Slice.
The muffled sound of tearing flesh cut through the dead silence of Level Six.
A line of blood reflected in Zaraki's pupils. Raiu had pierced Magellan's abdomen.
The famed blade emerged from the Chief Warden's back, carrying a spray of foul, dark-purple poisonous blood that splattered across the stone floor in a thick, steaming arc.
Time stretched in that instant.
Zaraki saw the stunned expression frozen on Magellan's face, the way his lips parted without sound, and the flicker of strength in his eyes dimming under the combined strain of the wound and the Seastone cuff locked around his wrist.
"Hah…"
A leaking gasp escaped Magellan's throat.
His massive body convulsed. Both hands clamped around Shiryu's sword arm, yet the strength that belonged to the Chief Warden of Impel Down drained away.
The Seastone restraint suppressed his Devil Fruit ability, while the blade in his gut stole the power he needed to stand.
"Farewell, my weak former superior."
A twisted smile stretched across Shiryu of the Rain's face.
He yanked Raiu free in one smooth motion.
Magellan crashed against the rock wall behind him and slid to the ground.
A mixture of blood and venom gathered beneath him, spreading into a black-purple pool.
"Now…"
Shiryu flicked the filth from his blade. In his other hand, the key to the Seastone cuff spun once before he tossed it aside.
Clink.
The key struck the stone floor.
It was a small noise, yet in the suffocating quiet of Eternal Hell, that metallic chime drilled into the ears of every prisoner, announcing the collapse of the old order inside Impel Down.
"Warm-up's over."
Shiryu turned, sparing Magellan no further attention.
His gaze passed Zaraki and locked onto the deeper reinforced cell where Douglas Bullet stood behind the bars, battle intent burning in his blood-red eyes.
"Douglas Bullet." The corner of Shiryu's mouth curved. "You remnant of the old era. We've both seen the summit of this world. Instead of rotting here until your bones turn to dust, why not join hands with me and turn the sea upside down? With our strength, we could build an empire that even the World Government would fear."
He spread his arms like a prophet welcoming a new age.
The only answer he received was Bullet's disdainful snort.
"Join hands?" Bullet twisted his neck.
A sharp crack echoed from his cell.
He looked at Shiryu like a man watching a clown perform in a gutter. "Trash like you, who only knows how to stab people in the back, thinks he is worthy of talking about joining hands with me?"
His gaze shifted back to Zaraki, and the fighting spirit in his eyes flared.
"My opponent is him alone."
The smile on Shiryu's face stiffened. He saved himself further embarrassment, sweeping his gaze toward the other cells.
Red the Aloof, Patrick Redfield, remained silent in the darkness, showing zero interest.
Crocodile leaned against his own bars with a cigar clamped in his teeth, watching with eyes that had gone dead long ago.
Stubborn old bastards who don't know what's good for them.
Shiryu cursed the thought and turned his full attention back to Zaraki.
"Looks like they're more interested in you, Garp's brat." His tone dripped with mockery.
Behind him, Catarina Devon, Vasco Shot, Avalo Pizarro, and the other released monsters took several steps forward in tacit agreement, surrounding Zaraki from all sides.
"Oh-ho-ho-ho… Such a young special envoy from Marine Headquarters. You excite me beyond words." Catarina stretched her long tongue and licked her lips.
"Hic… kid, surrender now, and we might leave your corpse in one piece…" Vasco hugged his wine gourd, his voice slurred, though the cruelty in his eyes burned bright and awake.
Pressure, killing intent, and sheer madness surged toward Zaraki.
Every gaze in Eternal Hell focused on him.
The legends buried in their cells, Bullet who had just rejected Shiryu, Redfield hidden in the shadows, and even Crocodile who pretended not to care—they all watched the young Marine standing in the center of the corridor.
They were curious.
Facing this many monsters at once, how would the brat respond?
Zaraki swept his gaze across Shiryu, then across the criminals behind him.
His eyes landed on Magellan, whose breathing had grown so faint it vanished beneath the damp air of Level Six.
Then, he laughed.
A hint of helplessness touched that smile, mixed with a trace of contempt.
"Trying to recruit this one, recruit that one… what a pain." He shook his head, speaking to himself, yet his voice echoed through the entirety of Level Six.
"There's no need for that."
Zaraki raised his eyes.
No ripple disturbed his dark pupils, it was a simple statement of fact.
"Because all of you together… don't make much difference to me."
Before his words faded, he reached into the inner pocket of his Marine coat and extracted something. It was a small bean, emerald green from end to end.
