Lakeman turned and left Eternal Hell.
Redfield followed half a step behind him, silent and obedient.
Inside the cells, Shiki and Bullet watched them disappear into the corridor.
Questions filled their minds, but neither spoke. Pride held them back. Fear silenced what pride could not.
What was the black Haki?
What slept beneath the Florian Triangle?
How had Lakeman restored Redfield's youth?
By the time they gathered themselves, the elevator doors had already closed.
Shiki's expression darkened.
'The sea has changed.'
Bullet clenched his fists.
'No. Maybe it was always this deep. We were just never standing high enough to see it.'
The elevator rose slowly from the sixth floor.
Eternal Hell disappeared beneath them.
A short while later, the doors opened on the fifth floor, Freezing Hell.
The moment Lakeman stepped out with Redfield behind him, the surveillance Den Den Mushi nearby captured their images.
Lakeman had only stunned the Den Den Mushi on the sixth floor. The ones above were still awake.
Soon, the image was transmitted to the monitoring room on the first floor.
For a few seconds, the guards stared at the screen in confusion.
Then panic erupted.
"A prisoner escaped."
"Someone came out of Eternal Hell."
"Report to the warden."
"Call Chief Jailer Shiryu."
Several guards rushed out at once. Papers scattered across the floor as Den Den Mushi rang one after another.
A group of guards quickly found Shiryu, who was stationed on the first floor.
"Chief Jailer Shiryu."
"Prisoners are being released."
Shiryu opened his eyes, annoyed.
"Calm down and speak clearly."
The guard took a breath and said, "Saint Lakeman came out from the lower levels. Someone was following him. We do not recognize the man, but he came from Eternal Hell."
Shiryu's expression sharpened.
"A prisoner from Eternal Hell?"
"Yes."
Shiryu stood up.
"Take me to the monitoring room."
At the same time, another group had already contacted Magellan.
Before long, both Magellan and Shiryu stood before the surveillance screen. The guards stepped aside nervously.
The recording replayed.
The elevator opened.
Lakeman walked out calmly.
Behind him came a young-looking man with a noble, dangerous aura.
Magellan frowned at first.
Then his face changed.
Shiryu's hand moved toward his sword.
"Patrick Redfield," Shiryu said quietly.
The room fell silent.
Most ordinary guards did not know the name. Redfield's existence had long been buried in secrecy. But Magellan and Shiryu knew exactly who he was.
The Lonely Red.
A legendary monster from the old era.
A man whose capture had once required the joint efforts of both Kong and Garp.
Yet the man in the recording no longer looked old and weakened. His body had regained youth, his posture was straight, and his presence felt sharper than before.
A guard swallowed and asked, "Warden, should we intercept him?"
Shiryu glanced at him as if he were insane.
Magellan remained silent for a moment.
Intercept someone, Saint Lakeman has released?
With what authority?
With what strength?
Even without his Celestial Dragon status, Lakeman could crush Impel Down by himself. With that status, no one here had the right to question him.
Magellan took a deep breath.
"No one moves without orders."
"Yes, Warden."
Magellan looked at the screen again.
"As warden, I still have to report this."
Shiryu did not object. They could not stop Lakeman, but pretending nothing had happened would only bring trouble later.
Magellan picked up a Den Den Mushi and called Marine Headquarters.
"Buru buru buru."
"Buru buru buru."
"Gacha."
At Marine Headquarters, Sengoku picked up the call.
"This is Sengoku."
"Marshal Sengoku, this is Magellan."
Sengoku frowned.
"What happened?"
Magellan hesitated for half a second before answering.
"Saint Lakeman has taken a prisoner from Eternal Hell."
Sengoku's eyelid twitched.
"Which prisoner?"
"Patrick Redfield."
The office became quiet.
Tsuru raised her eyes from her tea.
Garp, sitting sullenly in the corner, also looked over.
Sengoku's hand tightened around the Den Den Mushi. A headache rose almost instantly.
'That troublesome brat.'
In his mind, Sengoku cursed Lakeman again and again. But anger changed nothing.
The current Saint Lakeman was not someone Marine Headquarters could handle.
Sengoku knew enough about the battle between Lakeman and Imu. That clash had shaken seas and land alike.
Disasters had spread across the world, and from that point on, Lakeman's position had become something no one could openly challenge.
