I was stuck inside a cell, so I couldn't see the moment we passed through the Gates of Justice, but I could vaguely tell we were crossing the Calm Belt.
Through Observation Haki, I sensed quite a few Sea Kings, their presences rising from below the hull, deep within the ocean.
When you're wearing Seastone, your strength drains the instant you try to exert it, so Armament Haki and Conqueror's Haki are out of the question. But Observation Haki is more connected to the mind, so in a relaxed state, I can use it to some degree. That's probably what made it possible.
After waiting a while longer, I was brought out of the cell and stepped under open sky for the first time in days.
What immediately caught my eye was a structure with just its top portion protruding above the sea, roughly cylindrical, and you could imagine it extending far, far larger beneath the surface. So this was the deep-sea Great Prison, Impel Down... or at least its entrance. Naturally, it was my first time seeing it.
Not just the warship I'd arrived on, but several others were moored around the area. Security was formidable, as expected.
Led by Vice Admiral Gion and her subordinates, I crossed the pier still in handcuffs and a hospital gown, and a group wearing the uniforms of Impel Down's guards was waiting for us.
"Thank you for the escort, Vice Admiral Gion. I am Domino, Vice Head Guard of Impel Down."
"Vice Head Guard, huh. They sent someone fairly high-ranking to greet us."
"Yes. This is, after all, a special prisoner of considerable significance to the Government. Now then, we will take custody of the prisoner."
'Already being called a "prisoner," huh,' I thought as I was handed over, Seastone cuffs and trailing chain and all, from Marine to guard. Domino and Vice Admiral Gion exchanged a few more words, then parted ways. The Vice Admiral and the rest of the Marines headed back to the warship.
And so the guards led me into Impel Down.
Behind me, the drawbridge rose, and the sound of the barred gate closing rang out with an oppressive weight. It slowed my pace just a little, and a guard yanked the chain on my cuffs, snapping "Move it!" at me. I felt like a dog being dragged along on a walk it never asked for.
***
Once inside, we proceeded down a corridor, passed through yet another barred door, and beyond that came the body inspection.
There, I was made to strip off every stitch of clothing. Not just clothes, either; even the bandages wrapped around me for treatment were all removed. Probably to make sure nothing was smuggled in, but still. Thorough.
Then, every inch of my body was examined. Not just the outside but the inside too, from top to bottom. My mouth, through my hair, under my arms, beneath my breasts, between my legs... every visible part, all of it, meticulously checked. Some parts were even spread open for inspection, which, I'll admit, was more than a little embarrassing.
And the whole thing was done right in the middle of a corridor, not in a private room. Apparently there's no need for that kind of consideration when it comes to prisoners.
The one small mercy was that the hands-on checking, the pulling and lifting and spreading, was performed by Domino, a woman. But the male guards were standing right there the whole time, so it was embarrassing regardless. And unless I was imagining things, a few of them were smirking.
There are limits to keeping a poker face. Apparently a bit of expression slipped through, because Domino, seeing it, laughed softly.
"Give up on not being seen by the guards. This isn't the kind of place that makes allowances for whether a prisoner is a man or a woman. Besides, you're actually lucky."
"?"
"You were escorted here alone. Normally, all prisoners are lined up in a row and inspected at once. If you'd been with male prisoners, you would have been stared at the entire time, from the moment you took your clothes off until the inspection was over and you could dress again."
"Ah... that's what you mean..."
Yeah, that would definitely be awful.
Nothing lost in the physical sense, sure, but the feeling is still rotten.
The body inspection was finished, but I wasn't allowed to get dressed just yet.
Slam! SPLASH!!
"Hot! Hothothooooot...!!"
The "baptism" I'd read about in the Original Work was waiting for me.
Still naked, I was marched to the far end of the corridor, where a massive cauldron sat filled with scalding boiling water. They shoved me in.
I was telling them I'd get in on my own, but they didn't bother waiting and pushed me in anyway.
Commonly known as "Hell's Lukewarm Bath." A baptism doubling as sterilization and disinfection, just like the Original Work said.
