Chaos reigned on the bridge. The battle between jailers and prisoners, deliberately orchestrated by Wilder, had exploded.
"Die, Marines!" roared a prisoner, his hatred for the Marines the only thing he remembered from his life. Though his fist connected with a jailer, it made no difference; in his mind, jailers and Marines were one and the same.
"Bang!" The jailers fought back, firing guns, lashing out with whips, and pummeling the rioting prisoners in a brutal attempt to quell the uprising.
More jailers rushed in from a distance, only to be blocked by prisoners in other parts of the bridge. At this point, no one wanted to miss this opportunity, the only chance they might ever have to escape Impel Down.
The prisoners, even as they clashed with the jailers, occasionally glanced at the man standing in the center, a smile plastered on his face. Bullets passed right through him, doing no damage whatsoever. This gave them hope.
Maybe... this man could lead them out of Impel Down.
Wilder was oblivious to the prisoners' thoughts. His eyes, fixed on the jailers surrounding him—who were now forced to engage the other prisoners—searched, observed.
"Alright... you'll do." His smile widened, and he raised his right hand. A torrent of swamp erupted.
"Maniacal Swamp!" He slammed his hand down onto the bridge. Vast amounts of swamp gushed from his palm, spreading outwards under the pressure of his hand and the bridge's surface.
The moment it left his hand, the swamp surged like a tidal wave, rising suddenly.
"First Layer: Suffocation!"
Around Wilder, the jailers and prisoners, lost in their frenzied battle, suddenly felt a darkness above them. They looked up, pupils dilating to their maximum.
"What is that?!"
"No!"
"You monster! You can't do this!"
"Aaargh!"
Prisoners and jailers alike panicked beneath the descending swamp. Their terrified expressions said it all. Some began to run.
But some, including Wilder's target, had already lost their chance.
The swamp crashed down upon them. Their horrified screams and howls did nothing to halt its descent for even a second.
"Squelch!"
A sound like liquid hitting a surface, then spreading, echoed. Within a ten-meter radius of Wilder, everyone had been covered, buried by the swamp. While not completely submerged, their struggles only added a touch of macabre flair to the scene.
Hands, feet, faces – after a brief, desperate struggle, they slowly sank.
"You bastard...! Look what you've done!" A furious voice roared nearby. Wilder, just rising to his feet, his face slightly pale and his breathing a little labored, turned to look.
It was the bald prisoner who had first stepped forward.
Wilder had a good impression of this guy. At least compared to that Eigg, this bald guy was far more agreeable in his eyes.
"Nyehehehe... Don't worry, I'm just trying to save everyone some time. After all... if we want to escape Impel Down, we can't stay here forever." As he spoke, the swamp on the bridge began to churn, slowly flowing back into Wilder's body.
Soon, all the swamp had returned to him. The bodies of prisoners and jailers, dragged along by the receding swamp, reappeared on the bridge.
The prisoners and jailers, who had nearly believed they were going to die, knelt on the bridge, coughing violently. Without exception, they looked at Wilder with eyes full of terror.
But none of them noticed that a few among their number had not reappeared.
"Ha!"
The bald prisoner, seeing this, transformed his furious expression into one of understanding and agreement. He laughed heartily and nodded. "This way is definitely much easier."
As he spoke, he walked over to the jailers still coughing their guts out, grabbed one in each hand, and tossed them into the boiling cauldron below the bridge like dumplings.
Wilder suddenly felt that this guy was truly agreeable, almost like a divine assist.
Well then... Mr. Divine Assist, I wish you good luck.
His smile spreading, Wilder looked away.
The battle on the bridge hadn't stopped because of Wilder's actions. If anything, it had intensified.
A large number of jailers were arriving from afar. The prisoners, long since fed up with this place, fueled by a "safety in numbers" mentality, exploded, joining the fight.
Wilder knew this was only temporary. He had to seize the opportunity to escape the battlefield.
As for the prisoners...
Wilder could only wish them good luck.
But before that, it was necessary to lead these prisoners for a while, to create the appearance of a proper jailbreak.
"Hey! Tell me your name." After a moment's thought, Wilder addressed the bald guy who had made a slight impression.
"Me? I'm Vice." The bald man, hearing Wilder's voice, turned around, grinning to reveal a mouthful of white teeth.
"Tell them we're leaving." Wilder nodded, expressionless, then turned and started walking forward. His low voice sounded again the moment he turned his back: "If you can't keep up, don't blame me if you die."
"Yahahahaha! Of course not!" Vice glanced at Wilder's back, laughed uproariously, and then began to rally the prisoners to follow Wilder's lead.
The prisoners started to retreat while fighting, shouts of battle, excitement, and laughter echoing across the bridge.
More and more prisoners joined the ranks, all moving in the same direction.
Behind them, a growing number of jailers pursued relentlessly. Ahead, jailers arriving from other areas to provide support blocked their path, but were quickly torn apart by the ferocious mob of prisoners.
Wilder walked at the very front. No matter what attacks came his way, they couldn't make him falter. The prisoners around him would strike first, tearing apart any enemy that stood in his way.
The further he walked, the more silent Wilder became. He didn't know where he was leading these people, whether there was a turning point at the end of this path, or what kind of place it led to.
He didn't know.
He only knew that if he kept walking, powerful enemies would soon appear and crush this group.
At that time, Wilder would seize the opportunity to escape.
And these prisoners, including Vice, would become collateral damage in his scheme.
Whether they lived or died...
Perhaps from the very beginning, these people had no right to live...
Weakness is the original sin.