So fast!
Onigumo's heart jolted — a sense of danger prickled like needles down his spine.
Relying purely on instinct honed through countless battles, he spun around, drawing his blade in a flash and slashing backward with all his strength.
Clang!
A deep metallic crash rang out, sparks exploding where the blades met.
In the next instant—
A force like a bursting flood slammed into him. Onigumo couldn't hold his ground — his feet skidded backward again and again, over ten full steps before he finally stopped, chest heaving as he gasped for breath.
Across from him, Shiryu had only been forced back two, maybe three steps. His breathing was steady, calm, and when their eyes met, he flashed a taunting grin.
It had been just a probing exchange, nothing serious—
Yet even from that brief clash,
it was clear who stood higher in raw strength.
"Again!"
Onigumo's eyes blazed with fury. His entire body tensed like a drawn bowstring before exploding forward like a meteor, his sword's blade now coated in a deep, inky black sheen.
"Armament Haki, huh…"
Seeing that familiar sight, Shiryu's eyes flickered with some unreadable emotion—but his lips curled into a cold smile.
"That's something... not just you alone have anymore..."
The instant his words fell, his figure vanished as well. The crimson-gold blade in his hand darkened with Haki, and with a single fluid motion—
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Steel rang in rapid succession as the two clashed again and again.
Both men, now using Armament Haki, unleashed their full capabilities, showing a skill level entirely different from moments ago.
The surrounding guards around them could barely track what was happening — only flashes of afterimages colliding at impossible speed, each clash sending gusts of wind that forced them to retreat to the very edge of the area.
But even from there, it wasn't hard to see how the fight was going.
At first, they seemed evenly matched.
But as time dragged on, the balance began to tip — and it wasn't in Onigumo's favor.
Under Shiryu's relentless pressure, Onigumo was being forced back again and again. His rhythm broke, his breathing faltered — if it went on like this, defeat was only a matter of time.
Momonga watched silently, then sighed.
"Stop, Onigumo. Let this spar end here. If you continue, it will only..."
"Stop?"
Onigumo roared, parrying another of Shiryu's slashes with desperate strength. His teeth ground together as he bellowed, "I said I'd beat this guy down again today! You think I'll back down now and eat my words? Not a chance!"
But he knew, deep down —
if things continued like this, he'd lose for sure.
Rather than being worn down slowly, it was better to use his trump card and gamble everything on one last attempt.
With this thought.
Whirr!
A flash of scarlet light gleamed in his eyes as his aura erupted. His long crimson hair flared out behind him — then split into six spiderlike limbs, each gripping a blade of its own.
"Six-Sword Style—Void Severance!"
The blinding storm of slashes that followed was terrifying, enough to make even Shiryu's eyes narrow in focus. He raised a brow, muttering under his breath:
"Life Return (Seimei Kikan) mastery, huh… interesting."
Then he shook his head slightly.
"Too bad—still too weak."
His expression hardened. Without hesitation, Shiryu swung. From left to right, his blade drew a streak of blinding white — a line so fast and clean the human eye couldn't even catch the motion.
"One Sword Style… Breath of the Rain!"
The air split apart as the two forces collided, locked for only a few heartbeats—
Then the whirlwind of the Six-Sword Style shattered, breaking apart like glass.
Onigumo's body was sent flying like a broken doll, slamming hard into the wall dozens of meters away.
Boom!
Stone cracked, dust and debris exploded outward. A deep crater gaped where he struck, spiderweb cracks spreading out from the impact.
Coughing blood, Onigumo tried to push himself up with his sword—but his strength failed him, and he dropped to one knee, panting.
"It's over, Onigumo."
Shiryu said it calmly, sheathing his sword Raiu ("Thunder Rain") with a sharp click. Then he struck a match, lighting another cigar as smoke curled lazily around him.
The haze drifted toward the fallen Marine.
Onigumo stared at Shiryu's cold, unreadable face — his own expression shifting between disbelief, resentment, and grudging acceptance.
Finally, he let out a low snort, said nothing, and turned away—
striding toward the exit without looking back.