He was no longer merely a powerful Celestial Dragon.
He was the hidden ruler above the World Government.
Sengoku closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke in a firm voice.
"Magellan."
"Yes, Marshal."
"Do not interfere."
Magellan went quiet.
Sengoku continued, "If Saint Lakeman wants Redfield, then Redfield is his. If he wants to kill a prisoner, let him kill. If he wants to empty the entire prison, your duty is to cooperate, not resist."
Magellan's voice became heavy.
"Understood."
"Make sure Shiryu and the guards understand this as well. No one is to defy Saint Lakeman."
"Yes, Marshal."
"Maintain order. That is all."
"Gacha."
The call ended.
Sengoku leaned back and rubbed his forehead.
Tsuru calmly placed her teacup down.
"You should not waste energy on things beyond your control."
Sengoku glared at her.
"That is easy to say when I am the one receiving the reports."
Tsuru's tone remained even.
"Redfield is dangerous, but beside Saint Lakeman, he is not the problem."
Sengoku's face twitched.
He hated that she was right.
Garp snorted from the corner.
"That bastard brat."
Sengoku looked at him.
"Garp."
Garp ignored the warning in his tone and continued.
"Can he not just go to Mariejois and rule the world quietly? Why does he have to cause headaches every few days?"
Sengoku almost laughed from anger.
"You think I do not want to ask the same thing?"
Tsuru shook her head.
"Complaining will not change his actions."
Sengoku sighed.
The worst part was that Marine Headquarters was already strained.
The three Admirals were still entangled with Big Mom and Kaido.
Officially, it was a major operation against two emperors. In truth, everyone at the top understood another reason.
They were proving their usefulness to Lakeman.
They were showing that the Navy could still act as a blade under the new order.
And while they were doing that, Lakeman had casually walked into Impel Down and taken away Patrick Redfield.
Sengoku covered his face with one hand.
"This world is becoming more ridiculous every day."
Garp muttered, "It became ridiculous the day that brat was born."
Tsuru did not argue.
Around the same time, Mariejois also received the news.
Magellan did not report directly to the Five Elders after Sengoku's order. The information reached them through another path.
Shakky.
After seeing Lakeman return toward the villa with Redfield following behind him, she informed Stussy through their hidden telepathic network.
It was not because Lakeman needed permission. It was to stop unnecessary chaos before it grew.
Stussy received the message and smiled faintly.
'Master Lakeman truly does whatever he wants.'
A moment later, she brought the matter to the Five Elders as she sat in her seat.
Only four of them were present. Saint Nusjuro was away on vacation, which made the others feel more tired than envious.
In the past, kings had trembled before them. Admirals treated them with respect.
The world moved according to their orders.
Now they had to clean up after their new master's casual decisions.
One Elder sighed.
"Patrick Redfield."
Another rubbed his brow.
"That monster was not supposed to leave Eternal Hell."
Stussy stood gracefully to the side.
"Since Master Lakeman has taken him as a dog, his status should be changed."
The four Elders looked at her.
She continued, "Revoke any active bounty, pursuit order, and escape alert. From this moment onward, Patrick Redfield is not an escaped prisoner. He is a classified asset under Master Lakeman's custody."
The room remained quiet for a breath.
Then one Elder nodded.
"Reasonable."
Another said, "Agreed."
"There is no need to trouble Master Lakeman over a prisoner he has already claimed."
"Send the order."
Stussy's smile deepened slightly.
Soon, Mariejois issued the notice.
Marine Headquarters received it.
Impel Down received it.
All relevant records were adjusted.
Patrick Redfield was no longer listed as an escaped legendary criminal. He had become a classified asset under Saint Lakeman's authority.
When Sengoku saw the order, his face darkened again.
'Those old men move quickly when they want to avoid responsibility.'
He cursed the Five Elders in his heart, unaware that he had missed the person who had actually guided the decision.
Stussy.
Back in Impel Down, Magellan and Shiryu received both Sengoku's instruction and Mariejois's official order.
The two looked at each other and sighed in relief.
At least now, no one could blame them.
Magellan said, "Record it as an order from above."
Shiryu nodded.
"Understood."
The guards in the monitoring room also relaxed.
If Marine Headquarters and Mariejois had approved it, then this was no longer an escape.
It was a transfer.
