"Poor guy."
Pirate Yujin sighed, thinking about how tough life was for the Uchiha Yujin.
The worst part was that Uchiha Yujin had temporarily escaped danger, yet he still had to search for that legendary place in the middle of this heavy snow.
Very few people had ever reached Level 5.5.
Even if he followed Luffy from the original story and retraced the steps through Impel Down, there was no way he could find the entrance to Level 5.5.
The extreme cold of Freezing Hell was one thing, but the snow made visibility even worse.
The pirate Yujin even wondered if the entrance to Level 5.5 was really hidden somewhere beneath these ancient ice layers.
He tightened the wolf pelt around his body and sneezed.
Although the snow made his search mostly fruitless, at least it had hidden him from the guards' sight.
Occasionally eating a military wolf, avoiding beatings, and not starving… wasn't that, in some way, a kind of freedom?
But no matter what, he had to find the location of Level 5.5.
With his current strength, he couldn't take on either Shiryu or the poison master Magellan.
He also had to consider how to avoid the Calm Belt outside Impel Down, the warships, and the Sea Kings.
Even if he could fly, he couldn't stay in the air forever.
He couldn't afford to gamble.
If he tried to escape and failed, and his ability to fly was discovered, would he be sent straight to Eternal Hell?
If he could reach Level 5.5, he would get food, a better training environment, and no more torture. He would also have enough time to strengthen his abilities.
"Awooo~"
A wolf's howl woke the somewhat drowsy pirate Yujin.
He wiped the frozen snot from his nose and walked toward the sound of the howl.
After a while, a squad of six guards wearing winter gear passed by.
Even with protective clothing, one of the guards sneezed under his mask. "Achoo!"
Wiping his nose, the guard said, "This prisoner's vitality is incredible. To survive this long in extreme cold… does he not feel the cold?"
"How could he not? According to the data, this kid doesn't even have a bounty, and his true strength is far below that of any prisoner in Starvation Hell. The only reason he's lasted this long here is that he must have a way to keep warm."
"Too bad the surveillance den-den mushi can't adapt to this level's environment, or else…"
A few of them trembled as they walked, unaware that a figure was following them.
Snow fell like goose feathers, drifting and blurring their view.
The prison guards' squad trudged through the frozen wasteland, each man shaking from the cold and moving with heavy, sluggish steps.
Suddenly, the guard at the very front seemed to sense something; his body froze and his eyes locked onto a hazy shape ahead.
The other guards went on alert at once, their faces tightening as their hands instinctively moved toward the weapons at their waists.
Gradually, a figure emerged from the swirling snow.
As the outline became clearer, the guards first went still, then recognized the newcomer—Head Jailer Shiryu.
In an instant, their taut nerves relaxed and they all breathed out, relief showing on their faces.
The guard at the front reacted fastest, eager to curry favor with his superior.
He hurriedly pulled from his chest a cigar he had treasured for a long time, his face plastered with a sycophantic smile as he ran up to greet Shiryu.
He bent slightly and held the cigar in both hands, presenting it respectfully.
"How fortunate to see you here," he gushed. "Your personal presence moves us deeply."
His eyes shone with flattery as he hoped to make a good impression on the Head Jailer.
But just as he reached to take out a lighter to ignite the cigar—
A cold, cruel glint suddenly flashed through Shiryu's otherwise calm eyes.
Before anyone could react, a blade of cold light streaked out.
The guard felt a searing pain in his arm, and then watched in horror as his arm tore free from his body and flew away.
Blood spurted onto the pristine snow like a fountain, the bright red stark against the white, instantly staining the surrounding drifts.
The rumors of merciless violence were proven true in that moment.
"Shiryu! Lord Shiryu! Wh—what did I do wrong?"
The guard, now armless, crumpled to the ground in agony, his face drained of color as he cried out.
Heh.
Shiryu didn't need a reason to kill.
If one must be given—
"The snow here buries everything. If you die, no one will ever know it was me."
"Wh-why… why are you doing this!"
The one-armed prison guard cried out in despair.
"Because," Shiryu exhaled a smoke ring, "I enjoy killing."
A cruel light flickered in the eyes of Shiryu.
He raised his blade and instantly severed the head of the one-armed guard before him.
His movements were like lightning, appearing in an instant before the next group of guards.
The famed sword Raiu flashed in his hands, a cold gleam cutting through the air.
One guard raised his weapon in terror to block him.
But Shiryu merely flicked his blade, sending the weapon flying, and with a swift reverse strike, slashed through the guard's throat.
Blood erupted like a fountain, staining the snow beneath him red.
Another guard attempted a flanking attack.
But Shiryu moved as if he had eyes on the back of his head, sidestepping and kicking the guard squarely in the stomach.
The guard flew backward like a broken kite, crashing heavily into a tree, blood spilling from his mouth.
Before he could even recover, Shiryu appeared before him like a phantom.
His long blade plunged straight into the guard's chest, twisting violently.
The guard convulsed in pain before falling still.
Some guards tried to flee, but in this frozen wasteland, none could outrun Shiryu.
With a few agile leaps, he caught up to a fleeing guard.
From behind, he swung his blade, cutting through both of the guard's legs.
The guard screamed in agony as he collapsed.
Shiryu showed no mercy.
His long blade fell, ending the guard's pitiful cries instantly.
Soon, six guards lay scattered across the snow, their blood turning the white ground into a crimson field of carnage.
Shiryu stood amidst the blood, his face devoid of guilt or pity.
Instead, it bore a twisted satisfaction.
Suddenly, he sensed something.
He lifted his head sharply, staring into the distance.
A smile spread across his face—broader, more intense than the one he had worn while slaughtering the guards.
It was a smile filled with anticipation and excitement.
Without hesitation, he dashed toward that direction, his footsteps quick and urgent, as if some priceless treasure awaited him there.
Behind him lay only the bloodied, silent snow, and six lifeless bodies.
Time passed.
Shiryu came to a stop.
He scraped the snow with his blade and unearthed a few chunks of cold, charred charcoal.
His gaze fixed ahead, and he strode forward again, each step filled with purpose.
The smile on his face grew even more intense.
****
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