The Director's office in the Grand Prison was enormous, even larger than Admiral Sengoku's. It was a long-standing tradition, not something Magellan arranged out of a desire for luxury or authority. In fact, despite its size, everything Magellan personally chose for the office was extremely modest. The décor and style were both plain.
From what Ortoren knew, Magellan truly didn't have any special personal needs. The man worked four hours a day, spent ten hours on the toilet with diarrhea, slept eight hours, and had at most two hours for leisure. Other than requiring a top-quality toilet, he really didn't need anything else.
Today, Ortoren noticed Magellan seemed to be in decent shape. Maybe he hadn't eaten since hearing Ortoren was coming? So he wouldn't ruin his image?
With those stray thoughts drifting through his mind, Magellan soon invited Ortoren to sit on the sofa. Then he reached into the standing cabinet behind him, took out a box of cigars, and asked:
"Want one?"
"No, I'm more used to cigarettes…" Ortoren removed his gas mask and took a cigarette from his pocket.
Judging from how Hannibal had been fine without a gas mask earlier, it seemed Magellan wasn't so toxic that he couldn't be around people—as long as you didn't get too close or make physical contact. Any toxins released when he breathed would naturally be drawn back toward him by his Doku Doku no Mi ability and return to his body one way or another.
Magellan nodded and put the cigar box away.
"I'm not really into them anyway. I used to enjoy smoking, but after becoming a Doku Doku no Mi user, I had no choice but to quit…"
Ortoren imagined Magellan smoking. Good grief—one cigarette would probably wipe out everyone nearby.
He couldn't help asking:
"So the cigars are for receiving guests? Impel Down shouldn't get many visitors, right?"
"Oh, no, these belong to Chief Warden Shiryu. But he caused trouble recently, so I put him in solitary..." Magellan waved it off with a brief explanation.
"I see…" Ortoren nodded lightly. But from Magellan's expression, it was clear he didn't want to talk more about Shiryu, so Ortoren let it drop.
The two chatted for a bit, making small talk, getting a basic sense of each other before settling in.
Exhaling a thin stream of smoke, Ortoren crushed the cigarette in the ashtray, straightened slightly, and asked:
"Before I came, Admiral Sengoku should've sent you a letter, right?"
Magellan knew that meant they were getting to the main point. He sat up and nodded.
"That's right. But the Admiral's letter…"
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a sheet of paper, unfolded it, and continued:
"It only says I'm to cooperate with your work. Not a single extra word. So I don't know what you're planning to do or how you need me to cooperate."
"Ahem…" Ortoren cleared his throat theatrically and lowered his voice.
"This matter is quite classified. It's not suitable to leave anything on paper. You understand?"
Magellan paused. Even someone at the Admiral's level didn't want a paper trail?
After a brief moment of surprise, he noticed Ortoren's eyes lingering on the document in his hand. Being a sharp man, he immediately understood. With a small smile, he picked up the lighter Ortoren had used earlier, lit the paper without hesitation, and dropped it into the ashtray.
Seeing the only piece of evidence burn down to a pile of black ash, Ortoren let a calm, faint smile appear on his face.
"Since we don't need to leave any trace, there's no need for anything afterward..."
"Understood. I didn't receive any message from Headquarters today. Your visit here, Ortoren, was simply a friendly stop-by. We had a pleasant chat, and none of it involved work." Magellan patted his chest confidently.
"No wonder the Admiral calls you a smart man—and one of us." Ortoren laughed.
Magellan had no issue with that comment. He had a strong sense of justice, yes, but reaching the position of Warden already proved he understood politics. And he had long considered himself part of the Sengoku faction.
Likewise, the Ortoren sitting before him was, in Magellan's eyes, the same—personally promoted by Admiral Sengoku, loyal and like-minded.
Indeed, in Magellan's view, there were no hawks, doves, or neutral factions. He didn't care about political labels. All that mattered was the person. If your superior was Sengoku, then you were one of his own.
This exchange was simply a way to reassure each other.
After settling the "we're on the same side" matter, Ortoren's tone grew heavier.
"This classified mission will require you to endure a bit of hardship..."
"How so?" Magellan raised an eyebrow.
"I need you to arrange for Shiki to escape in the near future. Of course, I'll secretly send people to assist him. That's why it'll be a bit unfair to you. Once it's done, as the Director of Impel Down, you'll definitely be held responsible."
Magellan paid no mind to responsibility or blame. Instead, he stared at Ortoren in shock.
"Shiki? You mean Shiki the Golden Lion in Eternal Hell?"
"Besides him, is there any other Shiki worth me coming here personally for?" Ortoren joked.
Magellan's first instinct was to pull out a Den Den Mushi to ask Admiral Sengoku about this. But the moment his hand moved, he froze.
It all made sense. Only something on this level would make Admiral Sengoku unwilling to leave any trace on paper.
If he called Sengoku now, wouldn't that put the Admiral directly on the spot? Should he admit it? Deny it?
If he admitted it, he'd be confirming that he ordered the operation. And if anything went wrong later, he would be the one taking the hit.
But if he denied it, how would the mission proceed?
Realizing this, Magellan dropped the idea entirely. And besides, when he thought about it carefully, there was no reason to doubt Ortoren.
As a Navy elite Vice Admiral and the leading candidate to become the next Admiral, why would Ortoren suddenly go insane and try to break Shiki out?
It had to be tied to some even deeper classified mission—one Magellan shouldn't know and didn't need to know.
Otherwise, what would Ortoren even want Shiki for? To set him free? Magellan didn't believe that. After all, he was the one who personally captured Shiki back then. The grudge between them was deep and absolute.
Watching Magellan's expression shift from shock to contemplation, then to understanding, Ortoren felt the pressure finally lift from his chest.
There was no need to explain too much—especially to someone like Magellan. The more you explained, the more mistakes you made. It was better to go straight to the heart of the matter. Mentioning Shiki upfront and backing it with Sengoku's document would let Magellan fill in the rest himself.
When Magellan finally composed himself, he let out a wry smile.
"This really is a troublesome job you're giving me. Looks like I'll have to request a demotion after this."
"That might not be necessary. But let me be honest: even if you do request a demotion, you'll be reinstated before the year ends. And this whole matter will only deepen the bond between us, Magellan." Ortoren smiled.
This "us" didn't just mean him and Magellan—it included Admiral Sengoku as well.
Magellan understood instantly. Just as Ortoren had said earlier, going through something like this would naturally place him among Sengoku's trusted inner circle.
He was a smart man. Combining everything Ortoren said, his eyes brightened.
"So you're saying that within the year, this Shiki matter will bring major benefits to the Marines as a whole?"
"Pretty much," Ortoren confirmed with a nod.
"Alright. How do you need me to cooperate?" Magellan asked immediately.
That answer signaled his agreement.
Ortoren smiled. "Impel Down is known as an iron fortress. I don't have a good plan myself, so I need you to provide a feasible escape scenario that could actually work. I'll follow the plan, you'll play along, and we'll get Shiki out..."
This was true professionalism—Ortoren arranging a jailbreak and asking the warden himself to devise the method.
After all, Impel Down undoubtedly had countless contingency drills and simulations. They knew far better than any outsider how someone might escape from here.