Author's Note:
This time... there's a bit of a digest-style torture montage near the beginning, but... it's not too intense, I think? No triple-star content this time. Also, several new characters make their appearance. Here's Chapter 156.
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Some more time passed, and I ended up being subjected to all sorts of different tortures.
Locked in a sealed room, forced to listen to nothing but deafening noise for hours on end.
Woken up every time I tried to sleep, kept awake for dozens of hours straight.
Bound not by my arms but by my fingers, left to endure the agony of feeling like they'd be torn right off.
Made to dig holes in the ground, then fill them back in, over and over again.
Arms tied, forced to sit on a wooden horse. (You might imagine that as some kind of erotic torture, but no, the edge just digs in and it's absolute agony.) Then having someone press down on my shoulders to make it dig in even more.
Left alone for hours in a pitch-black room with no light source whatsoever, deprived of any stimulation at all.
Made to clean up the corpses of prisoners who'd died during torture or execution, and to scrub the torture implements.
On top of all that, I was also subjected to upgraded versions of tortures I'd already experienced.
For Whipping, they'd use a more painful whip, and they started hitting not just my back but my behind as well. (Which naturally meant having my lower garments stripped off before each session. Completely naked.)
For suspension, they'd douse me with boiling water or slap me while I hung there.
I endured all manner of things, and somehow, I kept holding on.
Tortures that inflicted direct pain and suffering mixed with the kind that gouged at my psyche. My body was never free of fresh wounds. The agony persisted not just during the torture itself but long after I was released.
Lately, even after a full rest day in between, my wounds wouldn't heal, the pain and exhaustion wouldn't fully fade. I'd carry it all into the next session. That had become the norm.
I spent my days thinking this would stretch on endlessly into the future, caught between resolve and resignation, but...
'...Am I imagining things, or has my body been feeling a little... lighter lately?'
Something seemed to be... changing?
No, my mind and body still hurt and suffered as much as ever, but... it wasn't like before, when I'd break down screaming because I couldn't take it anymore. I was starting to be able to endure it.
The pain was the same, but I could suppress it, bear it. Swallow the screams instead of letting them out, or detach from the sensation entirely, keep it all off my face.
Not that enduring it made the torture itself any easier. If anything, when Sadi-chan noticed I wasn't screaming, or that my cries were too faint, she'd get annoyed. "You're not allowed to hold it in!" she'd say, and beat me even harder. So honestly, whether this was actually a good thing was... debatable.
If that were all, I might have just chalked it up to my mind and body inadvertently toughening up through constant exposure. Getting used to it. But on top of that, recently...
'My wounds are healing faster, and the pain and inflammation seem to subside more quickly too.'
I hadn't been precisely measuring time or duration, so this was purely a "seems like" impression, but... that's how it felt.
This wasn't something that could be explained by just "getting used to it," not given how the human body works.
Sure, it's common enough for your body to change through repeated training and such. Practice swinging a sword and the skin on your hands gets tougher, thicker. That kind of change happens normally.
But while that sort of thing can make you "harder to injure," actually "healing faster from injuries" is... not really something I'd heard of.
Was this the One Piece World, where even that could happen through "getting used to it"?
Or maybe I'd simply been toughened up and was harder to hurt now, so even though things looked the same on the surface, the injuries were actually less severe than before.
And as a result, the pain faded faster and the wounds appeared to heal more quickly.
...Or maybe...
'All this "torture" has been acting as a stimulus, and the Superhuman factor sleeping inside my body is starting to awaken again...?'
The scary part was how plausible that sounded. In that particular field, my Mama was apparently quite the authority, to say the least. And during training with Papa, there had already been signs of it happening.
If that guess was right, and my body was once again trying to undergo a major reconstruction...
'A blessing in disguise, a silver lining in misfortune... maybe. But it's not all good news. When your constitution changes rapidly, it burns through a lot of energy in the process. If it were just becoming sturdier, that'd be one thing, but of all the times for this to happen...'
In the sweltering heat, I wiped the sweat from my brow with my sleeve, blowing out a breath as I thought this.
Perhaps frustrated that torture still hadn't changed my mind, they'd recently moved me to a different cell.
From Level 2, Beast Hell, to Level 3, Starvation Hell.
My Bounty had originally been over fifty million, so in a sense this was just returning me to where I technically belonged, but... minimal water, minimal food, and this heat. It was brutal. Just existing in the cell was torture in itself.
