For a while, Zaraki said nothing.
The harbor wind moved between him and the three Marines standing in front of him, carrying the smell of salt, smoke, paper, and the faint stench of blood from the unconscious Crocodile lying on the dock.
Smoker stood with two cigars clamped between his teeth, his face hard and unreadable, though the smoke drifting around him was more uneven than usual.
Isuka remained half a step behind him, her glasses catching the light as her fingers rested against the hilt of her sword.
Farther back, Tashigi gripped Shigure with both hands as if the blade were the only thing keeping her from stepping forward too quickly.
They were waiting for an answer.
Sengoku was also waiting, though his expression made it clear that he already regretted allowing this conversation to happen in public.
Hina looked as if she wanted to grab Smoker by the collar and drag him away before his pride made him do something irreversible.
Garp, of course, was grinning like a man watching his favorite kind of trouble hatch right in front of him.
Zaraki looked at Smoker first.
Then Isuka.
Then Tashigi.
Finally, his gaze dropped to the Warlord invitation file in his hand, where the name Portgas D. Ace still sat like a spark waiting to fall into dry grass.
"Fine."
The word came out lazily.
Zaraki lifted the file and tapped it against his palm, his expression already returning to that careless annoyance which made people wonder whether he understood the weight of his own decisions.
"I'm going to Impel Down first. After that, I'm supposed to run around inviting pirates who probably won't listen unless I beat them half to death. If you want to come, come."
He turned slightly, his grin showing a hint of teeth.
"But I don't babysit. If you slow me down, I'll leave you behind. If you get in my way during a fight, I'll cut around you. If you die, don't expect me to write a report."
Smoker's mouth curved faintly around his cigar.
"That's enough."
Isuka exhaled softly, as though a weight had lifted from her chest, while Tashigi's shoulders trembled once before she straightened with desperate seriousness.
Hina stared at the three of them in disbelief, then slowly pressed one hand against her forehead.
"Hina cannot understand this," she muttered. "Hina came here to see Smoker off, not watch him voluntarily step into a disaster."
Smoker did not answer her.
Isuka only adjusted her glasses, and Tashigi looked guilty for exactly one second before clutching Shigure even more tightly.
Sengoku's expression had gone beyond anger and entered a dangerous calm.
"Zaraki," he said slowly, "you do understand that you do not currently possess an official detachment, correct?"
Zaraki looked at him.
"Then make one."
The silence that followed was so complete that even the seagulls overhead seemed to cry a little more quietly.
Garp slapped his thigh and burst into laughter.
"Bwahahaha! That's right, Sengoku! The people are already here, so just stamp the papers!"
Sengoku turned toward Garp with a look that could have sunk battleships.
"You are the last person I want to hear that from."
Garp only laughed harder.
In the end, the Fleet Admiral did what he had been doing ever since Zaraki crashed into Marineford's quiet order like a falling meteor: he compromised just enough to keep the damage moving in a direction he could still track.
The arrangement was written as temporary operational attachment under special observation authority.
Smoker would officially accompany the Impel Down escort as a Headquarters colonel assigned to prisoner-transfer security.
Isuka and Tashigi would join as support officers and witnesses connected to the Alabasta incident.
None of them were formally under Zaraki's command on paper, which meant that if anything went wrong, Sengoku could still pretend the structure had been reasonable before reality ruined it.
Zaraki did not care what the paper said.
Smoker did not care either.
That, in Sengoku's opinion, was exactly the problem.
..
Half a day later, the warship sailed into the Calm Belt.
The sea around them became unnaturally still, the waves flattening into a wide dark mirror while enormous shadows drifted beneath the surface.
Sea Kings moved below the hull like submerged mountains, their eyes occasionally breaking through the water to watch the passing ship with ancient, indifferent hunger.
Several younger Marines stood rigid near the railings, hands close to their weapons despite knowing full well that rifles would mean nothing if one of those monsters decided to rise.
None attacked.
Perhaps the warship's route had been approved through the World Government's special current.
Perhaps the Sea Kings sensed something aboard that made even them reluctant to treat the vessel as prey.
Whatever the reason, the ship crossed that silent stretch of sea without incident, and before long the horizon was swallowed by the enormous steel silhouette of the Gates of Justice.
The gates opened with a thunderous groan.
Beyond them, the water darkened further, and the air lost the last trace of warmth from the sun.
Impel Down rose from the sea like a prison built from nightmares and sunk into the world's throat.
Only the upper structure showed above the surface, a massive fortress of stone, steel, and iron authority, while the true body of the prison descended layer after layer beneath the ocean.
