Year 1510, Sea Circle Calendar — Impel Down, Crimson Lotus Hell.
The moment hung heavy, like a breath the prison refused to exhale.
Ryoku Vale stood in the crimson-lit arena, drenched in sweat, blood dripping from his knuckles.
The corpse of Number 38 still twitched faintly at his feet.
"You think you can mock us now, scum?"
One of the guards barked, forcing bravado into his cracking voice.
Ryoku didn't even look at him.
"You owe me five million Berries," he said quietly.
It wasn't a demand. It was a statement of fact.
The guards scoffed.
The prisoners laughed.
But above, Saldeath rose from his throne.
He descended into the arena, trident in hand, face unreadable.
Without a word, he kicked Number 38's corpse aside like garbage.
"No more games, worm," Saldeath sneered, stepping closer, his breath reeking of arrogance and rot.
"Let's make it simple," he said, raising the trident. "We fight. If I win, you die. If by some miracle you win... I'll give you your money."
Ryoku tilted his head slightly, eyes hollow.
"I accept. But if I win, you don't just hand over Berries."
"You die."
The arena fell into a hush.
The prisoners stared, wide-eyed.
The guards hissed and jeered.
Saldeath's sneer twisted into a snarl.
"You'll regret that, rat."
He lunged.
The seal stirred again, ancient and insatiable.
Unseal the Beast.
Tear the flesh.
Feed the curse.
Ryoku's bones screamed in protest as he forced the Gate open once more.
The chakra clawed its way through him, boiling his blood, snapping muscle fibers like strings of thread.
He staggered forward, each movement ripping through his own body.
Saldeath's trident shot toward his chest.
"Leaf Instant Body."
His whisper was drowned in the roar of the crowd.
In an instant, he vanished.
Appearing behind Saldeath like a ghost.
Saldeath froze, instincts screaming, but too slow.
Ryoku's foot blurred in a deadly arc.
"Dynamic Entry."
The kick connected with Saldeath's spine.
"Boom!"
Saldeath crashed into the stone floor, skidding across the arena, his grotesque body crumpling in a heap.
The prisoners screamed, banging on their cells like madmen.
Their tormentor had fallen.
But Ryoku barely heard them.
His breath was ragged.
His limbs trembled.
He was tearing apart inside.
But the seal whispered approval.
This is the way of struggle. This is the path of the vessel.
The guards scrambled, panic breaking their ranks.
"Call Sadie! Lock down the floor! Bring the Blue Gorillas!"
Some tried to flee, others leveled rifles at him.
Ryoku didn't chase them.
He stared into the Den Den Mushi's cold, lifeless eye.
They saw him.
They all saw him.
Good.
Let them come.
The next wave opened fire.
He blurred forward, ignoring the pain screaming through every nerve.
Every movement carved deeper into his flesh.
Every strike was a gamble with his own body.
But he kept going.
He had no choice.
He was past the point of survival.
This was war.
Bodies fell around him.
The prisoners roared louder.
"Bro! Free us! Tear it all down!"
Their voices were knives in his skull.
Ryoku's eyes flicked to the Den Den Mushi again.
"Fine," he whispered, cold and hollow.
"Let's see if hell can drown in its own blood."