Normally this is where you'd be screaming in agony. Apparently the big-name prisoners like Ace and Jinbe endure it without so much as a twitch, making a dignified "entrance" into prison. But that was beyond me.
Still, I managed not to wail or thrash too dramatically. My reaction was more like gritting my teeth through an uncomfortably hot bath.
...Before coming here, I'd been continuously exposed to heat far worse than boiling water. Compared to Magma, a hundred degrees was surprisingly bearable.
You never know what experiences in life will end up working in your favor. Not that I was remotely happy about it.
...Phew. Okay. Getting used to it now.
Let's think positive. I hadn't been able to bathe for days while in that cell, so I should be grateful for the chance to wash off the sweat.
When the call came that I was done, I climbed out, and Domino handed me a towel, if you could even call it that. More like a shabby rag. I dried myself off with it.
She told me it was impressive enough that I didn't scream and flail around.
After that, I was finally allowed to get dressed.
The black-and-white horizontally striped prisoner uniform. Comfort-wise, neither good nor bad.
Of course, the entire time, Domino and the other guards kept watching.
***
After that, I figured I'd be taken to a cell, but that's not what happened.
I was loaded onto a lift and taken down, down, down, to an incredibly hot floor. Level 4. That's where we got off.
And where they led me was the Warden's Office. Waiting there was, naturally, the master of this room and the Boss of this prison.
"Welcome, Pirate Literary Master. I am Magellan. I serve as Chief Warden of this prison."
Chief Warden Magellan himself.
The imposing face and towering height aside, his very existence as a Poison-Poison Fruit Ability User was enough to make the many prisoners housed in this prison tremble in fear, the mere mention of his name enough to drain any will to resist. Standing face to face with him, I had to admit, the sheer pressure was something else.
"Now then, first..."
I was wondering why such a Monster had bothered to summon me here when Magellan extended something toward me.
It was...
"...?"
'...A book and a pen? Wait, is this... my book?!'
A spinoff of Sora, Warrior of the Sea that I'd written quite a while ago: "Tears of the Purple Poison Princess." There it was, a collected volume, along with a single pen.
Wait, what? What is this about?
Those feelings must have shown on my face as I looked up in bewilderment, because Magellan, unless I was mistaken, looked just the tiniest bit embarrassed as he said:
"...Can I have your autograph?"
"What are you doing, Chief Warden?!"
A perfectly timed retort came from a half-naked man in the corner of the room wearing a pharaoh-like Egyptian headdress. Oh, he was here. Hannyabal, the Vice Warden.
So, Magellan-san... you were a fan of mine?
And you even bought the book. Thank you.
Um, is "To Magellan-san" okay? ...Here you go.
Now then, pulling ourselves together.
Chief Warden Magellan, whose expression hadn't changed yet somehow radiated unmistakable giddiness, carefully placed the signed book on a shelf as if displaying a treasure. Then he turned back to face me.
The atmosphere shifted. Serious now. It seemed the main topic was about to begin.
"Now then... it may seem contradictory after asking for your autograph, but I make it a principle not to mix public and private matters. Do not expect any special treatment in this prison. Whatever you were in the outside world, here, every prisoner is treated equally. You will never see the sky of the free world again, spending your days in fear of torture and execution... That is how it would normally be."
"...!"
"Pirate Literary Master Sue... you have been given a chance to escape that fate. I believe Vice Admiral Gion already spoke to you about this aboard the warship during your escort..."
"If you're talking about becoming the Government's propaganda tool, I've already declined. And I have no intention of changing my mind."
"Even after hearing what I just told you? If you don't agree here, what awaits you is an endless stretch of suffering so terrible that death itself would seem like a mercy."
"Even so... 'writing what I want to write, the way I want to write it' is my creed. I will never bend on that, even if it kills me."
I looked him straight in the eyes and said it clearly.
What Magellan was saying was no bluff. If I didn't agree, I'd be thrown into a cell, and what awaited me wouldn't just be confinement but days of brutal torture and worse.
Honestly, I was absolutely terrified. For once, even I couldn't frame this as a "rare experience" or "ultra-rare Experience Material," couldn't spin it positively as field research. That was a bit too much of a stretch.
