One Piece:The Fruit of Evolution

Outside Impel Down, a warship approached slowly. As the drawbridge lowered, Ron, dressed in the Director's uniform, stood waiting with a saber in hand.

A Marine Headquarters Vice Admiral stepped forward, escorting a heavily manacled figure.

"Warden Ron, this one's all yours," the Vice Admiral said, exhaling a long sigh of relief as he handed over the prisoner.

"What's the story on this guy?" Ron asked, looking at the nondescript middle-aged man, who bore neither a powerful aura nor any distinctive features. For a Vice Admiral to personally escort him, he must be a serious threat—an Semi Admiral-level powerhouse, at least.

"Climans Otis, user of the hōkai no mi (Collapse fruit) and a former Rocks Pirates member," the Vice Admiral replied. "A week ago, Vice Admiral Garp crossed paths with him during a hunt and brought him in."

*Otis the Destroyer?* Ron raised an eyebrow. He'd heard the tales. Otis, a Rocks Pirates mainstay, wielded the hōkai Fruit's destructive power. After the Valley of the Gods battle, Otis had escaped by luck. Though he didn't appear in the official records, his reputation was formidable.

Ron noted the seastone shackles on Otis's legs and additional specialized bindings around his body—heavy, indestructible restraints that even Admiral-level powers couldn't break, except perhaps through certain Devil Fruit abilities.

"Unfortunate to run into Garp," Ron muttered. With Otis's strength, he could have escaped from even Sengoku. But Garp? A force at the pinnacle of Marine might.

 Even their captain, Rocks, was defeated by Garp ten years ago, let alone Garp, who was at his peak ten years later.

The handover complete, the warship pulled away from Impel Down.

"Come on, let's get you to your new accommodations," Ron said, hefting Otis over his shoulder and leading him into the prison. Every inmate sent here faced an initial "baptism" in boiling water, a method of "disinfection." Most pirates barely survived the ordeal, but for someone of Otis's level, it was hardly more than a nuisance. Reaching Admiral-level strength, even Devil Fruit users possessed extraordinary resilience.

After the baptism, Ron escorted Otis to the Eternal Hell on the sixth floor, placing him in an isolated cell, where thick iron chains embedded in the walls reinforced the seastone restraints. Only someone with raw power akin to Garp could hope to break free.

Over the years, Impel Down had been an inescapable fortress, and for the rare few who managed to flee, an Admiral-level warden stood ready to intercept. Those imprisoned here were starved and weakened, their strength a mere fraction of what it once was.

As Ron secured Otis, a familiar voice echoed from another cell. "Otis, so they finally got you too?" An old prisoner's voice cut through the gloom, and Otis, looking defeated, started in surprise. He glanced over at a gaunt, elderly man nearby.

"Old friends, are we?" Ron asked, casting a passing glance. Many on the sixth floor were legends from a bygone era. With a few remnants of the Rocks Pirates scattered among them, he wasn't surprised they knew each other.

A decade ago, Rocks had dominated the seas, instilling fear across the Grand Line. With their fall, the World Government pursued Rocks's remnants fiercely. Many had been captured over the years, filling Impel Down's cells.

"Let's let him go hungry for a week," Ron ordered the warden. He knew that well-fed, powerful inmates were trouble waiting to happen. Starved and weary, they'd have neither the energy nor the will to escape. Even an Admiral needed sustenance to keep up strength. After all, they were powerful humans, not self-sufficient deities.

"Yes, Director Ron!" the warden nodded, accustomed to such instructions.

Ron left Eternal Hell and made his way to Blazing Hell on the fourth floor, where his office overlooked floors three and five. This floor, with temperatures in the hundreds, housed pools of boiling blood and seas of flame. With its extreme heat, it served as a buffer, keeping the prisoners on the fifth floor from pushing upward.

"It's boiling in here!" Ron noted as the sweltering heat hit him, warming his body from the cold of Eternal Hell. He moved closer to a blood pool, the temperature intensifying with every step. His skin seemed to steam in the heat, but he endured it, testing his body's limits until he finally stepped back. The intense heat had evaporated most of his body's moisture, but his endurance was building.

After taking a moment to recover, Ron refocused. His true reason for joining Impel Down was the opportunity to spar with powerful opponents. The prisoners on the upper floors didn't interest him; it was the notorious criminals on the sixth floor who piqued his curiosity.

While officially, execution of prisoners was forbidden, as Director, he could use "training" as an excuse to spar with select inmates. If a few happened to die in the process, the World Government wouldn't mind; these were death-row prisoners, doomed one way or another.

 Even if there were deaths of some criminals on the sixth floor, the World Government's reaction would not be severe. After all, he's not Shiryu. He wouldn't torture and kill criminals every day just for fun, and perhaps the World Government wouldn't have allowed Hannibal to imprison Shiryu if his power was at Admiral's level.

"Release the inmates from Cell No. 10" Ron instructed, preparing himself for combat.

The warden hesitated momentarily but followed orders, opening Cell No. 10. 

"Tota Ross, captain of the Mechanical Pirates, bounty: 350 million. A mechanical fruit user who can transform his body and surroundings into machinery, captured by Admiral Sengoku three years ago. Responsible for attacking Celestial Dragons' fleet, killing two, devastating two islands, and leaving 20,000 civilian casualties."

Ron sized up the prisoner before him: a sharp-featured man with rebellious eyes, bearing mechanical modifications at his joints. His right hand was missing; once a mechanical prosthetic, it had been destroyed upon his arrival at Impel Down. Even a red electronic eye was embedded at the back of his head.

Ross's combat prowess was undeniable, especially with large-scale destructive power comparable to a Logia-class Devil Fruit. Yet, in the end, overconfidence in his Devil Fruit abilities had led him right into the Marines' trap.

-I hope your like the chapter 😊.