A terrifying transfer, but still a transfer.
Meanwhile, the person who had caused the entire storm had already returned to the villa on the fifth floor.
Outside, the Frozen Hell remained a monochromatic wasteland, a void of white silence where the only movement came from the swirling drifts of ice and the occasional, rattling breath of a dying prisoner.
The wind howled through the cavernous depths of Level Five, a predatory shriek that promised a numb, colorless death to anyone foolish enough to step beyond the reinforced walls.
Inside the villa, the world shifted.
Warmth clung to the air, thick with the scent of vanilla, expensive sandalwood, and the underlying, electric musk of anticipation.
Golden light spilled from crystal chandeliers, casting soft glows over polished mahogany furniture and plush, deep-crimson carpets that swallowed the sound of footsteps.
Hidden thermal arrays hummed beneath the floors, banishing the Arctic chill of the prison.
The women waited.
They gathered in the grand foyer and the sprawling lounges, a collection of the world's most lethal and beautiful creatures, now reduced to a state of humming, desperate hunger.
Robin leaned against a marble pillar, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes tracking the door with a predatory stillness.
Lily stood beside her, the pristine white of her maid's uniform contrasting with the flush of her cheeks.
Shakky, Mirana, Makino, Viola, Scarlett, Stella, Koala—each one a masterpiece of biological perfection, their bodies humming with the life essence Lakeman had woven into their marrow.
The heavy oak doors groaned open.
Lakeman stepped inside.
His silhouette framed by the dying light of the hallway, he looked every bit the conqueror, but beneath the surface, a hairline fracture remained in his psyche.
The image of that lightless black spark, the conqueror haki he had encountered in Redfield's mind, still flickered at the edge of his consciousness.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the tension in his shoulders didn't just fade; it was devoured.
"Master."
The word was a collective exhale, a prayer, and a plea.
Koala didn't wait for a command. She launched herself at him, her small, toned body colliding with his chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her breath hot against his skin.
"You're back. You're finally back."
Lakeman didn't speak. He reached down, his hand fisting in Koala's orange hair, and tilted her head back.
He could see the dilated pupils, the trembling lip, the absolute, unwavering devotion.
He felt the need for it—the raw, physical noise of debauchery to drown out the silence of that black Haki.
"To the bedroom."
The transition was a blur of motion and discarded clothing. As they moved through the villa, the air became a battlefield of touch.
Hands grazed his thighs; lips pressed against his neck; soft breasts brushed against his arms.
By the time they reached the master suite, the silence was gone, replaced by the wet, rhythmic sounds of surrender.
The bed was a vast expanse of black silk, a dark altar designed for the desecration of purity.
Lakeman sat at the edge, his clothes already gone, his massive cock pulsing with a hungry, angry rhythm.
Robin knelt between his legs. Her dark eyes looked up at him, shimmering with a mixture of intellectual curiosity and primal lust.
"Let me melt all your tensions, Master."
She didn't wait for an answer. Her lips wrapped around the head of his cock with a practiced, vacuum-like suction.
Slurp.
Lakeman groaned, his head snapping back.
"Uuhmm"
The sensation was a lightning strike, grounding him. He felt the friction of her tongue swirling around the corona, the heat of her mouth molding to the girth of his dick.
"Gawk—"
He shoved his hips forward, burying his cock deep in her throat.
Robin's eyes rolled back, her throat muscles convulsing as she fought to accommodate the intrusion.
Slurp. Slurp.
Gawghk.
"Use your hands, Robin."
Two more sets of arms sprouted from the silk sheets, their palms sliding up his calves, kneading his thighs. A third set began to massage his chest, their fingers digging into his muscles, while another one sprouted solely to massage his aching, cum filled heavy balls.
"Mmmph—"
Robin's muffled moan vibrated through his shaft. Lakeman reached down, gripping her hair and steering her head like a rudder.
He increased the pace, the sound of his balls slapping against her chin creating a wet, lewd rhythm.
Pah.
Pah.
Pah.
Beside them, Makino and Stella had already stripped.
The former bartender, now a powerhouse of a woman, crawled toward him on all fours.
Her breasts, full and heavy, swayed with every movement. She reached out, her tongue flicking over the base of his cock, cleaning the stray drops of pre-cum with worshipful precision.
"Please, Master... let me feel you inside."
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