最上の政の武器は,恐怖そのものである.残虐は敬意を従わせる.民は我らを憎もう.されど,我らは愛など求めぬ.ただ畏怖のみを求める.
Impel Down did not howl. It pulsed. A heart too large and too deep to ever stop beating.
The Greatest Prison in the world. It seemed almost alive.... Indeed.
Saint Zenka arrived in the halls of Impel down without an escort. She did not ask permission from the Chief Warden. Her presence was not announced.
And yet, every floor is prepared.
Guards straightened their postures. Some broke into cold sweats. Others prayed.
Chief Warden Bengal met her at the top of the descent platform. His uniform was flawless, his medals polished, but his hand trembled slightly as he saluted. Hoping for a Miracle which will make this visit already over.
"Saint Zenka. We didn't expect your holy presence...."
"I expect Level Six to be unlocked," she said with a cruel smile.
Bengal swallowed. "Yes. Of course. Right away."
She didn't wait, or better... they wouldn't dare to make her wait. Level Six was never quiet. But today, it held its breath.
The worst criminals in the world, monsters of war, collapsed lords and traitors to thrones which most of whom had Devil fruit powers, watched as Zenka moved between their cells with the elegance of royalty and the interest of a butcher selecting cuts.
"This one," she said, gesturing toward a blindfolded man in chains, "is too warm. Deny him temperature. Then deny him memory. Alternate between screams and silence. Use barbed wire to bleed him slowly. He will break in four days."
"Yes, Saint Zenka," Bengal muttered beside her.
"You indulge them," she said, as if scolding a servant.
"M-My apologies, your holiness! It's just....We... We don't want to..."
"Hah! Compassion! That's not how this works, Chief Warden. You must make them forget they were ever dangerous," she scoffed.
The guard beside her, a young one, was silent. Watching. Eyes wide. body trembling.
Zenka stopped in front of a cell that reeked of urine and madness.
"He killed three jailers," Bengal said nervously. "Bite the last one's throat open."
Zenka tilted her head. "Do you know why he bit instead of screaming?"
Bengal blinked. "I---I don't follow"
"Because he still believes he's human. Because he believes in his strength. Break the delusion. Shave him bald. Remove his teeth. Replace his name with a number. Half his rations for every incident he causes. Let him rot with his legend erased."
"…Yes, Saint Zenka." They continued. Each cell brought new horrors and new insights from her.
"Level Five's layout is inefficient," she said offhandedly. "Soundproofing bleeds into Four. It confuses the minds of newer inmates. Consider isolating it with frost."
Bengal's face had begun to pale.
She stopped again. This time, in front of an older prisoner. Quiet. Still.
"Do you remember me, Victor Wukk?" she asked.
The prisoner smiled faintly. "You were smaller. Eyes were colder then."
Zenka regarded him. "You told me pain was purification. That fear was your gospel."
"I was wrong," he said.
She stared a moment longer. Then turned to Bengal. "Cut out his tongue. He doesn't deserve mercy! I want to see him crying until he is utterly broken!"
Bengal hesitated. Only for a second.
"Yes....Yes..., your holy.... highness." he bit his tongue while saying it.
At the lift, Zenka paused.
A junior officer stood to the side, silent since she'd arrived.
Magellan. Very young. Observant. Quiet. But more than that, curious. He hadn't blinked once during the entire descent. His gaze followed Zenka like a student watching a living equation. She disturbed him, but he couldn't look away. There was method beneath the malice, structure within the cruelty. And somewhere in it all, something almost… admirable. This is a Prison after all....
She looked at him. "You can listen," she said approvingly
He didn't speak. Didn't nod. But her words echoed in his mind.
She stepped into the lift. And finally left.
Bengal turned away, bile rising. His vision blurred, his uniform collar suddenly too tight. He had managed wars, mass executions, riots in fire and blood. But this, this was different. Saint Zenka's presence itself is way too suffocating. It's like...like Grim Reaper watching him and holding its sickle near his throat. Also, the prison bent itself around her presence.
And in that moment, Bengal understood: he was no longer the Chief Warden here. More like a sheep waiting for its own slaughter.
He vomited into his gloves. By sunset, his resignation letter was filed.
...
..
.
Impel Down docks
Zenka boarded the vessel before dawn.
She stood alone at the prow, the ocean's wind teasing the ends of her cloak. Beneath her boots, the deck trembled. The sky was grey. The waters ahead are darker still.
She watched the sea not with serenity, but calculation. It's patterns. It's endlessness. It's indifference. Once, long ago, she'd imagined drowning here, drowning, not dying. Floating endlessly under the weight of the world she could never serve. That was before the experiments. Before the blade. Before the sleep that lasted years.
Zenka closed her eyes. Not to remember. To forget just enough to function.
When Cipher Pol 0 Officer Mikaels arrived, he didn't salute. He bowed. Eyes on the floor.
"You sail early, Saint Zenka."
"I'm not known for waiting."
Mikaels was trained to maintain composure. He had stood before many dangerous beings. But standing near her, he felt that unnatural presence. sometimes fluctuates between calm and chaos. he felt the air thin. He looks at her face, carefully. Her profile was perfectly still, carved in grace, but her eyes... they didn't rest....
