One Level-6 inmate was enough to take the edge off the hunger.
Dimon digested in silence—knowledge, experience, Haki—all of it absorbed and filed away.
Name and résumé didn't matter; at his peak the man had cleared 600 million in bounty and carried heavy Armament and Observation.
No Conqueror's, though.
Figures. Even down here, Conqueror's is rare stock.
"I can stomach a few more… keep going."
He ghosted through Eternal Hell, quietly devouring four prisoners before calling it a night. Full belly, time to digest.
Before he left, he chalk-scribed a handful of five-pointed magic arrays into hidden niches. If left undisturbed, they'd be his personal fast-travel runes.
Impel Down—now serving: all-you-can-eat.
"Thanks for the meal. I'll be back."
He came quiet, he left quieter. No one noticed Eternal Hell was four heads lighter.
By the time Dimon returned to the Shogunate, twilight still glowed over the Flower Capital.
The take was solid: both colors of Haki climbed; Observation in particular finally clicked into Future Sight—that advanced sense that peeks seconds ahead.
"First, the ninja."
He summoned Abel and had him lead the way.
They reached the jail at the Magistrate's Office.
In solitary, the kunoichi sat shackled hand and foot with Seastone.
The moment footsteps stopped at her bars, she bolted upright.
"Let me out—I'm innocent!"
Dimon snapped his fingers. A sigil lit underfoot, and a comfortable chair popped into being right behind him. He sat, crossed a leg.
"Let's talk. Who sent you to infiltrate the Shogun's manor?"
As he asked, he opened the door to Future Sight.
[No one sent me—I tripped and fell into the Shogun's mansion!]
"I… no one sent me," she blurted. "I just, um, accidentally… fell in."
"Do I look stupid?"
Please. He shook his head. "Let me guess—a daimyo put you up to it?"
Her pupils tightened—tiny, telling. Not much, but nothing gets past a man reading the next three seconds.
"So I'm right. Hakumai's daimyo—Shimotsuki Yasuie?"
Her shoulders trembled.
"Right again." Dimon couldn't help a chuckle. "For a ninja, you're… not great, kid."
In the stories, a cornered ninja bites the hidden capsule and checks out. In modern Wano, the Oniwabanshū had long since wagged for the Shogun; romance wasn't part of the curriculum.
The kunoichi sagged to her knees. "It was my idea alone. It has nothing to do with Lord Yasuie. If someone must die, let it be me!"
Dimon thought it over. In the original line, Shinobu belonged to the Oniwabanshū until 1494, when Kurozumi Orochi seized power and the others flipped; only then did she walk away. Here, Kozuki fell early—she'd never joined to begin with.
Looked like House Shimotsuki had simply… hired her.
"You're a Mature-Mature Fruit user, right?" Dimon's smile thinned. "The 'ripening' ninjutsu—out at sea we call it a Devil Fruit."
Her power could age anything she touched to maturity or decay, even "mature" a person's body—though not the mind—with no way back.
"When did you eat it?"
"When I was little," she whispered. "Ten years ago… I found it under a tree."
This island is crawling with Fruits, huh?
Kanjurō's Brush-Brush, Kin'emon's Clothes-Clothes, Raizō's Scroll-Scroll, little Tama's Dango… even a Mythical Zoan—Human-Human, Model: Daidarabotchi—ended up in a fox's belly.
And those were just the known ones.
"Good, good. Consider me reminded." He stood. "Keep her here for now."
"Yes, Lord Dimon."
Back at the manor, Dimon called in the Cat-Dog-Kappa trio. Two years had stretched them taller; he'd more or less raised them, and seeing the growth tugged a rare smile to his mouth.
"Shogun, you asked for us?" Kawamatsu was first to kneel.
"Kawamatsu. Inuarashi. Nekomamushi. Training's gone on long enough. Time for a proper task."
He handed Inuarashi the Devil Fruit index. "Recognize these?"
"Devil… Fruits?" Inuarashi tilted his head. "What would you have us do?"
"Find them. You've got a sharp nose—might help."
Inuarashi: "…"
He was of the Mink tribe, not a bloodhound. Sure, his nose was good, but come on.
Nekomamushi burst out laughing. "Doggy, it's an order from Lord Dimon. Work hard!"
"You're going with him, Cat."
"—Eh?" Nekomamushi went stone still. "But I'm a cat!"
Dimon scritched between his ears. "All three of you. Wano's littered with Fruits. Call it a training journey; the Capital's made you lazy."
They couldn't refuse—they'd eaten the Shogun's rice for years. It was time to pay dividends.
"If you find one or two, I'll call it a win. Even a mosquito's leg is still meat."
Impel Down.
"Bad news, Vice-Warden Magellan!"
Level 4, the lavatory.
Magellan, mid-ahem, heard someone pounding at the door.
"What's the emergency?"
"Level 6 inmates—escaped! Four men disappeared from their cells!"
"What?!"
He yanked up his pants and slammed the door open. "Hannyabal, did you just say escape?"
"Absolutely! No doubt about it!" Hannyabal didn't look particularly panicked—in fact, his eyes glittered. "Which, of course, means it falls under your negligence, Vice-Warden. So it's about time I—oops, said the quiet part out loud."
Magellan narrowed his eyes and pretended he hadn't heard it. "Does the Warden know?"
"Warden's been reassigned to Marineford—some kind of special op." Hannyabal scratched his chin. "Headquarters is making a move on the Roger Pirates. We've got to crush their momentum, bring the Pirate King in… that's what he said!"
Even Impel Down's No. 1 is being pulled? Magellan's gut knotted—
and for once not from the laxative lunch.
This was the real thing. A war was brewing.
Somewhere out on the Grand Line, three Marine task forces shifted their headings; cipher lines lit up like constellations; a dog-headed prow cut through spray. And on a certain ship with a lion-headed mast, a captain with a white grin looked into the wind and said, very softly:
"Let's see how much longer you can chase me, Garp."
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews.
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on P@treon if you're interested:
patreon.com/MugiwaraTL