leaking from his entire body.
As for Columbus the Warden in Chief, his aura was even more unfathomable. Definitely not someone Moria could challenge in his current state.
But one thing bugged him—how did one get promoted around here?
You had to earn merit... but where would that come from?
The thought brought Moria to a halt, his mind going blank.
"Damn. If the World Government has no intention of promoting me, then am I stuck here for the next twenty years?"
For some reason, his thoughts began to drift. He couldn't help but imagine the future. What if ten years from now... he was still just a lowly prison guard?
What would that make him? The most powerful grunt in the history of Impel Down?
Meanwhile, inside the Warden's Office, Shiryu had just completed his resignation paperwork and was stepping out, carrying a file folder stuffed with documents.
And right outside, he was met by a towering man nearly five meters tall, dressed in black like a demon—horned helmet on his head and giant bat wings unfurled behind him.
"Yo, Vice-Warden Magellan. Didn't expect you to come see me off. Guess you don't hate me that much after all," Shiryu quipped.
"No. I really do hate you," Magellan replied flatly.
Magellan didn't bother showing the slightest courtesy to his departing colleague. With a cold expression, he said, "I'm only here to see you walk out of Impel Down with my own eyes—just to make sure I never have to see you again."
"Oh my, how heartless," Shiryu chuckled without a trace of anger. He pulled a premium cigar from his coat pocket, slipped it between his lips, and lit it with a flick of his lighter, taking a deep drag.
Surveying the harsh environment of the Blazing Hell, he exhaled a thick plume of smoke and sighed.
"Honestly, I kind of liked this place. Now that I'm heading to the Navy, I wonder if Raiu will still get enough to feed on."
With that, he brushed past Magellan and made his way toward the elevator that led to the first floor above sea level.
Magellan watched his retreating figure grow smaller in the distance and shook his head with a sigh.
"I don't know what the Navy's thinking, taking that bastard in. Hopefully, someone over there can keep him in check—otherwise, there's going to be a bloodbath."
That said, from Impel Down's perspective, this was definitely a blessing.
Shiryu, filled with both regret and nostalgia, took the elevator up to Level 1, Sea Level.
As always, the place was bustling. Newly captured prisoners were lined up, waiting for their initiation.
A full-body cleansing—boiled in 100 °C water. Certainly... invigorating.
Despite the crowd, not a single guard or staff member dared approach Shiryu or greet him.
At most, they watched in silence—some with fear, others with relief.
Shiryu didn't care.
To him, they were all weaklings.
And the weak didn't deserve his attention.
They were only good for passing time—or feeding Raiu.
Past the iron bars stood the massive gate to the outside world.
What came next was simple.
He boarded the Navy warship waiting to pick him up and slowly left the underwater prison that had been his home for years.
Oddly enough, despite his earlier show of sentimentality...
Shiryu didn't look back. Not even once.
His eyes were instead filled with anticipation—for the future.
After all, walking out of this place meant freedom.
If things didn't work out in the Navy, he could just leave anytime he wanted. Right?
And so, Shiryu was in quite the good mood.
So good, in fact, that his eyes took on a reddish tint as he glanced at the surrounding sailors. He suddenly felt... an itch in his fingers.
But as the warship passed through the first Gate of Justice, something felt off.
The ship didn't follow the triangular current toward the next gate.
"Aren't we heading to Marineford for reporting in?"
Shiryu asked the major leading the escort, his instincts on high alert.
"That was the original plan," the major replied respectfully, "but since you've been assigned as Vice-Admiral Akainu's aide, and the Vice-Admiral just received a new mission, he instructed us to take you directly to him. Once the mission's complete, we'll return to Marineford together."
"Vice-Admiral Akainu?" Shiryu's expression stiffened.
Even though he had been working in Impel Down, it wasn't as if he was completely ignorant of the outside world.
The World Economic Journal was delivered regularly, and in that godforsaken place, reading the newspaper had basically become the top leisure activity.
So he was well aware of the Navy's newly appointed three Admiral candidates.
"That magma Logia user—Sakazuki?!"
"Yes, sir."
...
Two hours later, the warship successfully rendezvoused with another vessel. Following the major's instructions, Shiryu stepped alone onto the wooden plank and boarded the deck of the other ship.
At a glance, he immediately spotted the figure standing at the prow—Sakazuki.
In Shiryu's eyes, although this Vice Admiral Akainu was nearly a head taller than himself, the aura emanating from him was even more overpowering than Magellan's.
This made Shiryu's mood slightly heavier, and his expression had already turned serious.
"Reporting, Vice Admiral Akainu. Former Head Jailer of Impel Down, now Navy Headquarters Colonel—Shiryu, reporting for duty."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Sakazuki slowly turned around, arms crossed over his chest. His oppressive gaze swept across the man before him.
"As the Head Jailer of Impel Down, responsible for watching over prisoners, what's your view on pirates? Speak."
Shiryu instinctively mulled over his intentions. His understanding of Sakazuki was limited to what had been written in the newspapers—his candidacy for admiral and his Logia-type Magma-Magma Fruit. As for his personality, likes, or dislikes, Shiryu knew nothing.
Given that, he chose to answer honestly.
"Trash. All of them. Aside from the Devil Fruit users, the rest aren't even worth locking up—they're just wasting food. If we really must make use of the garbage, then we might as well use them as target dummies or practice dummies for swordsmanship."
Sakazuki raised an eyebrow. Though his expression remained unreadable, he was inwardly pleased. He had been ready to toss this man overboard to swim back to Marineford for reassignment if he turned out to be some soft-hearted type.
"Not bad. I hope you can follow through on those words," he said. Then he turned to a waiting marine nearby and gave an order: "Set sail!"
"Yes, sir!"
The marine promptly dashed below deck to relay the command. Moments later, the massive vessel beneath them began to move.