Redfield's half-amused, half-mocking words hung in the air, and the expressions of the gathered criminals warped into something ugly and eager. Eyes glittering with malice, they fixed on Darren like wolves catching the scent of blood.
To prevent escapes, Impel Down's Seastone shackles were forged from ultra-high-purity Seastone. Even monsters whose names alone made nations tremble would be stripped down to little more than the ability to breathe and crawl through the day once those cuffs snapped shut.
If this brat really put them on, they'd give him a welcome he'd never forget.
Maybe they wouldn't dare kill him outright—yet—but they'd at least settle accounts for the beating they'd just taken.
The only question was simple.
Did he dare?
With those heavy cuffs, he wouldn't just be sealing his Devil Fruit. He'd be shackling himself into weakness, gifting them an opening on a silver platter—laying his throat on the block.
"Absolutely not!"
Before Darren could even speak, Magellan blurted it out.
He hurried over, sweat pouring down his face as he planted himself at Darren's side. "This is Redfield's scheme, Darren-sensei! He's trying to trick you into weakening yourself so he can kill you and escape! You can't act rashly!"
Darren shot him an irritated look and waved him off. "Do you think I didn't consider that?"
The hopeful gleam in the prisoners' eyes died on the spot.
Damn it. He's not falling for it.
Magellan froze, then the realization hit him. Of course. If even I can see what Redfield's doing, how could Darren-sensei miss it? I was worrying over nothing.
Relief surged through him, and he let out a long breath.
Then Darren grinned.
"I'm fine."
Thud.
Magellan collapsed backward onto the floor, staring up at him with wide, incredulous eyes.
Wait—didn't you just say you'd considered it?!
Across the corridor, dead hope sparked back to life in a hundred pairs of eyes.
Is this kid serious?
They immediately looked to Redfield, anticipation burning so bright it was almost pathetic.
"Oh?" Redfield's brows lifted. A slow smile spread across his face. "You're sure? You truly believe I wouldn't take the chance to kill you the moment Seastone locks you down?"
He tilted his head, voice calm and sharp.
"You should know better than anyone—if I eliminate you, no one in Impel Down can stop me from leaving."
"And don't forget. We're enemies. I have no obligation to teach you anything."
Darren shrugged. "Usually, the ones who ask that sort of question are the least likely to do it. The ones who act calm—or rush—are the ones already moving."
Redfield stared at him, momentarily at a loss.
Annoying as it was, the brat's logic wasn't entirely wrong.
He let out a dry chuckle. "I didn't think you'd see through me that easily."
Then he tossed the shackles at Darren.
Clang!
Cold, heavy metal struck the ground.
"I have no interest in killing you," Redfield said, gesturing toward the restless crowd with a faintly mocking smile. "But they might."
A collective twitch rippled through the criminals' faces.
Just as their nerves reached a fever pitch—
Clang.
A dull, final sound.
Magellan's eyes widened, the color draining from his face. "It's over…"
The prisoners turned.
And what they saw made their jaws hang slack.
"What…?"
"No way…"
"He's insane…"
"Is he trying to die?"
"He actually…"
"He shackled himself…!"
Darren rose slowly.
Locked black Seastone cuffs hung from his wrists, clanking softly as they knocked together.
"They're welcome to try killing me…" A smile spread across his face—sharp enough to cut. His gaze swept over them, and a chill crawled up spines all along the corridor. "…if they can manage it."
Then he walked deeper into Eternal Hell, like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Come on. There's more room over here."
Clang. Clang.
The sound of Seastone followed him with every step.
And as the criminals watched those steady, sure strides—no wobble, no weakness, no sign of collapse at all—the hunger in their eyes faltered.
Uneasy glances traded back and forth.
"How…? How is he not affected?"
"Impossible. He has to be weakened."
"He's a Devil Fruit user!"
"Then why don't you go first?"
"Bullshit—why don't you?!"
"Didn't you say you'd be the first to kill him? Want to escape or not?"
"…I'll wait a little."
...
Then—
"Tch. Useless cowards!"
A jeering voice cut through the murmurs. A hulking brute pushed out of the crowd.
"If none of you have the guts, I'll take his head myself! Hahahahaha!"
He moved faster than he looked, closing the distance in a single stride. His leg—hardened with Armament Haki—came down like an axe on Darren's skull.
"Battle Axe: Shatter!"
Eyes widened.
The next instant—
Clang!
Metal rang. Sparks burst.
The brute froze, blank-faced, as if his mind couldn't process what had just happened.
Darren turned slowly, untouched.
Terror flooded the man's eyes.
"Th-that…"
Clang-clatter.
Seastone rattled.
A large, shackled hand filled his vision.
And then—
Boom!
His head smashed into the ground.
The impact was sickening. Flesh and bone burst like an overripe fruit, spraying red and white across the floor.
Crack… crack…
A ten-meter radius of stone around Darren collapsed into dust.
Silence.
Dead, absolute stillness.
Clatter… clatter…
Only the soft, steady sound of Seastone cuffs clicking as Darren straightened.
He shook the blood from his hand and let his gaze drift over the remaining prisoners.
Magellan could only stare as those arrogant, scheming monsters abruptly turned and stampeded back into their own cells—slamming the doors shut as if the devil himself had walked into their hallway.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The echo of iron doors thundered through Eternal Hell.
Magellan: "..."
Even Redfield—worldly, unshakable Redfield—couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching. Exasperation creased his brow.
To be continued...