But even so. I became a writer to write what I want to write. That's the only reason I've put pen to paper for these twenty years.
Bending on that, as I just said, was something I would never do, even at the cost of my life.
That alone was no bravado, no front. It was my honest, unvarnished truth.
Magellan watched me in silence after I said my piece. After a moment, he sighed.
"That stubbornly honest conviction of yours... honestly, on a personal level, it's something I don't dislike. As a fan, I'd even go so far as to commend it. However, the problem is no longer something so simple."
"...Meaning?"
"It's no longer a matter where individual beliefs have any relevance. ...Wait a moment."
With that, Magellan walked over to his desk and...
"Why are you sitting there, Hannyabal?"
"No problem at all, it'll be mine eventually anyway, so I figured I'd get comfortable while I... 'Haaaaaah...' Owowow! Gas! Poison Gas! You bastard, stop it, I'm dying... gurgh...!"
Having forcibly evicted the Vice Warden (ambitious type) from his unlawful occupation of the desk, and with staff carrying the man to the corner of the room in a practiced manner, Magellan opened the drawer as if nothing had happened.
What he took out was several books.
"Did you know, Pirate Literary Master? Over the past few years, in several countries... there has been a modest but significant shift in policy regarding a certain area."
"?"
"These countries had all adopted policies or stances that mistreated elderly people who could no longer work. They reasoned that the old, who couldn't contribute labor like the young and instead burdened younger generations with expense and effort, were dead weight to the nation."
...Doesn't that sound familiar?
Specifically, the island where I met my eldest daughter... or rather, the country that island technically belonged to as territory. Yeah, that kind of ideology existed there.
"No one could stop it, or in some cases, no one even thought to try. The elderly in those countries had been treated that way for a long time. However ethically questionable it might appear, no other nation could object to what was being carried out as that country's 'domestic policy.' But a few years ago, something happened that changed everything."
Magellan walked toward me and held out the books he'd just taken from the desk.
They were picture books.
The title: "Ubasute Yama."
"These are all your works, correct?"
"They are, but... what about them?"
"Over the past few years, this picture book spread across the world, published by various publishers in various regions. Each of them can be summarized as conveying the moral lesson that 'the elderly should be cherished.' And in the years since these books entered circulation and began being used as educational materials for children... several of the countries I mentioned have softened or entirely abolished their policies of mistreating the elderly. The belief that 'the elderly should be cherished' took root at the public level, and dissatisfaction with policies that disregarded this grew."
"That's... good to hear."
"It is not something that can be dismissed with those few words. ...Do you understand what you have done?"
Still holding the books, Magellan addressed me in a deadly serious tone.
"Ethical considerations aside, a deeply entrenched policy that had existed in those countries for ages was overturned in just a few years. And the cause was clearly this single book, a single 'set of values' that spread from this one volume. The words you wrote accomplished that."
"Oh come on, that's a huge exaggeration..."
"It is absolutely not an 'exaggeration.' Do you have any idea how monumental it is to change a 'national policy' that others wanted to change but couldn't, no matter how they tried? Let alone changing the very 'values' held by the majority of a nation's people? Frankly, even I can barely imagine it, and it still hasn't fully sunk in. But there is no question that you did it. Without a single sword, without a single bullet, without spilling a single drop of blood... you brought about the abolition of long-standing injustices in multiple countries."
"..."
"You yourself seem to have absolutely no awareness of it, but let me be blunt. Your words carry that much influence. This fact proves it."
Just as Magellan said, I had no such awareness.
But Magellan was dead serious, and even though he spoke quietly, the Spirit behind his words felt even more intense than before.
"There's an old saying: 'The pen is mightier than the sword.' In this Great Pirate Era, an age where violence speaks loudest, it's a phrase that tends to be dismissed. But you... your very existence embodies that saying."
Several of the guards standing along the wall, perhaps intimidated by Magellan's demeanor, or perhaps by the content of what he was saying, audibly gulped.