One look at the surrounding prisoners, emaciated to the bone, looking more like they were shriveling up than simply thin, made it painfully clear what this kind of life eventually led to.
At this rate, far from growing stronger, I'd waste away, losing weight and stamina.
It could end up even worse than when I'd spent nearly a year in Mary Geoise without being able to train, and my physical condition had dropped sharply.
Worse still, if the nutrition my body demanded far exceeded what was being supplied, malnutrition could break my body down, or in the worst case, kill me. That wasn't a joke. It was entirely possible.
...If only my body would change not in a growth direction but toward being more energy-efficient, that would really help.
***
The Move from Level 2 to Level 3 had meant increased suffering, but there was something else that changed too. My relationships.
Since my cell had changed, it was only natural in a sense, but the faces of the prisoners sharing my cell had changed as well.
That said, the prisoners on this floor were mostly drained of energy and willpower by the heat and starvation, so there wasn't much conversation, and most people didn't bother engaging with others. But even in that environment, there were exceptions.
In both good and bad ways.
"Ow ow ow ow... Damn, those Jailers never learn the meaning of holding back..."
"I agree. Ahh, I'm exhausted..."
Just as I was thinking about all this, the cell door opened and my two female roommates returned from their torture sessions.
One was a tall woman with a fairly solid build and deep blue short hair.
The other was a girl, at least in appearance, with light purple hair that reached down to her waist.
Each of them noticed I was already back the moment they stepped inside. I'd forgotten to mention, but today was a torture day for me too, and I'd just gotten back. They both reacted with a quick "Oh."
Then they plopped down wherever they could find space and let out a sigh.
"There we go. You were early today, Sue... So, what'd they give you two? I got the whip."
"Binding for me. With a bonus round of boiling water halfway through."
"Ugh... Being stuck on this floor and then getting the hot stuff on top of it? That's the worst possible combo. Rough day, Blume."
"...Boiling water aside, I'm light, so binding isn't that bad for me. I'd rather have that than the whip. Whipping hurts more and I hate it. ...What about you, Sue?"
"I had... today was water torture."
When I said that, the contrasting pair, one large and one small, Beauty and Blume, turned startled gazes my way.
No, it wasn't just surprise. There was envy in those looks too.
"Seriously?! Oh man, I'm so jealous... You get to cool off AND drink all the water you want! I wish I'd gotten that instead!"
"No, it really wasn't that great... They still only submerge me from the shoulders up, and they make me drink until my stomach's about to burst. Then they punch me in the gut and make it all come out from both ends, and everyone has a good laugh at my expense. I end up completely soaked, and then they make me change in front of the male Jailers..."
"But realistically, water torture is a total treat for a Level 3 prisoner... I wanted that too."
"Right? Being watched and laughed at is nothing. It's not like it costs you anything."
The two of them said all this completely unfazed, even after hearing me describe how awful it was.
These two were female prisoners I'd been roomed with after my move to Level 3, and we'd naturally, without really thinking about it, hit it off and become friends. Comrades, even.
Back in my Level 2 cell, people would answer my questions and teach me things if I asked, but there was always a strong sense of keeping me at arm's length, of not wanting to get too involved. So having this kind of easy, casual relationship where we could chat comfortably and just be friends was a real lifeline for my mental state.
As for their appearances, I already mentioned those, so moving on...
Beauty had a refreshing, straightforward personality, as you might be able to tell from the way she talked. Boyish and spirited, with a real big-sister vibe.
Even under the grueling tortures of this prison, she never once complained or showed weakness. A strong woman.
And that wasn't all. Remarkably rare in this prison, she showed genuine concern for other prisoners, looking out for them and worrying about those who were struggling. In that sense too, she was a strong, dependable big sister.
Of course, that kind of behavior usually got her mocked as "soft" or sneered at as hypocritical, but she brushed all of it off without a care.
Big-hearted, I suppose you'd call it.
And she was big not just in spirit but in body too. She stood a full head taller than me, at least.
I was about 190 centimeters, so she was definitely over two meters.
And various parts of her beyond just her height were impressively proportioned too. Yet everything that should taper in did so properly, with a defined waist. A healthy physique through and through.
As for the other one, Blume was the opposite of Beauty: small and cool-mannered.
She talked normally enough and wasn't exactly the silent type, but her expression rarely changed, and her voice had little inflection, giving her a quiet impression. Plus, her eyes were always half-lidded like she was sleepy.
Standing next to Beauty and talking only made it seem more pronounced. The contrast.
As I mentioned, she was short, probably barely 150 centimeters if that. In yet another contrast with Beauty, she was small and flat.
