At the same time, Hannyabal was sprinting toward Level Six, leading a column of Blugori and jailer beasts at full speed.
"That diarrhea-obsessed Magellan suddenly calls me to Level Six… what's he up to now? Did something happen?" he muttered nervously, his expression tightening.
But the worry lasted only a second before his mood flipped entirely. His eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration.
"Wait a minute… if something did happen, doesn't that mean that diarrhea maniac is about to lose his position?"
He puffed up his chest and let out a smug, scheming laugh.
"When that happens, the throne of Impel Down will finally belong to Lord Hannyabal! Fufufufu!"
In his mind, he could already see himself sitting grandly on Magellan's chair, the spotlight shining down as everyone applauded him — the great new warden.
He burst out laughing, lost in his daydream.
What Hannyabal didn't know was that, deep in the Eternal Hell, the air had already thickened with the stench of death.
Before Lucian Vale lay seven or eight corpses in torn prison uniforms — the remains of fools who had attacked him after freeing themselves from their Sea-Prism Stone shackles.
"Brat, I don't know what you're plotting, but I should thank you," Waldo said, grinning wide. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have been freed! Wahahahaha!"
Lucian didn't respond. His cold gaze swept over the remaining pirates.
"Anyone else feel like making a move against me?"
The words dropped like lead. The rest of the pirates stumbled backward, fear painted on their faces.
They had been completely broken.
Seven or eight pirates — each with bounties over a hundred million — had been erased in an instant, with a single technique.
Attacking this man again wasn't bravery. It was suicide.
"Since no one else dares," Lucian said quietly, "then get to work. I want chaos in every corner of Impel Down."
His tone was calm, almost casual. But the threat beneath it was unmistakable.
"If you can't even accomplish that much," he added, "then you don't deserve to keep living."
Lucian turned toward the exit of Level Six.
Forty years ago, he had been dragged through that very path in chains.
Now, he would walk out freely — step by step.
Besides, he wasn't leaving just yet. He still had a "gift" to prepare — something special for Sengoku and Garp.
"Wahahahaha! This brat hasn't changed at all — still heartless as ever!" Waldo bellowed with glee as he followed.
After decades of imprisonment in the dark, he was itching to feel blood and chaos again.
The others, shaken by what they had seen, began obeying immediately. They would rather face the Marines than anger Lucian Vale.
But as Lucian neared the exit, he stopped.
The passage ahead was blocked by dozens of guards and giant Blugori.
"I was wondering why I hadn't seen a single guard earlier," Lucian said with faint amusement. "So you were hiding here to ambush us — and called for reinforcements above."
He looked at the formation before him, expression unreadable.
"Damn pirate! Surrender now and crawl back to your cell, or you'll regret it!" the lead guard barked.
Lucian's lips curved slightly.
"Just you lot? Forget it."
He glanced at Waldo and the others. "You don't interest me… but my friends seem eager to play."
Lucian's hand moved to his waist.
In a smooth, practiced motion, he drew his Zanpakutō — holding it in a reverse grip, blade down, steel gleaming like frozen moonlight.
"Shatter— Kyōka Suigetsu."
A soft chime of steel — shing.
A flash of ethereal blue light rippled across the blade.
The guards blinked — and the world twisted.
Their comrades beside them began to morph before their eyes, turning into grotesque, rotting monsters, dripping with blood and stench.
The weak-willed fell instantly, some fainting, others collapsing to their knees as bile rose in their throats.
Sight, sound, scent, taste, touch — every sense was deceived.
There was no escape from Kyōka Suigetsu's illusion.
"Ahhhh!!!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!!!
Gunfire erupted in every direction. Guards screamed as they turned on one another.
The jailer beasts fell under the spell as well.
In their minds, the guards were no longer men — but chunks of living meat.
Matyocota, the beast with a lion's body and the face of an old man, was the first to break. With a guttural snarl, it lunged forward and sank its fangs into a guard, ripping him apart in a frenzy.
The scent of blood triggered the others.
One by one, the beasts charged in, their claws tearing through flesh, their jaws cracking bones. The guards shrieked as their own allies carved them to pieces.
If anyone else had seen this massacre, they would have been horrified beyond words.
Bodies were torn apart — arms, legs, organs strewn across the floor, blood painting the cold iron walls.
And yet, under Kyōka Suigetsu's spell, the guards couldn't see the truth.
They continued fighting blindly, cutting down anything that moved, believing they were battling monsters from the abyss.
Lucian watched, calm and detached.
"Kyōka Suigetsu really is a marvelous ability," he murmured. "Though… a little troublesome."
The thought faded quickly.
In three months, another inheritance would be complete. Another Zanpakutō. Another layer of power.
Why worry now?
For the moment, he was content to enjoy the show.
Ten minutes later, not a single guard remained. The beasts had devoured them all, blood splattered like abstract art on stone and steel.
Then, with another whisper of his blade, the illusion shifted.
In the eyes of the beasts, one another now appeared as prey — their most desired meal.
The slaughter resumed, even more savage than before.
Seven minutes later, silence returned.
Lucian sighed softly. "Messy, but genuine. I'll give it that."
He turned toward a shadowed corner.
Clap… clap… clap…
A man stepped out, wearing a pilot's cap and a cigarette hanging from his lips. A thin smile curved his face.
"Hahahaha! That was magnificent. Even I, Shiryu of the Rain, am impressed."
Lucian smiled faintly. "Oh? Former Head Jailer Shiryu. Interested in performing next?"
Shiryu smirked, his eyes gleaming with bloodlust. "Of course. If you can best me, I'll gladly become your actor. But if not… then you'll become mine."
The thirst in his gaze was unmistakable — raw, wild, hungry.
Since being imprisoned for slaughtering inmates at will, Shiryu's lust for killing had been buried deep. Watching Lucian's orchestrated massacre had awoken it completely.
To him, that scene was pure art. His only regret was that he hadn't been part of it.
Lucian studied him for a moment, then smiled.
"You're quite the interesting man. I've never met someone who craves death so eagerly."
He raised his blade, Kyōka Suigetsu glinting faintly in the blood-soaked light.
"In that case," he said softly, "I'll grant your wish."
"I'll show mercy — and give you death."
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T/N:
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