Having been beaten down by a recruit he once casually crushed, he felt deeply ashamed. He simply gave up on the idea of visiting the lower levels, planning to return directly to the warship and wait for Onigumo. Out of sight, out of mind.
However.
Just as he passed by Shiryu, the latter stretched out an arm, blocking him.
"What's this?" Onigumo snapped, looking up angrily. "You've already beaten me — are you trying to humiliate me some more?"
"You…" Shiryu looked down at him and exhaled a cloud of smoke, speaking in a leisurely tone. "...are really overthinking it. Humiliate you? I'm not interested. Today was just about returning the favor for what you did back then. And I've been plenty restrained..."
He pointed towards the elevator entrance, grinning. "Go on in. After all, you're still Nao's adjutant. I can't ignore his face."
Returning the favor...
Looking at Shiryu's calm face, Onigumo froze for a moment and recalled: this whole thing really did start because of him.
Shortly after graduating he'd been promoted to Captain— he'd had his moment in the sun and gotten cocky, arrogant in the recruit camp. If Nao hadn't struck him down and Zephyr-sensei hadn't set him straight afterwards, he probably would still be that insufferable jerk today.
Momonga said nothing; he simply watched Shiryu, a hint of admiration in his gaze. He'd had only a faint impression of Shiryu back then — he hadn't expected, after a few years, Shiryu's strength to have reached the point of utterly overwhelming Onigumo.
I probably wouldn't be a match for this guy either, would I? Momonga pondered inwardly. In his estimation, Shiryu's current strength was roughly above Rear Admiral level but below Vice Admiral level. And considering the time, he'd only graduated two years ago. No wonder he could become Head Jailer even in Impel Down. What terrifying potential...
Meanwhile.
Onigumo's face turned pale then flushed. Finally, a trace of shame appeared. He shook his head and spoke in a deep voice, "What I did back then was wrong. Today I was outmatched, and I have no excuse — you've beaten me fairly, I accept it."
"But I'll skip going down." He glanced toward the elevator, regretful but resolute. He took a deep breath. "To be beaten in under half an hour — that's embarrassing. I don't deserve to go down there today. Next time, when we meet again, we'll spar properly. If I can beat you squarely then, I'll come down and take the tour."
He spoke sincerely, which surprised Shiryu. Shiryu appraised him as if seeing him for the first time and muttered with interest:
Well, spending time with Nao has really made him more honorable and straightforward…
"Fine, have it your way." Shiryu flicked his cigar ash, grinning leisurely. "But I'd advise you not to make your words too absolute. If you insist that you'll only go down after defeating me, I'm afraid you might never see Impel Down's scenery in your lifetime…"
"Don't get too cocky, kid."
Onigumo grinned too, lighting a cigar and waving as he strode off.
"I'm leaving. Next time we meet, be ready to get your ass kicked."
As his figure faded into the distance, Shiryu watched him disappear through the gate, curling his lip in amusement. Putting on quite the act, huh?
Where the hell can you even go? You'll still have to sit obediently on that warship, waiting for Momonga to finish his tour before you can leave…
When he looked down, he realized something was wrong. A cigar was missing from his case.
Dammit! This is the premium stuff I bought with half a month's salary! Each one is ridiculously expensive! So the one that bastard was smoking just now was one he pinched from me at some point!
...
"Shiryu,"
As they stepped into the elevator together, Momonga couldn't help but ask,
"In just a year, your strength has grown ridiculously fast… Have you ever thought about rejoining the Marine?"
"With your current power, just a few missions would guarantee a promotion to Rear Admiral. Within a few years, becoming a Vice Admiral wouldn't be out of reach."
As for the trouble he'd caused back then — the reason he'd been expelled from the Marine…
Was that even a real problem now?
With Mr. Nao's current prestige and influence, one word from him could erase that stain completely and restore Shiryu's record as if nothing had happened.
"The Marine, huh…"
Shiryu held his cigar between his lips, eyes reflecting a trace of nostalgia — but he shook his head slowly.
"No need. I'm quite comfortable here. Maybe this place suits me better than I thought."
"But this place…"
Momonga glanced at the cold metal walls surrounding them. A squad of guards stood nearby, so he hesitated to say more.