"Whether you're aware of it or not, whether you intend to use it or not... it no longer matters. Without metaphor or exaggeration, your words have the power to move the world! And that power must not be wielded thoughtlessly or without order. It should be used for the sake of the world, not to throw it into chaos!"
"...So you're telling me to take orders from the Government from now on and write nothing but stories that serve their interests?"
"Great power, and those who possess it, always bear a responsibility commensurate with that power. A power that can move people's hearts with a single pen, that can turn the future into either hope or despair... its use must never, ever be mistaken. The World Government can guide it correctly. That would be best for you as well..."
"N. O. T. A. C. H. A. N. C. E."
"...!"
"I've been sitting here listening patiently while you say whatever the hell you want. Talking about me and the books I write like I'm some nasty Weapon or something... you must really want to piss me off."
"...That was not my intention. However, 'nasty Weapon' is rather apt, I'd say. In the sense that mishandling it could produce untold tragedy, it is exactly right."
"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't sit around thinking about that kind of crap when I write. I don't write books to change the world. I write because I want people to read stories that I think are interesting. I want them to read my work, enjoy it, feel happy. I don't think about anything beyond that, and I don't want to. And I sure as hell won't start now."
"Even if the result is untold tragedy? Even if those very readers you claim to care about could be made unhappy by your stories?"
"If you start going down that road, there's no end to it. Take a kitchen knife. It can be a cooking utensil or a murder weapon, and that's entirely up to the person holding it. What someone picks up and what they use it for, how they feel and how they interpret it, that's for the person holding it to decide."
"Don't resort to extreme arguments! Are you saying you intend to abandon your responsibility as someone who wields this power, who has put this voice out into the world?"
"It's not extreme at all. Books are the perfect example! Whether something's interesting or boring, whether you love it or hate it, whether you can relate to it or not, that varies from reader to reader! I know that full well, and I write anyway! Sure, some people out there probably find my stories boring, and I'd be lying if I said that doesn't hurt. But that's how it is. That's what books are!"
This is just my personal view, but if you have a hundred readers, there is no work in existence that all hundred of them will receive in exactly the same way and find equally entertaining.
One person reads a work and finds it fascinating. Another finds it dull.
One person loves it. Another can't stomach it.
One person tears through the whole thing and thinks, 'I can't wait for the next one.' Another reads partway and thinks, 'Yeah, I'm done,' and puts it down.
One person would happily pay money to read it. Another thinks even the time spent reading was wasted.
A hundred people, a hundred different reactions. Different feelings. Different levels of passion.
That's what books are.
And that's fine.
A writer putting words on paper, text that no one has laid eyes on yet, that alone doesn't complete a book. Only when people read it and form their own feelings about it does it become complete.
Creating a book, to me, includes everything, right down to how each reader feels about it. So even if a reader takes away something I never intended, even if someone comes away thinking something entirely different from what I wanted to convey, that's just how it goes. For that reader, that became the "completion" of that book.
I can't control where it leads, can't control what readers think after they read it. I don't want to. I shouldn't.
And what actions they take afterward? That's not something a writer should be worrying about.
All I do is put to paper the stories I want to tell. All I do is take the most incredible fantasies inside me, turn them into words, and share them with the world.
I have no intention of loading anything else into my writing. No matter what anyone says, I will never change that.
Now and forever, that is the way of the Pirate Literary Master.
"..."
Magellan listened to everything I had to say without a word. After a stretch of silence:
"...I see. That is unfortunate."
He said it simply, then put the books back in the desk.
Settling into his chair, he glanced at Domino and the guards standing along the wall.
"Take her away."
"Yes, sir!"
At the command, Domino came to my side, took hold of the chain extending from my cuffs, and led me out of the room.
Over my shoulder, Magellan's voice reached me, added almost as an afterthought.
"If you cannot accept the offer, then there is nothing to be done. You will be treated the same as any ordinary prisoner. If you intend to retract your refusal, do so sooner rather than later... before you're left with scars that will never heal."
Those were the last words I heard before being led out. The door of the Warden's Office shut behind me with a heavy sound.
And just like that, I was finally taken to the cell that would become mine.
To be continued...