Even from the deck, the place gave off a pressure that made casual conversation die before it reached anyone's mouth.
Zaraki stood near the bow with his hands in his pockets.
The closer they came, the more the corner of his mouth lifted.
There was a smell here.
Not battlefield blood, fresh and hot and scattered across broken ground.
This was older and deeper.
Blood dried into stone, grudges sealed behind iron, the resentment of monsters who had roared at the world and then been buried where no one could hear them anymore.
His fingers brushed against Murasame's hilt.
'This place…'
The hunger inside him stirred.
'Interesting.'
When the ship docked at Impel Down's only harbor, a cold damp wind pushed against them.
It carried saltwater, rust, disinfectant, old wounds, and a heavy rotten pressure that seemed to leak from the prison's walls.
Crocodile, bound from head to toe in seastone restraints, had regained enough consciousness during the journey to glare murderously at everyone nearby, but the moment the prison's aura washed over him, even that hatred sank beneath exhaustion.
Smoker dragged him down the gangway first.
Zaraki followed at an unhurried pace, his coat hanging loose over his shoulders.
Zoro came behind him with one hand on Wado Ichimonji, officially listed as a temporary auxiliary witness and unofficially present because Zaraki wanted to see whether the swordsman could keep his nerve under the pressure of the lower levels.
Nami, Sanji, and Carina had been forced to remain aboard under prison regulations, a decision that led to Nami loudly declaring that she would calculate emotional damages later.
Sanji had tried arguing on her behalf until one look at the prison gates made him decide that guarding the ship's kitchen might also be a noble duty.
Carina, meanwhile, had already begun asking the escort Marines whether Impel Down had a treasury, which made Bogard quietly assign two soldiers to watch her.
Isuka and Tashigi stepped off behind Smoker to handle the transfer documentation, both of them trying very hard to look professional while their eyes kept drifting toward the prison entrance.
Two men waited on the pier.
The first was broad and imposing, with demon-like wings, a horned hat, and a face gloomy enough to match the fortress behind him.
A faint poisonous aura clung to his body, thin and purple, the kind of thing one noticed only after realizing every jailer nearby had instinctively given him extra space.
Chief Warden Magellan.
Behind him stood Hannyabal, the Vice Warden, his posture upright and eager in the way of a man who believed ambition became invisible if he smiled politely enough.
The moment Zaraki stepped onto the pier, Magellan's eyes narrowed.
The young Marine's presence did not spread wildly. It did not crash against the surroundings in an obvious display.
Yet the air around him felt sharpened, as if something savage had entered a place already filled with chained monsters and found it pleasant.
Magellan's gaze moved from Zaraki to Crocodile.
Even after years in charge of Impel Down, he rarely saw prisoners arrive in such a condition before the prison had touched them.
The former Warlord's coat was torn, his body wrapped in rough bandages, his hook sealed separately, and his face swollen enough that the arrogance usually associated with Sir Crocodile had been reduced to a faint shadow.
Smoker threw the prisoner down before the waiting jailers.
"Sir Crocodile. Identity verified. Prisoner transfer confirmed."
Magellan studied Crocodile for a few seconds longer, then looked back at Zaraki.
"So you are the one who defeated him."
Zaraki grinned.
"He was tougher than he looks."
Hannyabal immediately stepped forward, unable to endure being ignored any longer.
"Welcome to Impel Down, Special Envoy Zaraki! I am Hannyabal, Vice Warden of this great prison, and in the future, when I become Chief Ward—"
"Shut up, Hannyabal."
Magellan cut him off without turning around.
Hannyabal froze with his mouth still open, his expression collapsing into wounded dignity.
Magellan kept his eyes on Zaraki.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku's order is to transfer Crocodile to Level Six, Eternal Hell. Before we proceed, I need to know whether he suffered any condition that might interfere with containment."
Zaraki thought about it.
"He got hit a lot."
Magellan waited.
Zaraki added, "He's still alive."
Smoker closed his eyes briefly.
"That is his complete medical summary," he said dryly.
Magellan's expression did not change, though the jailers behind him looked increasingly uneasy.
"Impel Down will conduct its own examination."
"Do whatever you want."
Zaraki's gaze had already moved past him, toward the enormous entrance behind the pier.
Something down there was calling to him.
Like the pressure of an entire buried world pressing upward through layers of stone and steel.
His blood began moving faster, and the soul of Kenpachi Zaraki inside him seemed to grin in answer.
Magellan noticed.
A faint trace of poison mist slipped from his shoulders, curling around his arms before sinking back into his body.