In the dark, blood-soaked depths of this hell, the faint vitality radiating from the object looked out of place.
"Smoker," Zaraki called without turning his head.
"Yeah!" Smoker answered on pure reflex.
Zaraki flicked his thumb, sending the green bean through the air in a clean arc.
"Put this in his mouth. And unlock that cuff first."
Smoker caught the bean, feeling its warmth press into his palm.
He stared at the tiny thing—barely larger than a fingernail—then looked toward Magellan's collapsed body.
This thing… can save him?
The doubt surfaced, but Zaraki's back remained straight and unyielding, as if the monsters surrounding him were nothing more than noisy scenery.
Smoker clenched his teeth and moved.
He rushed toward Magellan, snatched the Seastone key from the stone, and snapped the cuff off the Chief Warden's wrist.
The moment the restraint opened, Magellan's poisonous aura stirred, though the massive wound in his abdomen remained far too severe for him to recover alone.
The entirety of Level Six plunged into an eerie silence.
The mocking smiles on Shiryu and the escaped prisoners' faces froze, replaced by sheer confusion. A bean?
At a moment like this, the young Marine had tossed a bean?
Low, muffled chuckles drifted from several cells.
The prisoners looked at Zaraki the way one would look at a fool who had lost his mind.
Only Zaraki knew this was no farce.
Smoker knelt at Magellan's side. Looking at the mangled wound in the Chief Warden's abdomen and the pupils losing focus, the doubt in his chest surged.
Just this thing that looks like a snack? Can it work?
Magellan's cloudy vision caught Zaraki's eyes from across the corridor. Those eyes were calm. Stone calm.
What is that? Emergency medicine?
His thoughts grew sluggish from blood loss and his own uncontained poison; basic judgment was difficult to maintain.
He knew no normal medicine could heal an injury like this.
Yet, those unwavering black eyes ignited a ridiculous spark of hope in his chest. Maybe… just maybe.
"Hurry up, Smoker," Zaraki said.
His voice carried zero tension; he sounded bored. "I don't want this place collapsing before I get a proper fight."
'That bastard…' Smoker cursed, but his hands moved.
He pried Magellan's mouth open and shoved the warm bean inside.
The bean melted the instant it touched the tongue, turning into a sweet, warm current that slid down Magellan's throat and into his stomach.
In the next few breaths, something impossible happened.
Under the eyes of Smoker, Shiryu, and every prisoner present, Magellan's terrifying wound began to close.
It did not vanish as if time had reversed, and the damaged flesh did not return to perfection, but the bleeding stopped.
Torn tissue stitched itself together.
The dark-purple poison purged from the wound, and color returned to skin that had been pale as paper.
His fading breathing steadied.
"Cough… cough!"
Magellan coughed, spitting stale blood, and forced himself upright with one hand against the wall.
When he lowered his head to look at his abdomen, the wound remained—an ugly, scarred over half-healed mark—but it no longer dragged him toward death.
"This… this is…" he murmured, decades of medical common sense cracking apart in his mind.
Eternal Hell became so silent it felt frozen.
If Zaraki throwing a bean had seemed laughable, the current silence held something far colder.
Bullet's pupils contracted.
A piece of ash fell from the cigar in Crocodile's mouth. Even from the dark cell where Redfield remained hidden, a faint breath of surprise escaped.
Every gaze was nailed to Magellan.
"Impossible…"
The ease and mockery on Shiryu's face vanished, his expression turning pitch black.
He had seen Devil Fruit abilities capable of rapid healing, but this was different.
It was not a complete restoration, nor did it erase the wound without a trace, but pulling a man back from a fatal injury in mere moments was enough to shake the nerves of every monster in the prison.
If such a thing could be mass-produced, how much would the world change?
For the first time since stabbing Magellan, a chill washed over Shiryu.
"Oh? Looks like you care about that."
Zaraki's voice broke the frozen air.
He looked at Shiryu's livid face, the corner of his mouth curving with amusement.
"Don't overthink it. It's just a local specialty I picked up on a voyage. There aren't many of them." His explanation was casual, making the prisoners doubt whether he understood the value of what he had just used.
"Besides, to me, the fun of battle is walking the line between life and death. Something like that only gets in the way."
He paused. His gaze swept over Shiryu and the dangerous criminals standing behind him. Battle intent burned in his eyes.
"All right. The nuisance has been handled. Now, it's your turn."
His grin widened into something savage.
"Are you all ready to bleed?"
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