"You're thinking that I'm trapped in chains and walls, wasting my talent?"
Shiryu saw right through him and laughed loudly.
"Don't flatter yourself, Rear Admiral Momonga! I may be within these walls, but I have a freedom I've never had before. It's you who's really imprisoned — you, who look like you can sail the seas freely, but are actually bound by invisible shackles."
"This..." Momousagi was slightly stunned, then smiled wryly, speechless.
After so many years in the Marine, he fully understood what Shiryu meant — but given the sensitive nature of such words, he didn't dare discuss it in public.
"See? The shackles are already deep around your neck."
Shiryu said meaningfully, glancing at Momonga's neck. Then he tossed him a slim cigarette. Once Momonga lit it, Shiryu continued leisurely:
"In any case, I plan to spend the next few years here in this prison. As for going back to the Marine? Heh — maybe, if the day ever comes when Nao needs me, I won't wait for an invitation. I'll just walk out on my own."
The day he needs him…?
Mr. Nao needs him?
What did that mean?
Momonga's eyes flickered as he looked at Shiryu's profile — faint suspicions forming in his mind, but he didn't dare let them take shape.
No way… Could it be that Mr. Nao actually has that kind of ambition… or perhaps… that kind of dream?
"Don't overthink it."
Shiryu glanced at him and shrugged.
"Nao never said a word about anything like that. It's just my own little guess after spending these years observing him. Whether I'm right or wrong… who knows."
Momonga took a drag from his cigarette, unsure how to respond.
In the silence that followed—
The elevator finally began to descend, carrying them down into the depths.
The scenes of Impel Down's upper levels flashed rapidly past outside—
Crimson Hell, Wild Beast Hell, Blazing Hell… from Level 1 all the way to Level 5, the bizarre and hellish sights along the way left Momonga dazzled. For a while, even his earlier heavy thoughts faded from mind.
Before long, they reached the lowest level—
The legendary Level 6: Eternal Hell.
Unlike the upper floors, which still had some degree of light, this place was shrouded in darkness.
Damp, silent, oppressive—
The narrow corridors were lined with cells that held monstrous criminals: pirates so violent and infamous they had been erased from history, beings of near-mythical notoriety.
Many of the prisoners here had long been wiped from all records and newspapers—forgotten by the world, buried beneath the dust of history.
THUD!
A heavy impact shook the ground as the elevator hit bottom. The gates opened, and after strict security checks, the group stepped into the narrow, dim passageway.
Dragged between two guards, Donquixote Doflamingo, who had been unconscious until now, was jostled awake.
This place…
He squinted weakly, scanning his surroundings. After a few moments, he roughly understood where he was.
"Fufufufufufu…"
Doflamingo let out a low, mocking laugh.
"So this is the legendary Level Six? Heh… quite the honor, huh? A small-timer from the North Blue like me, who's never even set foot in the New World, getting thrown straight into a place like this?"
"Or is it…" — his lips curled into a sneer — "that my real identity has been discovered, and you're all so terrified of me causing trouble up there that you had to—"
SMACK!
Before he could finish, a heavy slap landed squarely on his head, cutting him off.
Stars burst in Doflamingo's vision. Fury surged through him; he tried to lash out, but the guards pinned him down firmly, leaving him unable to move.
Momonga, on the other hand, stood frozen in shock—watching as Shiryu withdrew his hand with open disdain and said coldly:
"That's enough. Every word out of your mouth circles back to that damned Celestial Dragon blood of yours. What, being born in Mariejois makes you proud? Don't tell me you actually think being here will earn you special treatment?"
Doflamingo snapped his head around, glaring daggers at Shiryu—his expression dark and venomous, as though he could devour him whole.
"I don't mind telling you…"
Shiryu bent down slightly, his voice lowering into a chilling murmur.
"By protocol, you were supposed to be imprisoned on Level Five. But it was my suggestion, during the meeting, that convinced the Chief Warden to transfer you here."
He smiled—but the glint in his eyes was cold enough to freeze blood.
"The upper levels are full of surveillance Den Den Mushi. Too bright, too many guards. In a place like that…"
He let out a quiet chuckle.
"…how could I properly take care of you, hmm?"