Bullet probably died without ever knowing why Diarmuid had traveled a thousand miles just to kill him. After all, there was no great personal enmity between them.
The moment Diarmuid grabbed him, that dark power made him feel profoundly ill. Because he was already wearing Seastone shackles, Bullet couldn't manifest his abilities to begin with. Being locked down by the power of the Dark-Dark Fruit felt like nothing more than a localized void, though his instincts screamed in primal terror.
No sooner had Diarmuid's "farewell" left his lips than Bullet felt a sharp, piercing pain in his chest. He forced his head down to see Diarmuid's other hand already buried deep within his ribcage.
The pain of a punctured heart...
To be honest, Bullet was a man of greater resolve than Shanks. At this point, Shanks had already grown despondent, reduced to barking like a "loser" in front of Diarmuid. But Bullet had never let go of hope. Throughout his years of imprisonment, he had never stopped training, honing his physical strength; even while bound by Seastone, he never ceased pushing his limits.
But in the end, he would never get his chance to return to the four seas and challenge the world's elite. The light of defiance in his eyes slowly faded. Until his final breath, Bullet never made a sound, nor did he utter a single word of plea.
"A real man to the end. What a waste," Diarmuid remarked with a hint of regret, his hand swirling with dark energy as he pulled something out from within Bullet's body.
Behind him, Magellan was utterly stunned. He never expected this Marine Admiral to suddenly commit cold-blooded murder. What is going on? Didn't he say he came to bring fruit and 'visit' the prisoners?
Magellan had assumed Diarmuid was just indulging some twisted sense of humor; he hadn't expected a summary execution. If the power of the Clank-Clank Fruit were to leak out...
While Magellan stood paralyzed, unable to process the scene for several moments, Vergo was already moving with practiced ease. He stepped forward and flipped open his fruit box, revealing a variety of ordinary fruits.
Diarmuid, his hand clutching a dense, dark aura that seemed to cage an invisible force, reached his blood-stained arm into the crate, hovering over the contents.
After a moment, a melon trembled slightly. Diarmuid's eyes lit up. He guided the dark energy downward, rapidly implanting the invisible power into the melon.
It was then that Magellan finally snapped out of it. Looking at Bullet's lifeless corpse on the floor, he said with a darkened expression, "Admiral, such bloodlust will harm your reputation... and their abilities..."
Before Magellan could finish, his eyes widened so far they nearly bulged out of his head. He looked like he'd been struck by lightning.
He saw Diarmuid's movements: as the dark energy was slowly absorbed back into the Admiral's body, the once-ordinary melon began to sprout bizarre, swirling patterns. This...
As a Devil Fruit user himself, Magellan recognized the transformation instantly. There was no mistaking it, that was a Devil Fruit!
"What is it?" Diarmuid asked, finally withdrawing his "divine technique" and turning to give Magellan a curious look. He hadn't really heard Magellan's previous protest, as he had been concentrating intensely on guiding the fruit's birth.
Magellan was no fool. He had just watched Diarmuid kill Bullet and then, moments later, inexplicably manifest a Devil Fruit. Furthermore, based on everything he knew, Admiral Diarmuid wasn't some psychopathic serial killer; he was nothing like that bastard Shiryu.
He realized that the Admiral must have a method to seize the power of Devil Fruits from others. If that were the case, there was absolutely no reason to stop him.
Magellan possessed zero empathy for the inmates of Impel Down, let alone any "humanitarian spirit." His earlier attempt to intervene was merely out of a distaste for senseless killing and the fear that these dangerous powers would escape back into the world.
After all, Diarmuid was a Marine Admiral; he could kill to his heart's content and then pat his ass and leave. If those powers reappeared on the high seas and caused chaos, it would be Impel Down that took the blame.
But now that he understood what was happening, Magellan was speechless. Who cared if these villainous pirates died? If they died quickly and their powers didn't leak out, it further lightened the burden on Impel Down. Moreover, they were contributing their strength to the righteous Marines.
There's a benefit like this?
Magellan's perspective shifted instantly. He quickly spoke up: "Admiral, this won't do."
Diarmuid was surprised. From what he remembered, Magellan wasn't some pedantic moralist. In critical moments at Impel Down, the man was known to strike decisively and lethally. Why was he trying to talk him out of it?
But just as Diarmuid frowned, wondering how to explain the situation, Magellan continued:
"There is far too much blood; it will only soil your hands. How about I provide you with a blade?"
Vergo looked at Magellan with a look of utter shock. You thick-browed, big-eyed fellow, you look the picture of integrity, yet you're actually a bootlicker too? Vergo couldn't let Magellan steal his thunder; only he was allowed to flatter the Admiral!
Thus, Vergo immediately spoke up: "Exactly, Admiral! I brought a blade right here..."
As he spoke, Vergo shifted the fruit box to one arm and pulled out his prized dagger with the other.
Diarmuid: "???" Are you two having a mental breakdown?
