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The corridor lay shrouded in darkness, candlelight trembling against damp stone walls.
"Pshk!"
A sharp blade pierced flesh. Blood sprayed, splattering the floor in thick, crimson pools.
"Haah… haah… haah…"
Heavy breathing echoed through the passage.
Those blood-red eyes lifted slowly. A twisted grin stretched across pale lips, and a savage chuckle seeped out between clenched teeth.
"Jie hahahaha!"
In the next instant, the iron cell door exploded outward.
A figure shot into the air and streaked down the corridor at terrifying speed, heading for the upper levels of Impel Down.
"You think I'm the type to rot in a cage?"
Blood dripped from the man's severed legs. Golden hair spilled to his waist, swaying as he laughed wildly. His scarlet eyes burned with boundless killing intent.
"Kyle!"
"Just you wait!"
"When I get out…"
"I'll settle everything with you!"
Mad laughter rolled up from Level Six of Impel Down.
And then, in a blink, the figure surged upward—Level Five. Level Four.
"Th-the Golden Lion… Shiki!!"
"Ahh! Help!"
"Shiki's escaped!"
"How did he even get out of Level Six, the Eternal Hell?!"
"He cut off his own legs!"
Screams of terror erupted throughout the prison. Fear spread like a suffocating fog.
Golden Lion Shiki.
One of the three legendary pirates of the world.
Two years ago, he had been personally captured and imprisoned by Marine Headquarters Vice Admiral Kyle.
No one could have imagined that a pirate thrown into Level Six would ever escape. The conditions there were enough to break even the strongest will, forcing a man to watch his life drain away inch by inch.
What kind of mind… what kind of monstrous resolve… would it take to claw your way out of that abyss?
Since Impel Down was founded, nothing like this had ever happened. When the news first spread, many refused to believe it.
But reality arrived in the blink of an eye.
On Level One, prison guards saw him—wearing a tattered inmate uniform, floating in midair, hurtling toward them at breakneck speed.
"It's him! It's really him!"
A guard shrieked.
Moments later, bodies lay strewn across the corridor in grotesque angles.
Golden Lion Shiki perched atop a beam overhead, looking down at the trembling figure below.
Hannyabal stared up in terror. Shiki's severed legs still dripped blood onto the stone floor.
Shiki bared his teeth in a savage grin.
"Jie hahahaha!"
"Know where my swords are?"
"They're famous blades."
"Kogarashi and Outo."
Hannyabal's entire body shook violently. He looked up at the floating pirate and stammered.
"Pro-pro-pro—"
"I want a promotion! Oh—no! I mean—"
"Shiki!!"
He screamed.
Shiki gazed down at him with mocking amusement. When Hannyabal finally pointed in a trembling direction, the pirate's eyes turned cold.
"Where's Kyle now?"
Hannyabal shuddered. "V-Vice Admiral Kyle?"
"He's in the West Blue!"
Shiki's pupils shrank—then he burst into laughter.
In a flash, his figure shot away.
"Kyle!"
"We'll see each other very soon!"
"This time… I won't lose to you again!!"
Still laughing madly, the terrifying pirate vanished from sight, leaving Hannyabal staring at empty air.
—
Moments later, at Marine Headquarters in Marineford.
Bandages wrapped around his neck and torso, Sengoku had been leaning back in his chair to rest.
He shot upright so violently the chair scraped across the floor.
"What did you just say?"
"Golden Lion escaped?"
"How is that even possible?!"
For Marine Headquarters, the news was nothing short of an earthquake.
In all its years, Impel Down had never suffered such a disgrace.
"Yes, sir. Golden Lion Shiki severed his own legs to remove the Seastone shackles and escape."
"He's also retrieved his twin swords and declared he's going after Vice Admiral Kyle."
The reporting marine spoke rapidly, sweat running down his temple.
Sengoku fell silent for a moment.
"What a decisively terrifying man…"
Then his brow tightened further.
"And Kyle…"
Just thinking of that brat made his wounds ache as if they'd reopened.
That battle had shaken Marine Headquarters to its core.
Even now, with the Shiki breaking out of prison, they still couldn't spare a single effective force to hunt him down.
After a long silence, Sengoku let out a quiet sigh. His expression was complicated.
"That brat… he's already got the entire West Blue in his grip, hasn't he?"
The staff officer froze for a second, then lowered his voice. "All branch officers across the West Blue islands have been replaced. They're now assigned from Vice Admiral Kyle's G-18 Fortress."
Sengoku fell silent again.
A while later, he rose slowly and walked to the window, letting the sea wind wash over his face.
"So he wants to build his own army of justice?"
