Imu: The Beginning of Eternal Night
In the deepest part of Mary Geoise, at the Room of Authority.
The room was larger than I had imagined. The walls were white, without any decoration, windows, or candlesticks, only a solitary light source overhead. The light was cold, casting no color on the white floor. Imu stood in the center of the room, his white robe trailing to the ground, his face obscured by shadows, making his features indistinct.
Rocks entered the room without pausing. Whitebeard followed behind, his Naginata held horizontally in front of him, the blade uncoated with Haki, but the white light of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit was already gathering on the blade. Kaido paused at the threshold, the Conqueror's Haki lightning on his Iron Club exploding again, then stepped inside. Roger's left hand rested on the hilt of his sword, which was still sheathed, but Conqueror's Haki was already seeping from the scabbard's seams. Bullet clenched his right fist, Armament Haki covering his entire forearm. Big Mom stood beside Bullet, the Homies Army behind her regrouping into a line, the remaining fragments of their souls huddled together. Golden Lion descended from above to the doorway, his Gravity Field expanding outwards upon landing, creating uniform cracks in the ground, before withdrawing Gravity Field without maintaining it.
"If you want to fight, then fight," Imu's voice came from the shadows, flat and even. "I've been waiting for you here for a long time."
Rocks moved first. He took a step forward, without any build-up or warning, and slammed his right fist into Imu's face. His fist was covered in a dense layer of Armament Haki, the thickness of which far exceeded any he had seen in this fight. As the fist struck, the air exploded into two thin white streaks on either side of his fist. Imu did not dodge, did not defend, did not move. His fist stopped about a foot away from Im's face—stopped in front of an invisible wall. That wall had no color, no temperature, no shape, but Rocks' fist remained frozen, unable to move forward an inch, nor could it retract.
"You can block my first punch, but can you block my second?" Rocks retracted his right hand, and simultaneously threw out his left. This time, the speed was even faster, and the Armament Haki on his fist had a dark black sheen, striking the same spot. The invisible wall rippled slightly upon the second impact, like ripples on water after a stone was thrown in. The ripples spread outward from the point of impact before returning to their flat state, without cracks or damage.
Whitebeard's Naginata struck the very instant Rocks withdrew his second punch. The white light from the Tremor-Tremor Fruit on the Rocks exploded upon contact with the wall, the shockwave spreading outwards from the point of impact, covering the entire floor of the room. The invisible wall distorted within the shockwave's reach—the once smooth surface undulated in a wave-like pattern, lasting for about a breath before returning to its flat state.
"Gurara... How many impacts can this wall of yours withstand?" Whitebeard did not sheath his sword; the white light on the Naginata reformed.
Imu didn't speak. The wall slowly changed color as it twisted—from colorless to light gray, then to dark gray, and finally settled at a near-black concentration. The thickness of the wall continued to increase during the color change, gradually thickening from a thin layer to cover the entire width of the wall, spreading outward along the wall structure, as if some solid substance was growing outward from the inside of the wall.
Kaido charged forward three steps, transforming in mid-air. Dragon scales covered his entire body, his dragon wings unfurled, and his dragon claws slammed into the dark gray wall—leaving five shallow marks on the surface. These marks healed slowly after being touched by his claws, faster than expected, returning the wall to its original state in about two breaths.
"This wall can heal itself." Kaido landed back on the ground. "Its recovery speed is faster than any of the Five Elders' defenses."
The Golden Lion raised its hands from behind, and the Gravity Field locked onto the dark gray wall area—the color of the wall surface shrank under the Gravity Field, changing from dark gray to deep gray, and then to a near-black concentration, but it did not crack. The wall underwent slight deformation under the pressure of Gravity, with the edges denting inward by about one centimeter, but the overall structure did not collapse.
"Gravity works on it, but it's very inefficient. Its surface absorbs the compressive force after deformation, distributing the external pressure throughout the wall structure, rather than concentrating the impact at a single point."
Imu remained silent. But the dark gray wall began to move forward—not collapsing, but moving forward as a whole, like a door closing. The movement was slow but steady, each step compressing the space in front of the six. Rocks took a step back, Whitebeard moved half a step to the side, Kaido's dragon wings folded down by about a third, and Roger's body turned to the side.
"This wall is shrinking our living space," Roger said. "It's kicking us out of the room."
"Then shatter it." Bullet stepped forward, Conqueror's Haki lightning exploding on his fist, compressing into a fist-sized layer that solidified as he clenched his fist—"Conqueror's Haki: Armor Shattering!" He slammed his fist into the center of the dark gray wall, cracking the surface at the point of impact. The cracks spread outwards from the center, forming a spiderweb-like pattern. But the wall didn't shatter. The cracks began to heal as his fist retracted, healing more slowly than Kaido's claw marks, but still fully recovering in about three breaths.
"Your fist can crack, but it heals faster than you can throw another punch," Imu's voice came from behind the wall. "Do you even have the strength to throw another punch?"
Bullet's right arm trembled. His hand was split open, and part of the Conqueror's Haki lightning covering the fist was absorbed by the wall at the point of contact, leaving fine burn marks on his knuckles, like skin scorched by fire. He didn't answer, but clenched his fist again.
Rocks stood there, staring at the wall. "Your attacks are all focused on the wall. But the people behind the wall are the real target." He turned forward. "The wall is man-made. The wall itself is merely a tool to stop our advance; it cannot function independently. It needs a continuous supply of energy to maintain its strength. As long as we can force it to divert its energy in other directions, the wall's own supporting capacity will weaken. You attack the wall, I'll attack the people behind it."
