Impel Down.
Outside the great gate.
A small vessel flying the Marine flag was quietly anchored on the sea's surface.
Ivankov stood on the dock, his afro swaying slightly in the sea breeze.
He turned to glance back at the massive steel behemoth behind him, his emotions complicated.
Excited!
In disbelief!
Never in his wildest dreams did he expect he could walk out of Impel Down so smoothly.
No battles, no jailbreak, not even paperwork was required.
Just one sentence from Rear Admiral Hawke was enough to send him outside the prison gates.
Even a ship and supplies for the voyage had been prepared.
Behind him, Deputy Commander Inazuma and over a dozen Revolutionary Army soldiers wore the same dazed expressions, as if still trapped in a dream.
" Kuma."
Ivankov looked toward the silent man at his side.
"Take care of yourself."
"Mm."
"Then, let's go!"
Ivankov flashed a victory sign at Kuma, then led his subordinates aboard the vessel.
The anchor was lifted, and the ship cut through the waves, speeding toward the horizon.
With the Marine flag as a guarantee, their journey would be smooth.
"Fuu—"
Standing at the bow, Ivankov savored the long-missed sea breeze, though his heart remained unsettled.
He had to return to the Revolutionary Army headquarters at Baltigo immediately.
He must tell Dragon about Kuma's cryptic warning!
That massive Marine warship about to turn its bow…
If the Revolutionary Army didn't seize this chance to board, it would be too late!!!
"..."
Kuma stood silently at the dock until the little ship completely vanished over the horizon.
Only then did he slowly turn, disappearing once more into the darkness of Impel Down.
...
Level 5, the Freezing Hell.
"Clang—!"
Zoro and Shiryu's duel continued, the clash of blades ringing across the frozen plains.
Hawke stood atop an ice cliff, quietly smoking a cigar.
Watching Zoro's swordsmanship grow sharper and more ferocious, he nodded in satisfaction.
At that moment—"Tap—"
Kuma appeared soundlessly behind him, like a towering mountain of silence.
Hawke didn't turn around.
His mind swirled with thoughts.
Bartholomew Kuma.
Since Thriller Bark, this man had silently followed him.
Devoted, without complaint.
At heart, he was an incredibly kind man.
To save his homeland, he willingly bore the title of "Tyrant."
To cure his foster daughter's terminal illness, he offered himself as a test subject for the World Government, gradually abandoning his humanity, step by step, to become that cold "Pacifista."
His foster daughter, Jewelry Bonney.
That so-called "Bonney Pirates"—their crew were actually the strongest fishermen of the Sorbet Kingdom.
The Bonney Pirates.
They didn't sail for treasure.
They didn't sail for fame.
They sailed only to protect the girl they had watched grow up—the only bond their king could not let go.
A group of fathers at heart, awkwardly playing the role of pirates, guarding their princess.
Sigh...
Judging by the timeline now...
The "Bonney Pirates" led by Bonney should be arriving at the Sabaody Archipelago soon.
"Fuu—"
Hawke slowly exhaled a smoke ring, the haze scattering instantly in the icy wind.
The time had come.
He turned, fixing his gaze on Kuma.
"Kuma..."
"I've already spoken with Fleet Admiral Sengoku."
"Jewelry Bonney and the Bonney Pirates—their bounties will all be rescinded."
"!!!"
Kuma's body trembled violently.
"Headquarters will dispatch a Vice Admiral to meet her at Sabaody."
"Afterward, she and her crew will be escorted to the G-3 Branch."
"..."
Kuma's breathing grew rapid.
Hawke looked at him, eyes carrying a trace of apology.
"Though I'm sorry... the trials of Impel Down still need you."
"When I leave this place..."
"You can go to G-3, and reunite with her."
"..."
Slowly, slowly, Kuma lifted his head.
This man, who had endured endless pain and despair without shedding a single tear.
This man, misunderstood by the world, branded "Tyrant," yet a gentle king.
In this moment, his eyes burned red.
Warm liquid traced down his cheeks, freezing into ice instantly in this hell of frost.
He opened his mouth, his throat aflame, choking him.
Finally, all his gratitude, all his excitement, all his emotions condensed into one trembling cry.
"Rear Admiral Hawke...!"
"Loyalty!"
...
Paradise, waters near Mock Town.
A burly man with a brutish air sat on a crude raft.
Clutching a bottle, he tipped it back, gulping deeply.
"Zehahahaha—!"
The burning liquor scorched his throat, flooding his skull with savage pleasure.
Teach squinted toward his distant target.
Mock Town.
After leaving the Whitebeard Pirates, he intended to recruit a few ruthless companions in this lawless pirate haven.
This was a paradise for villains, fertile ground for ambition.
Perfect for someone like him.
But upon arriving from the New World into Paradise, he had heard the Marines had bombarded the town, leaving not a single survivor.
Since it was on his way to the Four Seas, he decided to check.
And now, he had arrived.
The sight before him was even more brutal than the rumors.
The air was thick with the stench of charred wood.
The once bustling streets were reduced to blackened rubble.
"Zehahaha, what a sight!"
Teach grinned wide, but his eyes held no laughter.
To cause this level of destruction, it couldn't have been an ordinary Marine fleet!
"Grumble—"
His stomach growled loudly, interrupting his thoughts.
Teach shook his head, tossing aside his worries for now.
He stepped off the raft, wading through ankle-deep seawater, and walked onto the scorched land.
He stayed because he remembered a small shop here, one that made the best cherry pies.
Following his memory, he searched through the ruins until he uncovered the remains of the little shop beneath charred planks.
Fortunately, the cellar remained intact.
From it, he dug out several cherry pies wrapped in wax paper. Though a bit squashed, their aroma lingered.
Unbothered, Teach tore open the paper and devoured them with swigs of liquor.
Just then, the corner of his eye caught several black dots on the sea's horizon.
"Hm?"
He froze mid-bite, snatched up his spyglass, and peered.
Five ships.
Five massive… merchant vessels?
No flags flew from their masts.
But Teach's brow furrowed.
Something was wrong.
Two decades under Whitebeard had honed his instincts.
Though disguised as merchant ships, the way they sliced through the water, the precise spacing between them—all spoke of discipline.
Not merchants.
A fleet.
Suddenly, his gaze locked onto the flagship at the front.
A tall figure stood there, hands in pockets, posture lazy.
"!!!"
Teach's expression froze.
His pupils shrank violently.
That silhouette…
That man…
The Navy Headquarters' top fighting force.
Marine Admiral, "Aokiji"—Kuzan!
Why?!
Why would a Marine Admiral appear here?!
On the flagship, Kuzan seemed to sense something.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze landing on Teach within the ruins.
"Maa~"
"Mock Town... still has survivors?"
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