The thunderlight flared, engulfing the King of Evil in a storm of blinding brightness that illuminated every dark corner of the cell. Sparks crackled wildly before fading, revealing a charred figure crumpled on the ground. The scent of burnt flesh filled the air—he was beyond dead.
The other prisoners fell silent. The mocking smiles and twisted grins vanished, replaced by wide-eyed fear. The King of Evil had been one of the strongest among them, a monster whose bounty once shook the seas. If this stranger could kill him so effortlessly, then none of them stood a chance.
Kaito stood in the center of the hall, his expression calm and detached. A low hum of power radiated from him as his voice echoed through the darkness, cold and commanding.
"Who among you has been here the longest?"
The air grew heavier as a crushing pressure erupted from his body—a suffocating wave of pure killing intent. It wasn't just strength; it was the weight of countless lives ended by his hand. Bloodlust, rage, and darkness fused into something almost tangible, blanketing the entirety of Impel Down's sixth floor.
The prisoners, each once feared across the New World, trembled involuntarily. Their hearts pounded, breath caught in their throats. They had all killed before—dozens, hundreds—but never had they felt killing intent like this.
How many lives did this man take to carry such a presence?
A deep, rumbling voice suddenly echoed from the far end of the hall.
"Oi, brat. Take back your aura before you make me sick."
Kaito turned toward the voice. The cells in that area were enormous—the smallest easily ten meters tall. These were the cages of the giants. And the one who spoke was the largest of them all.
The giant's form loomed in the gloom, his features monstrous yet oddly human. His eyes, each the size of a ship's porthole, glowed faintly in the dim light.
Kaito's gaze hardened. "You've been here the longest?"
The giant tilted his head with a grin. "Heh. Don't let my face fool you, kid. I've been rotting in here for nearly eighty years. For a giant, that's still young."
Recognition flickered in Kaito's eyes. "Sanjuan Wolf?"
The giant gave a lazy laugh that rattled the stone walls. "Didn't think anyone still remembered that name."
"I'm looking for someone," Kaito said evenly. "The Red Earl—Peter Redfield. He once rivaled Roger and Whitebeard."
The moment the names Roger and Whitebeard left his mouth, the air itself seemed to freeze. Even the most deranged criminals grew silent, their eyes wide with disbelief.
The Pirate King.
The Strongest Man in the World.
Legends whose very names inspired awe.
And this man—this demon who just burned another pirate alive—was searching for someone who had stood beside them.
A deep voice murmured from one of the darkened cells, barely audible. "...Captain Roger..."
Sanjuan Wolf rubbed his chin, his booming voice breaking the silence. "Redfield, huh? I remember him. Long time ago, not long after I was thrown in here. A man in a crimson cape—Marines brought him in themselves. They dragged him northeast, deeper than even my cell. Haven't seen him since."
Kaito gave a small nod. "Appreciate it." He turned away, walking toward the direction the giant had pointed.
As he reached the far corner, his eyes glowed faintly with electromagnetic light. "Found you," he murmured.
A weak human life signature flickered at the edge of his perception. But before he could move closer—
A blinding golden flash filled the prison.
"Yare yare..."
A familiar, lazy voice echoed through the hall. Kaito turned, his expression sharpening as a tall figure emerged from the light.
Kizaru.
The Marine Admiral's usually smug face was now deadly serious. "You again, Kaito," he said with a sigh. "Why is it always you?"
Kaito didn't respond.
Kizaru frowned. "You know this is Impel Down. These prisoners are monsters. If you free them, the seas will drown in chaos. Even the Marines won't be able to contain it."
Kaito's tone remained calm. "I'm not here to free everyone. I came for two people. Give them to me, and I'll leave."
Kizaru blinked in disbelief. "You... want to form a pirate crew?"
Even for him, the idea was absurd. One man strong enough to crush Marine Headquarters—and now he wanted subordinates? If that was true, the Four Emperors would become Five.
But as he met Kaito's eyes, he saw no jest. Just certainty.
After a moment, Kizaru exhaled deeply. "Who are you looking for?"
Kaito's answer was simple. "Red Earl Redfield—and the Devil's Heir, Douglas Bullet."
The prison fell silent once more. Even the air seemed to shiver with anticipation.