And he knew what she had been.
She had been kept in stasis for nearly six years after the Abyss Cell breach. Had torn through security measures that cost billions. The Gorosei had fought her once, actually fought her, and barely contained the outcome. Even now, drugs were cycled through her bloodstream to dull the worst of Soul Edge's whispers.
He handed her a sealed dossier, black with red trim. The contents weren't surprising.
"Your target: Byrnndi World. Fugitive. Active insurgent with a long record of defiance against World Government authority. Currently hiding in the fog belts of the Florian Triangle."
Zenka flipped the dossier open. Photographs. Maps. A brief psychological profile. World was ageing, scarred, yet dangerous still.
"Alive?" she asked without looking up.
Mikaels hesitated. "The Gorosei were indifferent. Dead or Alive, it's the result that matters."
Zenka smiled without warmth. "Then I'll keep him breathing. A message lasts longer when it can scream."
He paused. "Agents will observe the mission. Discreetly."
"I'd expect nothing less."
"Any... requests?"
Zenka tucked the folder under one arm. "Just the fog. I want it thick. I don't need a prolonged chase today".
By nightfall, they reached the edge of the Triangle.
The world dimmed. The sea lost colour. Fog thickened... The escort ship creaked with each passing swell. No birds. No stars visible. Just drifting wrecks and the hushed weight of stories long dead. Zenka stood motionless. Her crew, six men from CP0 unit, were silent, as instructed. She hadn't spoken since leaving port. They didn't dare break the quiet. One of them spotted lights through the mist.
"Ship. Starboard. Small and fast."
Zenka didn't move. "Intercept. Quietly."
They closed in.
The enemy vessel was a sleek cutter, repurposed with makeshift armour and oars. A flare ignited mid-deck as the ships locked. It wasn't a signal. It was a challenge.
Byrnndi World stood at the bow. He was in his mid-thirties, weathered but far from worn down. His coat was ragged, his face a storm of scars earned from raids and stubborn survival. He wasn't an old pirate clinging to glory. He was a predator in his prime, smarter now than he'd been in his reckless youth. And his eyes, sharp, cruel, calculating....missed nothing.
"Well, well," he called, voice hoarse. "Didn't think the government dogs would send a Dragon."
Zenka said nothing.
World grinned. "You gonna kill me? Or just scare me into pissing myself by your celestial dragon status!?¨Admirals?! Bring it on!!! I'm not scared!!!!"
She stepped onto his ship. The fight wasn't long. Two of World's men drew pistols.
One fired. Zenka blurred, Rokushiki techniques rippling like silk.
Bones broke. Blood sprayed. The rest didn't move. Byrnndi roared, stomping one foot down hard. A pulse erupted from his body, warping the air.
"DIE! MOA MOA POWER!" he screamed.
A massive cannonball beside him tripled in size mid-air, coated in an invisible distortion field, the power of his Moa Moa no Mi. He launched it with a makeshift rail cannon built into the deck.
Zenka didn't flinch. As the projectile screamed toward her like a meteor, she analysed its arc.
"Crude technique. Amateur work. Also, lacking focus and poor aim."
Her right hand shot out, black with Armament Haki. The cannonball halted midair, shrieked under pressure, and collapsed into shards at her feet. World's grin faded. He tried to backpedal, hand slipping toward a secondary weapon, Zenka was already in front of him.
She grabbed him by the collar and slammed him to the deck. He looked up at her, coughing blood. struggling to get up, yet some invisible power is holding him down. Now powerless, Realising. A spark of regret defying the world too early. But his pride won't allow show weakness!
"Why won't you kill me!?" He screamed again. Slowly getting up. with a snail's pace.
"No," she said. "But I'll make you wish I had." She bound him, arms together. Her heel clad in armament haki, piercing his hands.
"ARGGGGGG!!!!!"
Then she stepped to the side, pulled a cloth from her inner coat, and calmly wiped blood from her gloves, like brushing dust from silk.
From the shadows of the fog, on a seemingly hidden ship not so far away. Two Cipher Pol agents watched through scopes. Fog obscures their vision, yet seeing enough. Neither spoke for some time.
"Huff....as expected, and she didn't draw her sword," one whispered. Goosebumps on his arm.
The other nodded slowly and calmly.
"She didn't need to. If...."
Back aboard Zenka's vessel, World was shackled, drugged, and stored in the brig. Zenka returned to the prow. Mikaels greeted her with a note of caution. "The observers confirmed success. Pleased."
"Then they should sleep well tonight." She gazed at the moon, now partially visible.
"You didn't use the blade." Mikaels nervously asked. completely forgetting honorifics, which can even cost his life.
Zenka's gaze didn't shift.
"You don't bring a guillotine to a rodent problem." She turned away. Going slowly to her cabin. But before going, she murmured something....
"If I'd drawn it, you wouldn't be reporting back."
Mikaels said nothing. He remembered the reports. What it took to put her down last time. The weeks the Gorosei needed to recover. He couldn't decide if her restraint was mercy or control, or if she was simply bored.