One Year

Ssssh... slurp slurp... On Level 1 of Impel Down, in the Jailer Cafeteria, Figo rapidly sucked springy noodles into his mouth, finishing a large bowl of seafood noodles in half a minute, leaving barely any broth.

He casually stacked the empty bowl in front of him, revealing a tall pile already on the table. Before Figo could speak, a fresh bowl of noodles was placed before him.

"Captain Figo, that's the 37th bowl—you've broken your record again!" said the jailer who handed him the noodles.

"Oh, is that so?" Figo mumbled vaguely. "Didn't keep count. Thanks."

Time flew like a white horse passing through a crack; in the blink of an eye, a year had passed. Figo had fully adapted to life in Impel Down and grown quite close with the jailers.

The scene before him stemmed from the Prison Archives in his mind—a thing that wasn't exactly scientific, yet not entirely without reason.

When he gained benefits like swordsmanship, Figo didn't receive sword techniques through sudden enlightenment. Instead, when he practiced or used a sword afterward, it was as if guided by divine aid, with bursts of inspiration rapidly bringing his actual skill up to par with the data.

When he gained benefits like physique, Figo would instantly become a bit stronger, but for a period afterward, he'd become ravenously hungry, as if making up for some deficit. And since physique gains kept coming, he gradually turned into half a glutton, his appetite growing larger and larger—eating enough for ten men!

Just as he was about to dive into the 37th bowl, the Den Den Mushi in the corner of the cafeteria rang.

Bru-bru, bru-bru.

"Moshi Moshi, Moshi Moshi. Is Captain Figo there?" a voice came from the Den Den Mushi. "This is the monitoring room. We just received a transmission from Headquarters: a transport ship will arrive at Impel Down in half an hour. There's only one prisoner on board, and they need to be confined to Level 4."

Figo walked over and pressed a button on the Den Den Mushi's back twice. "Figo here. Is Vice Jailer Chief Kinch around? This time, it's a pirate for Level 4—am I handling the escort alone?"

"Yeah, it's yours." The voice on the Den Den Mushi switched to a gruff male tone.

These Den Den Mushi were scattered throughout the jailer living quarters, allowing the monitoring room to contact anyone instantly—very convenient.

Hanging up, Figo patted his stomach, walked back, and picked up the bowl of noodles. "Fwoooosh~"

His not-so-large mouth turned into a gluttonous black hole, devouring the entire bowl in five seconds with a whale-like gulp!

"Burp~ Just full enough. Time to work!"

Elsewhere, in the Training Area.

A man over two and a half meters tall, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, extremely muscular, hung up the Den Den Mushi. He walked over to a massive stone roller marked one ton, grabbed it with both hands, and continued training his arm strength.

"Figo's really popular, huh," remarked a lanky young man beside him. "Level 4 is supposed to be under you and the Jailer Chief, but when the monitoring room hears a Level 4 prisoner's being transported, they contact Figo first."

The Underwater Great Prison Impel Down had six levels total; the deeper the level, the stronger the prisoners confined there. Each level had a clearly assigned person in charge.

The top three levels each had a Captain, Level 4 was under the Jailer Chief and Vice Jailer Chief who commanded three squads, and Levels 5 and 6 were under the Warden and Vice Warden—since Impel Down had only been established for a year, no Director had been appointed yet.

As Vice Jailer Chief, Kinch was practically the fourth most important figure in Impel Down. Hearing the young man's seemingly casual remark, he didn't stop lifting the stone roller. "If you could be like Figo—grabbing most of the work before the jailers, handling all the transport ship arrivals for the first four levels, saving us the trouble—you'd be just as popular.

If not for the extreme danger of prisoners on Levels 5 and 6, where the Warden handles things personally, he alone could do half the work in Impel Down!"

Captain Xiao of Level 3 shrugged, picked up a smaller stone block, and said, "I don't want to chase after him in that regard. I'd rather sleep in the dorms or train here in my free time. By the way, Lord Kinch, I heard that the Jailer Chief will be transferred back to Marine Headquarters when his one-year term is up?"