"Fine. Let's see how far you can really take it."
With the World Government's decision made, Naval Headquarters settled into an ambiguous stance toward the West Blue.
Cutting ties completely and becoming open enemies wouldn't be appropriate. But continuing to provide support and pour in massive funding was out of the question.
In simple terms, Headquarters chose to ice things over.
Maybe, as time passed, the relationship would gradually thaw. But for now, it was a cold war.
Each side governing itself. That summed up the relationship between Headquarters and the West Blue perfectly.
And Kyle, in a sense, had leapt into becoming the largest military faction within the Marines.
"Kuzan. Those three brats… they're alright?"
Sengoku asked again.
"Vice Admirals Kuzan and Borsalino are recovering well."
"As for Sakazuki, he still can't move for the time being."
the officer replied.
"They've got potential. After this setback, maybe one day they'll truly have a chance to fight Kyle."
Sengoku spoke softly.
Of course, that assumed the boy's strength didn't grow any further.
If he became even stronger…
Ten, twenty years from now, who in the world would be able to stop him?
And if, by then, Kyle still held fast to his beliefs and created his so-called just navy… what kind of world would that be?
The more Sengoku thought about it, the more a strange flicker of anticipation stirred in his chest.
"If it's that kid…"
"Maybe he really can."
Naval Hospital, Room 306.
A man wrapped head to toe in white bandages, both legs encased in plaster, only his eyes visible, clenched his teeth so hard they creaked.
"Kyle!!!"
"And Barrett!"
"Just you wait!"
"Next time we meet, I'll be even stronger!"
His low roar drifted into the corridor, filling the hospital with a chilling tension.
Outside, in the garden, two bandaged figures sat quietly on a bench.
"Hey, Borsalino."
One of them suddenly spoke in a lazy drawl.
"Hmm?"
Borsalino turned his head toward Kuzan.
"Do you think this operation was right or wrong?"
"And what Kyle did… was that justice?"
Kuzan asked, a faint haze of confusion in his eyes.
He thought he knew the answer. And yet, something about it felt off.
"Well, trying to chase down answers to questions like that… that's a mistake in itself, if you ask me."
"But if we're really going to talk about it, I'd say Kyle was right."
"Of course, that doesn't mean we can copy him."
"After all, that guy's a monster."
Borsalino's tone was casual, almost sleepy.
Kuzan fell silent.
After a long time, he let out a quiet sigh.
"If I could… I'd like to be like him. Just doing what I believe is right. Free."
Borsalino smiled faintly.
West Blue, Troy.
A spark flared in a dim room, igniting the tip of a cigar. White smoke curled lazily into the air.
"Ohara's been destroyed."
"And yet Troy, the so-called City of Art, still thrives."
A low voice echoed through the darkness.
"Boss Capone… are those rumors true?"
The man standing before him spoke cautiously, fear edging into his voice at the mere mention of them.
"Whether they're true or not—does it matter?"
Capone Bege flicked ash from his cigar and sneered.
"As long as that man stays in these waters, every underground force in the West Blue survives only because he allows it."
He paused, glancing sideways.
"For two years, he's stayed inside G-18 Fortress without making a move."
"But that doesn't mean he's forgotten about us."
"Especially now that his officers have taken full control over the West Blue's command structure."
Bege's expression grew heavy. Fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
"That means…"
"He's about to make his move."
"And our spies inside the Marines have confirmed something else."
"Naval Headquarters has cut off resources to the West Blue branches."
He licked his lips, fear flashing in his eyes.
"You know what that means."
The subordinate still looked lost. "Boss… what does it mean?"
"Idiot!"
"It means he's about to act!"
"He's coming!"
Bege barked.
"What do we do?" the man asked, panic rising.
Ever since that man arrived in the West Blue, pirate activity had plummeted. Even the Five Great Mafia Families had kept their heads down.
Rumor had it that two years ago, Bege personally sent a shipment of gifts to him. The man accepted them… but never responded.
He hadn't even granted Bege an audience.
Bege took a hard drag from his cigar, eyes flickering.
What could he do?
This was a man who had personally captured the Pirate King Roger, the Golden Lion Shiki, who had crushed two Admirals and annihilated a Buster Call fleet.
To Bege, he was like a god. The thought of resisting didn't even cross his mind.
"I heard he recently left G-18 Fortress. What if he's coming here?" the subordinate added.
Bege's body trembled. His hand slid to the pistol at his waist.
In the next instant, he raised it and pulled the trigger without warning.
Bang.
Blood splattered across the room as the man fell, confusion frozen on his face.
"Jinx."
Bege's voice was ice cold.
"..."
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