Night fell.
The welcome banquet began.
Everyone in Impel Down—from Chief Warden Magellan down to the lowest-ranked guard—gathered in the mess hall to enjoy a rare feast.
And tonight's protagonist?
Naturally, the soon-to-be Chief Guard of Crimson Hell—Ian Adrian.
After a round of introductions, Ian officially blended into the Impel Down workforce.
"Working in Impel Down is harsh,"
Magellan said warmly, raising his glass toward Ian.
"But we're very glad to have you join us."
Magellan's impression of Ian was extremely positive.
Because he knew—this guy volunteered to work here.
What a wonderful, admirable young man!
Far better than certain… ambitious trash under his command.
But just as Magellan was about to drink—
Hannibal suddenly shot to his feet, jabbing a finger at the Chief Warden.
"Magellan! Don't sit here!
Move to another table!"
"Ah?"
Magellan froze, cup halfway to his mouth.
"This is a banquet!
A banquet!
How can you let the Chief Warden sit somewhere else!?"
"…Then why don't you step down from the Chief Warden's seat already!?"
Hannibal had once again "accidentally" exposed his ambition.
"Ahem! I misspoke! What I meant was—
Get out of my way!"
"Hannibal… you've gone too far."
Magellan sighed heavily, closing his eyes in pain.
"How did I ever end up with a subordinate as ungrateful as you…"
A thin swirl of pale violet gas drifted from Magellan's mouth, spreading outward.
Before Ian could react, someone grabbed him by the arm, dragging him quickly away from the table.
He turned and saw a woman with wavy blond hair—
Impel Down's Deputy Head Jailer, Domino.
"Chief Magellan is a Poison–Poison Fruit user—a poison man,"
Domino whispered, noticing Ian's glance.
"Even his breath is real poison.
Never get too close unless you're protected."
Right beside them, Hannibal also hurried to cover his nose and mouth.
"Magellan! You're poisoning the air again!"
"Ahahahaha!"
Magellan didn't feel guilty at all.
He pointed at Hannibal and openly mocked him.
"You're absolutely right!
Serves you right, you idiot subordinate!"
A few thick veins sprang up on Hannibal's forehead, making his already-fierce face even more frightening.
"You bastard! Damn you!"
Ian watched their fight with relish.
Fake workplace politics:
Scheming, manipulation, subtle strategy.
Real workplace politics:
Poisoning your coworkers.
Breaking your colleague's legs to climb the promotion ladder.
At this moment, a famous line materialized in his mind—
"In Impel Down, everyone's talented—and they all talk so nicely!"
Just then…
A cold, detached voice cut through the noise.
"Pathetic clowning."
A man rose from the table and strode away without so much as glancing at anyone.
Rain of the Underworld—Shiryu.
The bickering Magellan and Hannibal immediately fell silent.
"Shiryu!"
Magellan's face turned stern.
"Where are you going?"
Shiryu halted but didn't turn back.
"To stretch my legs downstairs."
"You are NOT allowed to—!"
Magellan tried to speak, but—
"Magellan."
Shiryu turned his head, hand resting on the hilt of his blade, Thunderstorm, his eyes frigid.
"I am the Deputy Chief Warden of Impel Down.
I don't need your permission to act."
Their gazes collided—
crackling tension sparking between them.
Even loud-mouthed Hannibal shut his lips tight, terrified to make a sound.
Magellan stared at Shiryu for a moment…
but eventually said nothing.
Shiryu left.
Magellan slumped into his seat.
"Sorry, Ian."
He forced a smile at the newcomer.
"You had to witness that.
Everyone, continue eating… drinking…"
But with such a scene, the banquet atmosphere had been completely ruined.
In the end, the welcome party dissolved early.
Returning to his assigned private quarters—one of the perks of being a Chief Guard—Ian sat down and replayed everything in his mind.
"Rain Shiryu…
When exactly did Magellan throw him into Infinite Hell?"
He thought and thought, but found no clear answer.
He only remembered that by the time Luffy stormed Impel Down, Shiryu was already a prisoner in Level 6.
And Hannibal, at that time, wasn't Head Jailer—he was Deputy Chief Warden.
Meaning:
Shiryu's fall happened within these few years.
"Infinite Hell… I want to go too…"
Ian shook his head, pushing the thought aside.
He summoned the Silver Chest he had earned from defeating the Blugori.
Because of the banquet, he hadn't used it yet.
Now that he was alone, he certainly wasn't going to leave a Silver Chest unopened.
He already understood how System Chests worked for "attribute enhancement."
He hadn't tried the "wish" function yet.
But he didn't plan on wishing.
Zeffa's words echoed in his mind—
Only the body is the foundation.
And then Kaido's—
Only Haki stands above all.
At the current stage, Ian didn't desperately need Haki.
More importantly—
He strongly suspected Haki required a sufficiently strong physique to fully display its power.
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