"Flying Thunder God, huh? Not bad."
Arthur's lips curled into a charming, almost cocky smile.
He actually liked that title.
Behind him, Redfield and Bundy World arrived, their expressions an explosive mix of disbelief, excitement, and barely contained awe.
Even Crocodile, who always carried himself with the same smug disdain, had to admit inwardly — Arthur's power was terrifying.
And Arthur himself knew it.
Frankly, even he thought he was a little too overpowered.
He raised both hands slightly; the roaring cheers from the prisoners gradually died down.
"Anyone who wants out, follow me. Whether you make it or not — that's on you."
Without another word, he strode forward, lightning humming faintly around his shoulders.
Impel Down — Chaos Unleashed
"Wait—am I seeing this right?! Behind the Flying Thunder God… are those Bundy World, Crocodile, and—holy hell—Redfield?!"
A prisoner with decent eyesight nearly choked as he shouted.
"Yeah, yeah! That's them! It's really them!"
"Then what are we waiting for?! That kind of lineup breaking out of prison — that's a once-in-a-lifetime miracle!"
"Right! Miss this chance and we're rotting here forever!"
The crowd exploded into motion.
Dozens of prisoners surged forward like a tidal wave, shoving and trampling each other in desperation to keep up.
In a place like this, even one second slower meant death.
Control Room — Panic in the Eyes of the Warden
Magellan sat hunched over the monitor, clutching at his still-bleeding abdomen, his face pale with horror.
"This… this is insane. He took down Shiryu with a single slash!?"
For the first time in decades, true fear crawled up Magellan's spine.
This wasn't a fight — it was a nightmare given form.
He fumbled for the Den-Den Mushi, voice shaking as he called Marine HQ.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku—! Emergency! Level Six breach—Shiryu's down!"
There was a pause. Then Sengoku's furious voice came through the line.
"What did you just say?! Shiryu was taken out in one blow?!"
Even Sengoku, usually the picture of composure, was struck speechless. Not even Redfield could have done that with ease.
"Unbelievable… How can a monster like that even exist!?"
He slammed the receiver down, muttering darkly under his breath.
"Damn it! Why doesn't the Navy ever get freaks like this on our side?"
The Fleet Admiral's tone was uncharacteristically coarse — a rare glimpse of raw frustration.
Taking a deep breath, Sengoku straightened his coat and spoke to the aides outside.
"Begin full-scale recruitment immediately. The Navy's strength must be replenished — now."
His voice was grim.
In his mind's eye, he could already picture the chaos to come — Redfield, Bundy World, Crocodile, and now this new anomaly at their head.
"Even if Borsalino himself went, I'm not sure he could stop them…"
He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair — and noticed several new strands of silver glinting against the black.
"Notify Aokiji — his leave is over.
And call… that magma bastard. Tell Akainu to return from the New World immediately."
Impel Down — The Gates of Hell
At the massive iron entrance of the prison, the battlefield was chaos incarnate.
Over a thousand inmates, led by Arthur, stormed the gate like an unstoppable flood.
Magellan, still standing despite his injuries, stared in disbelief at the carnage — the fallen Jailer Beasts, the groaning guards, the scattered marines.
"Monsters… they're all monsters…"
His gaze fixed on the calm figure walking casually through the battlefield — lightning dancing faintly across his skin, his violet eyes gleaming with amusement.
Arthur.
Every guard and soldier who'd seen the surveillance footage knew who he was now.
Knew what he'd done.
No one dared step in his path.
Even with orders to defend the gate, they all made the same silent decision: pretend not to see him and deal with the other prisoners instead.
Not my problem.
Too busy fighting these guys over here!
Magellan couldn't help but laugh bitterly.
"If I weren't the Warden, I'd probably pretend not to see him too…"
"Warden Magellan! Long time no see," Arthur called out, tone dripping with mock courtesy. "Still in one piece, I hope?"
Magellan winced, a flash of shame passing through his eyes.
He wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole — but duty bound him to stand tall.
Even if it killed him.
He clenched his jaw, preparing for one last fight, when suddenly a clear, feminine voice cut through the chaos.
"Hold it right there! Evil will never triumph over justice!"
Domino, the Deputy Chief Warden, stepped forward, her whip gleaming in hand.
From beside her, Hannyabal groaned and covered his face.
"Ah, great. There goes my promotion. If Magellan dies, I'm next in line!
Wait—did I just say that out loud? Nobody heard that, right?"
Every single person on the battlefield froze mid-fight and shouted back in unison:
"We heard you loud and clear!"
Hannyabal's expression froze.
"…Why do you people have to be so loud?"
Before he could say more, a low rumble echoed from the sea.
The massive gate to the Grand Line creaked open, and four enormous Marine battleships surged into view.
Cheers erupted among the guards and sailors.
"Reinforcements!"
Four figures stood proudly at the bows of their ships — coats of justice billowing in the wind.
Vice Admirals Onigumo, Doberman, Bastille, and Momonga — each a powerhouse in their own right, backed by hundreds of armed marines lining the decks behind them.
Arthur tilted his head, amused.
"Hmm. They look impressive."
He smirked.
"All right — one each. Any objections?"
Three voices behind him answered in perfect sync.
"No objections."
Fwoosh!
Three sonic booms split the air as Bundy World, Crocodile, and Redfield launched themselves forward, each picking a Vice Admiral to duel.
Arthur watched them go, shaking his head.
"Speed's fine, but what matters is who finishes first."
His grin widened, and lightning flared around his feet.
"Let's end this quickly."
He shot forward like a thunderbolt — straight toward the last Vice Admiral still standing on deck.
Meanwhile, with the battlefield's strongest distracted, the remaining guards wasted no time hauling the bleeding Magellan away.
Truth be told, the man had already pushed himself beyond human limits. The fact that he was still conscious was nothing short of willpower.
On the warships, the Vice Admirals were still trying to make sense of what was happening.
"What the hell—why are the prisoners attacking us?!"
"Since when did Level Six inmates get this insane?!"
"Are we… are we sure we're the ones arresting them?!"
Bastille and Momonga exchanged equally dumbfounded looks.
For the first time in their careers, the Vice Admirals of Marine Headquarters were not the hunters — they were the hunted.
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