"Yeah, Lord Raul is a rising star valued by the Fleet Admiral himself. His year here in Impel Down is just for quiet training and building credentials. When he returns to the Marines, he'll likely skip Rear Admiral and be promoted straight to Vice Admiral." There was no lack of envy in Kinch's tone.

"Then... can I congratulate you in advance on becoming Jailer Chief?" Xiao asked. "If you're promoted to Jailer Chief, the vacant Vice Jailer Chief position will probably go to... Figo, right?"

Kinch frowned, shot Xiao a sidelong glance, and suddenly accelerated his lifting of the stone roller.

The one-ton weight swung fiercely in his hands, emitting a dangerous whoosh, before crashing to the ground with a heavy thud!

Kinch's voice followed, equally heavy.

"I won't accept that so easily! I don't dislike him, but good popularity doesn't help much in intimidating the vicious pirates on Level 4!"

"There's only one standard for becoming Vice Jailer Chief." He turned to look at Xiao, as if understanding what Xiao was thinking, and said in a low voice, "Strength!"

Xiao paused, then smiled. "Then I'm relieved, Lord Jailer Chief."

Level 1, Prison Area Corridor.

As Figo walked by, he suddenly heard faint screams from a distance.

"Ahh!!"

"Just kill me!"

"No—"

He shifted his gaze, quickly approached, and arrived at a relatively open area. There, he saw a prisoner stripped to the waist, tied to a bench, while two jailers beside him worked him over with various torture instruments.

"What's going on here?"

"Ah, Captain Figo!" The two jailers stood at attention and greeted him, then grinned. "This guy was acting up—tried to steal a new cellmate's bread. We're teaching him a lesson."

"No, I won't dare anymore... waaah..." The prisoner, whose back was already a bloody mess, whimpered.

Stealing a new cellmate's bread was just an excuse. Impel Down wasn't a charity—it didn't just lock up these pirates and feed them.

Though there were no torture chambers like the Boiling Hell yet, the jailers' wanton beatings could still turn this place into a living hell.

This wasn't the first time Figo had seen something like this.

He looked at the prisoner on the bench and called up the Prison Archives in his mind, finding the corresponding page and entry: [Crime Index: 17]

From what Figo understood, by modern universal values, a Crime Index of 1 to 5 might warrant life imprisonment, 5 to 10 could get you executed on the spot, and anything above 10 was beyond excessive. 17 points meant the wretch begging for mercy before him had at least 20 innocent lives on his hands!

So Figo reached out, took the whip, and in the prisoner's terrified gaze, swung it!

Wha—SLAP!!

Blood sprayed! Flesh flew!

A force several times heavier than the jailers' lashes instantly crushed the prisoner's breath, leaving him gasping.

His head snapped up, eyes bulging, tongue lolling out a full span—he couldn't even scream. After a long moment, his head drooped low.

He fell unconscious.

Figo's expression didn't change as he handed the whip back. "That's enough. Don't kill him. Throw him in an empty cell. You two, come with me to the Baptism Room—we're receiving a warship."

"Ah, yes, Captain!"

Figo nodded and continued toward the Baptism Room, a faint sigh in his heart.

How powerful habit was. A year ago, watching a baptism made him uncomfortable. Now he could torture a prisoner without flinching.

Still, this kind of growth didn't feel bad.

"Prisoners on Level 4 are normally ranked between R6 and R9. Hope this one's a bit stronger."

Figo held expectations for the new arrival.

He waited a moment in the Baptism Room.

A warship docked at Impel Down's pier.

Two Marine petty officers dragged a prisoner bound in heavy iron chains off the ship.

Over the past year, Figo had seen pirates of every grotesque shape, but this one still caught him off guard and felt fresh.

Blue-green skin, a powerful body, jagged teeth, and a fish head.

"Is this... a Fish-Man?"