"This is Impel Down," he said. "Whatever desire to fight brought you this far, keep it under control while you are inside my prison."
Zaraki looked at him properly for the first time.
The Chief Warden's poisonous aura was no bluff.
The man was strong, dangerous in a way that had little to do with speed or swordsmanship, and every instinct in the jailers around him proved that his strength had been carved into this prison's daily order.
Zaraki's grin widened.
"You look pretty strong yourself."
The pier went still.
Zoro's fingers tightened around his hilt.
Smoker's smoke curled more densely around his shoulders.
Magellan's eyes sharpened, and for a few seconds purple venom seeped more visibly from his skin, hissing faintly as it touched the stone beneath his boots.
Then the poison receded.
Magellan turned toward the prison entrance.
"If you want to see monsters, follow me. If you want to fight one, wait until you are no longer standing at the front door with a prisoner transfer pending."
Zaraki laughed once under his breath.
"Fair enough."
They entered Impel Down.
The first gate closed behind them with a deep metallic boom that rolled through the corridor like the sound of a coffin lid sealing shut.
The temperature dropped at once.
The walls were damp, the stones dark, and the air so thick with restraint and old suffering that even ordinary footsteps seemed too loud.
The moment Zaraki crossed the threshold, a notification rang inside his mind.
[Ding.]
[Detected that the host has arrived at a world-class important coordinate: the Great Underwater Prison, Impel Down.]
[Special refresh mechanism triggered.]
[System shop updating…]
[Shop refresh complete. Host may check independently.]
Zaraki's steps slowed by half a beat.
'So important places can trigger refreshes too.'
The discovery made his eyes narrow with interest.
Marineford had changed his status.
Alabasta had thrown him into the World Government's attention.
Now Impel Down had triggered the system directly.
If the sea itself was a map of hidden thresholds, then every famous battlefield, prison, island, and forbidden place might be worth stepping into at least once.
He sank a strand of consciousness into the interface while continuing to walk.
The shop opened in pale blue light across his vision.
Most of the items were ordinary or strange in ways that did not matter.
Some were useful, some ridiculous, and one appeared to be a Marine-standard pillow marked as "high comfort," which Zaraki ignored with immediate contempt.
Then he saw the two golden items at the top.
[Advanced Armament Haki: Internal Destruction]
[Allows Armament Haki to penetrate into an object or enemy's body and destroy it from the inside, bypassing external defense.]
[Price: 80,000 points.]
[Top-Tier Conqueror's Haki Technique: Conqueror's Haki Coating]
[Allows Conqueror's Haki to be wrapped around one's body or weapon as though tangible, greatly increasing destructive power. A technique mastered only by a rare few kings.]
[Price: 100,000 points.]
Zaraki's face went blank.
Those were excellent items.
Far too excellent.
Then he looked at his remaining points.
[Remaining points: 18,500.]
For several seconds, his mood sank into a silence even darker than the prison corridor.
The system had placed a feast in front of him, then chained his hands behind his back.
A new line appeared beneath the shop.
[Insufficient points. Items may be locked for future purchase for 5,000 points each.]
Zaraki's mouth twitched.
Even keeping the meat on the table required payment.
After staring at the two golden items for a while, he still paid.
[Ding.]
[10,000 points deducted.]
[Remaining points: 8,500.]
[Two high-tier items locked for future purchase.]
Zaraki suddenly felt that Crocodile had been worth far too few points for the amount of trouble he caused.
At the front of the group, Magellan stopped and glanced back.
For an instant, he had sensed something shift in Zaraki's aura. It had been faint and buried deep, a predatory irritation that vanished almost as soon as it appeared.
When he looked, however, the young Marine was simply walking with a bored expression, as if the prison's architecture had failed to impress him.
Magellan said nothing.
His suspicion merely settled deeper.
They reached the intake area soon after.
Several massive jailers took Crocodile from Smoker and dragged him toward a steaming pool set into the stone floor.
The water inside churned violently, and the heat rising from it was strong enough to make Tashigi's face pale.
"That is the baptism," Hannyabal explained, eager to reclaim his role as guide. "Every prisoner entering Impel Down is disinfected in boiling water before processing. Criminals bring filth from the outside world, and our duty is to ensure that filth does not contaminate the great prison under my future—"
"Hannyabal," Magellan said.
The Vice Warden coughed and looked away.
Crocodile was thrown in.
His scream tore through the intake chamber.
Even Smoker frowned.
Zoro's expression barely changed, though his eye sharpened slightly.
