Time flew by, and another ten days passed in the blink of an eye.
Impel Down's Level 4, the Blazing Hell, had returned to its usual, sweltering order. Due to the recent breakout attempt, Warden Magellan had ordered the Jailer Beasts to maintain a constant, rotating guard throughout the level.
Assistant Jailer Chief Sadi had also been disciplined for the incident, putting her in a particularly foul mood. Her… enthusiasm for tormenting the prisoners had increased significantly, and the other jailers were carefully avoiding her, trying their best to act like model employees.
"Hey, First," one jailer said, grumbling as he and another walked out of Sadi's office, "let's go drinking tonight. Damn it! Ever since that prisoner called Wilder caused that breakout, I haven't had a drop in twenty days. Tonight, I'm gonna drink my fill."
"You're really pushing your luck, aren't you? What if the Assistant Jailer Chief finds out?" The other jailer, a towering figure close to three meters tall with a half-mask covering his face, chuckled.
"No fun! You're no fun at all! The First I know is afraid of nothing and no one. You used to be the one dragging me out for drinks. Now… I feel like you've changed, First." The first jailer, hearing this, immediately got cold feet, but still stubbornly tried to save face.
"Changed…?" The jailer known as First's eyes flickered. "Yeah, maybe. People change, don't they?" He glanced at his companion with a small smile.
Ten days was enough time for someone to blend into an unfamiliar environment. With a little effort, one could even become friendly with their colleagues. Especially when, in the eyes of those colleagues, this person had existed for far longer than just ten days.
Just like Wilder, First was the name of the jailer who had died. But, starting ten days ago, that name belonged to Wilder.
Ten days. He had plenty of ways to explain where the real First had disappeared to for that time.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, his eyes hidden in shadow. Without another word, Wilder started walking ahead.
"Hey, why the sudden rush? Wait up, First!" The other jailer, snapping out of his thoughts, hurried to catch up.
"Stay back," Wilder's voice, tinged with exasperation, drifted back from up ahead. "I'm going to take a shit. You wanna join me for that, too?"
"Eh? Hehehe… You go ahead. I'll wait here."
"Suit yourself." With that, the bathroom door slammed shut with a bang.
The moment the door closed, Wilder's exasperated expression vanished. His body instantly dissolved into swamp.
Separating into countless tendrils, the swamp spread out in a web-like pattern, quickly scaling the four walls of the bathroom. The dense, writhing mass flowed upwards, the tendrils merging into thicker strands, and slipped out through the ventilation grate at the top of the room.
The swamp surged through the darkness, twisting and turning towards a specific destination. Before long, a glimmer of light appeared.
Gurgle…!
Silently, the swamp oozed out from a crack in the wall.
Wilder's body reformed from the muck, his eyes scanning the surroundings. No abnormalities.
This was an abandoned cell on the lowest level of the Blazing Hell, a secluded spot not directly exposed to the scorching flames.
It had taken Wilder five days just to find this place.
Time was of the essence, so Wilder wasted none of it. He went straight to a corner of the cell.
As he had done several times before, he first opened a small crack, then began to assimilate the interior.
This particular crack had been started two days ago, and some assimilation had already taken place. However, due to the limited time he could spend here each visit, progress had been slow.
It was the same this time. Wilder pressed his hand into the crack, beginning the assimilation process while silently counting down the time in his head.
Five minutes passed, and without hesitation, Wilder withdrew his hand. His body once again dissolved into swamp, flowing back the way he came.
"Time to go. Gotta supervise the prisoners."
When he emerged from the bathroom, Wilder's expression was completely normal. He greeted the waiting jailer with a nod.
"Let's go, let's go. I've already decided while you were in the bathroom, First."
"What?" Wilder asked, not even turning his head.
"I'm going to find a way to get a drink tonight, no matter what. You'll support me, right, First?"
"Sorry, but the most I can do is promise not to rat you out. So please stop trying to drag me down with you. Believe in yourself. You can do it alone."
"You've changed!" The jailer's expression resembled that of a shriveled cucumber as he began to grumble and curse.
Ignoring the stream of profanity spewing from his little sidekick, Wilder had grown used to this behavior over the past ten days. This particular jailer was just an oddball, someone who was surprisingly clear about his grudges, the peculiar type who'd openly express all his complaints and curses directly to the person he was upset with, things that should normally be kept hidden.
He was like a certain ambitious Vice-Warden… though, Wilder wasn't sure if that person had even become Vice-Warden at this point.
Wilder shook his head. His memory of the One Piece storyline wasn't perfect. He couldn't quite recall whether the current Vice-Warden was Shiryu of the Rain or that other ambitious fellow.
Supervising prisoners was a thankless task. The inmates in Impel Down, especially those on the lower levels, were anything but easy to deal with. If you encountered one who snapped from the endless forced labor, there were only two possible outcomes: you die, or I die.
Either the jailer died, or the prisoner did.
Of course, most of the time, it was the prisoner.
Just like now. Wilder tilted his head back slightly, his gaze calm and unwavering as he looked at the giant before him.
"Grah…" The creature, four or five times larger than Wilder, looked like a monstrous abomination. Its hideous face was dominated by a maw filled with sharp fangs, and a foul stench assaulted Wilder's nostrils.
Even Wilder's placid expression couldn't help but show a slight frown. He looked at the creature and said in a low, even voice, "So… you're planning to attack me?"
The jailer who had been following Wilder, still grumbling moments before, had already retreated to a safe distance, watching the scene unfold.
"Damn it! Quick, quick! Giant Boar is going crazy again! Get a team down here to stop him!" In the monitoring room, the jailer in charge of the surveillance screens was in a state of panic. Giant Boar was one of the top three most dangerous inmates in the Blazing Hell. He'd go on a rampage several times a month, smashing huge holes in the bridges. Whenever this happened, the surrounding jailers would always flee, waiting for the Jailer Beasts to handle it.
"Damn it! Who's that idiot? Doesn't he know that's Giant Boar?! Why isn't he running!?"
"It looks like… First?" another person watching the monitors said, his voice uncertain. The Blazing Hell's intense heat caused slight distortions and ripples in the surveillance footage.
Also, Visual Den Den Mushi couldn't operate for extended periods in the Blazing Hell. They had to be swapped out regularly, working in shifts. As a Den Den Mushi approached its replacement time, it would become exhausted, and the image would become blurry.