Her arms and legs were thin, and she gave off a distinctly unhealthy, fragile impression.
...That's how she looked, anyway. But she surprised me by being tougher than expected in both body and mind. Even after harsh torture, she'd come back looking unfazed, and she barely ever screamed.
...Though it was also possible that her reactions and emotional expressions were simply muted.
She did claim she found it painful, at least. Her words.
Both of them, as you could tell from the fact that they were in Impel Down, were technically classified as criminals by the world at large.
More specifically, they were both Pirates. Technically.
Actually, some of you might recognize their names.
After all, they were two of the people who came up during that casual conversation back on Amazon Lily, in the "World's Most Beautiful Women and Girls Pirate Ranking."
I certainly never expected to meet them in a place like this. I was just as surprised.
Frozen Beauty. Known as the Chef of the Winter Sky. Bounty: 59 million Berry.
Ninth place in the "World's Most Beautiful Women and Girls Pirate Ranking."
Valerie Blume. Known as the Ghost of the Foggy Sea. Bounty: 106 million Berry.
Fifth place in the "World's Most Beautiful Women and Girls Pirate Ranking."
For reference, my Bounty was 76 million Berry, and I was ranked seventh.
In both Bounty and ranking, I beat Beauty but lost to Blume.
The money didn't matter, but... the ranking stung a little, I had to admit.
Well... I suppose a rough-around-the-edges girl like me just couldn't compete with that delicate, doll-like charm of hers.
I'll keep the explanation about these two to just this rough overview for now.
There's plenty more to talk about, of course. The backgrounds behind how they became Pirates, the circumstances that led to their capture and imprisonment here.
And especially regarding Blume, why someone Over 100 Million Berry, a big-name prisoner, was on this floor instead of Level 4 or 5.
I'll save all that for when the opportunity comes.
...Also, do you remember what I said earlier?
That there had been encounters in "both good and bad ways."
The "good" ones should be obvious by now. The two I just talked about.
We could chat easily, and they gave my heart some breathing room. They seemed to feel the same way about spending time with me and each other.
...So then, what about the "bad" one?
I glanced outside the cell, just barely, for only a fleeting instant so it wouldn't be noticed.
'...Yep, still staring over here today...'
'Don't engage, Sue. Give his type even a shred of attention and he'll take it as an invitation and come pushing his luck.'
'Even without that, you can tell exactly what kind of sleazy things he's thinking.'
Just like on Level 2, while the cells themselves were separated by gender, the floor itself wasn't divided. Cells holding male prisoners were within plain sight.
And the prisoners in those cells would, predictably, send over blatantly lustful, leering gazes.
On Level 3, though, the heat was so extreme that most people were running on fumes just to stay alive, and even their sexual urges shriveled up. Those kinds of stares were almost nonexistent.
Most of them simply didn't have the energy or willpower left to do anything to a woman's body.
...And yet, even in this Starvation Hell, there was one male prisoner who kept directing a distinctly slimy gaze our way.
He was a middle-aged prisoner in the cell diagonally across from ours, and my first impression of his appearance was, well... ugly.
Or more accurately, "creepy" might be the better word.
Unkempt purple hair, stubble, a face covered in wrinkles and age spots, and a thin smirk perpetually hanging at the corners of his mouth. A thoroughly repulsive-looking middle-aged man.
...No, calling him a "man" was too generous. He was more of a creep.
He had some kind of ragged cloth draped around his neck, something between a towel and a hand cloth, procured from who knows where. His gaze was fixed squarely on our cell, on us.
He never called out. He just watched. But even that alone was, frankly, revolting.
Because the aura drifting over through my Observation Haki was thoroughly, completely steeped in that kind of intent.
...I'd only glanced his way for a fraction of a second, so briefly it shouldn't have been noticeable. Yet as if he'd detected my gaze, and maybe he actually had, in that exact moment his smirk deepened.
He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips. Oh no, no, no. Even creepier now.
I couldn't suppress a shudder as I pulled my eyes away from that male prisoner, the Pirate Kisack with a 50 million Berry Bounty, and forced myself not to think about him as I returned to our conversation.
At that point, I still had no idea.
Not the faintest inkling that I would end up getting involved with this prisoner called Kisack, the very sight of whom filled me with revulsion, in a way I could never have anticipated.
And that when the time came, he would play an enormously important role for me.
No, not just for me. For all three of us in this cell.
There was no way I could have predicted that then.
To be continued...