Isuka and Tashigi both stiffened, their hands tightening near their swords despite knowing this was prison procedure.
Zaraki watched for a moment, then removed the gourd at his waist and took a drink.
The liquor burned down his throat, harsh enough to cut through the damp rot of the prison air.
"He's still got a good voice," he commented.
Smoker turned slowly toward him.
"You're enjoying this too much."
"I'm bored."
"That makes it worse."
After the baptism, Crocodile was dragged out barely conscious.
His seastone restraints were checked again, the golden hook sealed into a separate container, and the transfer continued.
They passed through heavy gates and entered a massive elevator.
As the platform began descending, the light from the entrance faded above them. Steel bars rattled softly.
The air grew colder, then warmer, then strangely damp, each layer carrying a different scent of punishment from below.
Magellan spoke like a guide reciting facts carved into the prison itself.
"Level One. Crimson Hell. The trees and grass are blades. Prisoners run until their blood empties onto the ground."
The elevator did not stop, but through the gaps in the iron frame, Zaraki saw a dark red forest far below. Thin slicing sounds drifted upward, followed by screams that had already lost the strength to become loud.
Smoker's jaw tightened.
He had arrested pirates who deserved no sympathy. He had seen murderers, traffickers, and monsters who treated civilians like objects.
Even so, Impel Down's cruelty felt different from a battlefield. A battlefield was chaos.
This place was organized suffering, layered carefully beneath the sea and maintained as law.
The elevator descended again.
"Level Two. Wild Beast Hell."
Roars replaced screams.
Massive shapes moved in the darkness, their hunger filling the air with a rough animal pressure.
Zoro, who had kept quiet for most of the descent, opened his eye slightly. His hand shifted on Wado Ichimonji, not from fear, but recognition.
That level contained no refined sword intent, yet the raw violence below was enough to stir his instincts.
"Level Three. Starvation Hell."
The air became dry and thin.
"Level Four. Blazing Hell."
Heat rose in waves, carrying the smell of fire, metal, and burned stone.
"Level Five. Freezing Hell."
Frost crept across the elevator bars.
By then, even Smoker's expression had grown grim. Tashigi's face was pale, though she forced herself to keep watching.
Isuka's lips had pressed into a thin line.
Zoro, on the other hand, looked more awake with every floor, as though each descent scraped another layer from the illusion that strength in the world had limits.
Near the final level, Magellan spoke again.
"Golden Lion Shiki was the only man in history to escape this prison. His escape stained Impel Down for more than twenty years."
His voice remained steady, but something complicated moved beneath it.
"The reports say you defeated him and returned with Oto and Kogarashi. Whether he is dead or merely missing, that result removed a thorn from the heart of every warden who has guarded this place."
He glanced at Zaraki.
"For that, on a personal level, I owe you some gratitude."
Hannyabal's eyes widened so much they nearly popped out.
He had followed Magellan for years and had never heard the Chief Warden speak that way to an outsider.
Zaraki only shook the liquor gourd lightly and listened to the last few drops slide around inside.
"Gratitude's boring."
Magellan's expression did not change.
Zaraki looked toward the darkness below, the curve of his mouth slowly returning.
"Tell me about Level Six."
For the first time since they entered the prison, the elevator felt truly silent.
Magellan looked at him for a long moment.
"Eternal Hell," he said. "The prisoners held there are monsters with bounties exceeding one hundred million, criminals whose names once shook countries, seas, and eras. Some possess crimes too heavy for public record. Some have been erased from history because the World Government decided their existence itself was dangerous."
The elevator sank deeper.
"For them, punishment is no longer the main purpose. Their names disappear. Their voices disappear. Their ambitions rot in darkness until death finishes what the prison began."
The elevator stopped.
Ahead of them, an unbelievably heavy gate began to open with a slow metallic groan.
No screams came from beyond it.
No roaring beasts.
No chains rattling in frenzy.
Only silence.
Then pressure rolled out from within that silence.
It was old, filthy, and dense, the accumulated resentment of monsters who had once believed the world belonged to them. Killing intent, hatred, madness, pride, and unwillingness had soaked into the air for years, gathering until even the act of breathing felt like inhaling the memory of violence.
Zaraki smiled, like a starving beast hearing the lock on a cage turn.
He drained the last mouthful of liquor from the gourd and stepped toward the open gate.
'That's right.'
His fingers closed around Murasame.
'This is the smell.'
The gate opened wider, revealing a darkness deeper than any level above.
Zaraki walked forward.
Only this kind of place deserved the name Eternal Hell!
---------
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