Magellan was close enough to see exactly what Diarmuid had done to create a Devil Fruit. But Rayleigh and Shanks were too far away. All they saw was Bullet attempting a sneak attack, failing, and then Diarmuid reaching into his chest and crushing his heart in a scene of absolute gore.
Is that really necessary? They were all figures of status and power. Killing a prisoner over a single disagreement?
The sight was so gruesome that Shanks lost the nerve to keep shouting. He tried to retreat into his cell, but in his haste, his head got stuck between the iron bars. He was trapped, unable to pull back and unable to push through, leaving him in an agonizing position. Terrified that Diarmuid would take the opportunity to crush his skull with a single palm strike, Shanks began to sweat profusely.
Diarmuid couldn't be bothered with Shanks' circus act. He ignored the two "bootlickers," Vergo and Magellan, and turned his gaze toward Rayleigh.
Rayleigh took a step back, swallowed hard, and gave a dry laugh. "There's no need for that, is there? I have no grievance with you."
"Bullet had no grievance with me either," Diarmuid said with a wicked smile.
Then why did you kill him?! Rayleigh screamed internally, but he didn't dare say it aloud. He just gave Diarmuid a weak, apprehensive smile.
"It's lucky that neither you nor that madman next door have powers. You aren't Devil Fruit users, otherwise, you wouldn't escape death today," Diarmuid said with a sigh.
He actually sounded... disappointed. Disappointed that Rayleigh wasn't an Ability User.
Rayleigh still didn't understand. What did this have to do with being an Ability User? The idea of stealing powers was simply too fantastical; even with Diarmuid's bizarre behavior, Rayleigh hadn't connected the dots.
Having secured the Clank-Clank Fruit, Diarmuid didn't want to waste any more breath on pirates like Shanks and Rayleigh. He turned to Magellan. "Have someone clean up the body and give it a proper burial. Let's move. Let's go see 'Blood Plague' Craster, 'Crescent Moon Hunter' Catarina Devon, and that old popsicle World... By the way, are there many Ability Users on Level 6?"
As he spoke, Diarmuid continued down the corridor. Magellan turned to give orders to the Level 6 jailers and then caught up. "Yes, quite a few. They are all vicious criminals; there's no need to hold back... By the way, Admiral, are you sure you don't want the blade?"
"No need. My methods are a bit... specialized," Diarmuid replied, sounding slightly pained by the suggestion.
Watching Diarmuid's group disappear into the distance, Rayleigh remained silent for a long time. Then he looked over at Shanks and nearly burst out laughing.
Shanks, his head still wedged between the two iron bars, looked at Rayleigh weakly. "Vice Captain... a little help?"
"I can't reach through... Good luck," Rayleigh said, stifling a laugh.
After a while, he watched with a somber expression as the jailers slowly dragged Bullet's body away. He asked quietly, "What do you think is really going on?"
Shanks was still sharp; he thought for a moment despite his predicament. "From the conversation just now, we can infer that Diarmuid is intentionally killing Ability Users. One of the functions of Impel Down is to keep Devil Fruits from leaking back into the world—we all know that. Magellan clearly tried to stop him at first, but the moment he saw something, he immediately switched to Diarmuid's side. And they're carrying fruit boxes. I suspect..."
"That Diarmuid possesses the power to steal the abilities of others?" Rayleigh said in shock.
Shanks nodded instinctively. "Exactly!"
It was that very nod that caused a pop sound—his head finally slipped back through the bars, freeing him.
Rayleigh didn't notice Shanks' success; instead, he remarked with great sentiment, "To steal the abilities of others... what a sinister and terrifying power. How does he do it?"
Shanks was equally baffled. He shook his head. "I have no idea."
In another cell, Teach had watched with his own eyes as Diarmuid killed his cellmate, 'Blood Plague' Craster. His eyes were filled with a mix of helplessness, awe, envy, and regret.
Damn it! I was supposed to be the one to do that! In the end, Diarmuid had done everything Teach had dreamed of doing! However, Teach didn't dare speak. He didn't even want to attract Diarmuid's attention, so he stayed perfectly still, hiding in the shadows of his corner.
Over the next hour, Rayleigh and Shanks watched as jailers periodically dragged corpses out from the depths of the prison.
There was 'Blood Plague' Craster, 'Crescent Moon Hunter' Catarina Devon, the once-famous "World Destroyer" Byrnndi World, and several other corpses Shanks didn't even recognize. Even Rayleigh only found a few of them familiar.
It was clear that Diarmuid's group was engaged in absolute carnage back there.
About an hour later, Diarmuid, his clothes stained with blood, returned from the depths of the prison, as this was the only way back to the elevator.
Rayleigh and Shanks sat in their cells, their gazes incredibly complex as they watched Diarmuid, hands stained red and radiating a murderous aura, exit the sixth level of Impel Down accompanied by Magellan and the others.
"I'm suddenly very glad I'm not an Ability User," Rayleigh muttered.
Shanks snapped out of his trance and shook his head. "Me too. This world is too cruel. Not even Impel Down is safe anymore..."
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