He didn't use his fist. His right hand stretched forward, fingers spread, palm facing forward—a dark shockwave exploded from his palm, grazing the wall's surface, finding a curved turning point at the wall's edge. The shockwave climbed upwards along the turning point, over the top of the wall, and then fell behind it. Imu took half a step back, judging from the movement of the silhouette discernible in the shadows, he was adjusting his position. At the same moment, a crack appeared in the dark gray wall—not from the outside, but from the inside, the crack extending from the base to the top, running through the entire wall surface, only stopping its spread in the middle.
"The wall is cracked," Kaido said.
Whitebeard's Naginata was raised to its highest point, the white light of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit compressed onto the blade, condensing into a thin white line, like a beam of light compressed to its limit, continuously gathering on the edge. The blade's falling speed was not fast, but along its path, the air was compressed into a visible ripple, spreading outwards from both sides of the blade. Cracks in the ground extended in the direction of the ripples, and the dark gray wall disintegrated into fragments the moment it touched the blade. The fragments scattered on the ground, becoming smaller as they fell, eventually turning into powder and covering the gaps between the floor tiles.
Imu stood about ten steps behind the wall. His body was now exposed to everyone's view—a white robe, dark hair, his face still shrouded in shadow, but his posture had shifted slightly, his left shoulder was about two fingers lower than his right, and his breathing rhythm had changed, as if he had just been hit by a shockwave.
"Your wall has crumbled." Rocks withdrew his right hand. "With the wall broken, the person is exposed."
Imu didn't answer. He raised his right hand, fingers spread, palm facing the six people. The air seemed to freeze at that moment—not paused, but a more radical shift, as if time itself had been stretched across the entire room, and everyone's movements had been slowed down. Rocks' right hand hovered in mid-air after retracting, Whitebeard's Naginata remained held horizontally after shattering the wall, Kaido's dragon wings were half-spread, Roger's sword was not yet fully drawn, Golden Lion's Gravity Field lost its direction of expansion.
Space was contracting. Not from the edges towards the center, but a uniform, overall shrinkage. Subtle distortions appeared on Rocks' body; fine wrinkles appeared on his black coat, deepening as if being compressed from the outside. Small cracks appeared on Whitebeard's Naginata, spreading from the back to the blade, forming a discontinuous grid in the area covered by the white light. Kaido's dragon scales made a dense friction sound as they contracted, the edges pressing against adjacent scales, creating a tighter arrangement. Golden Lion's Gravity Field, unable to expand further due to the contraction, lost its original direction of coverage. Big Mom's figure was compressed; her shape visibly changed during the contraction. Roger's body twisted more noticeably than others—his right arm failed to maintain its full shape, a section of his clothing collapsing at his right shoulder, revealing an empty space.
"Roger's body is dissipating prematurely." Rayleigh's voice came from behind, not loud but clear enough, "The backlash from the Op-Op Fruit is accelerating."
Roger stood rooted to the spot, sword in his left hand, his right arm completely paralyzed. His body was disintegrating from the inside out, like a collapsing building, peeling away layer by layer from the center outwards. First his arm crumbled, then his shoulder, then his right chest and abdomen—within moments, his entire body began to crack from the inside out, dense fissures appearing on his skin like parched earth, the cracks deepening and widening, yet no blood flowed. His body could no longer support him as he stood.
"My turn," Roger said.
He gripped his sword in his left hand and took the final step. Conqueror's Haki lightning condensed on the blade—compressed to its limit, the dark red light shrinking into an extremely thin arc, like a needle extending from the tip. The surrounding air was torn open by the passing light thread, creating a narrow slit. Imu's palm faced him; the spatial contraction had already covered the entire room, but Roger's sword continued to advance. As the tip pierced the contraction layer, the Conqueror's Conqueror's Haki lightning the blade's surface reformed after passing through, without interruption or weakening.
"The Perennial Youth Operation - Counter-Curse -" Roger's voice rang out from within the sword's light, steady, clear, and without trembling, "I will exchange my life for the liberation of your immortality."
The sword tip pierced Imu's body. Imu's figure swayed noticeably for the first time. The spatial contraction stopped at the same moment, loosening like a severed rope. The cracks in the ground ceased to spread after the contraction stopped, returning to their original form. Roger's body began to dissipate rapidly as the sword tip pierced him, starting from his fingertips, then his palms, wrists, arms, shoulders, and finally his entire torso—within a few breaths, his body completely transformed into golden specks of light. These specks drifted in the air, slowly rising, and disappeared after touching the ceiling.
Roger's sword was still embedded in Imu's body. The hilt hung in mid-air, unheld by any hand, yet it remained in the stabbing position. The Conqueror's Haki lightning on the blade was fading, the last wisp of lightning disappearing at the hilt.
The room fell silent. Roger's sword remained embedded in Imu's body; he hadn't pulled it out. He stood there, motionless. Rocks' gaze shifted from where Roger had vanished to Imu: "His sword is still in your body."
Imu lowered his head, looking at the sword embedded in his body. The blade was inserted into his left chest and abdomen. There was no bleeding from the edges of the wound, but the skin around the wound was changing color—from its original paleness, fine red spots appeared, spreading outwards along the edges of the wound, changing from light red to dark red, slowly but steadily.
Lin Yuan walked out of the door. His footsteps echoed clearly in the empty Room of Authority. He walked to the spot where Roger had disappeared, bent down, and picked up the sword. The hilt still retained the warmth of the Conqueror's Haki. He gripped the hilt tightly, and the blade was pulled from Imu's body.
Imu's body swayed a second time the moment the blade was drawn. His left shoulder was about three fingers lower than his right, and his breathing was heavier than before.
Lin Yuan stood there, sword in hand, tip pointing downwards at the ground. "Roger's path is over. Now it's my turn."
(End of Chapter 117)