For the Sake of Freedom!

In that dark and damp prison cell.

An old man, thin as a rake, sat quietly in the corner of the cell, staring blankly into space.

His body was hunched over, his skin loose and dull, as if all his vitality had been drained by the endless years of imprisonment.

The tattered prison uniform he wore hung loosely on his thin, bony body, swaying slightly with his soft breathing.

Suddenly, the ceiling began to shake violently. The originally solid brick structure seemed to have lost its support and became sticky and wobbly like jelly.

The bizarre sight caused a flicker of surprise to flash in the previously empty eyes of the Red Count. He abruptly raised his head and stared intently at the constantly shaking ceiling, filled with curiosity.

However, not long after, his tightly furrowed brows gradually relaxed, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and a mysterious smile appeared on his face.

Lightning bolts shaped like clubs from playing cards shot out swiftly from the cut-open wall like ghosts!

Lightning's gaze swept swiftly towards the Red Count in the cell. Without the slightest hesitation or delay, her two arms instantly transformed into scissors gleaming with a cold metallic sheen.

With a flash, she moved quickly to the front of the cell door, and with a powerful swing of her arm, she easily cut a large gap in the seemingly sturdy cell door!

The Red Count's smile deepened as he watched the scene unfold before him.

He slowly stood up, and although he was weak, his eyes revealed an undisguised excitement and anticipation.

He stretched out his hand, his withered fingers trembling slightly, yearning for the freedom that was about to come.

Without a moment's pause, the lightning used the power of the Scissors-Scissors Fruit on the Seastone shackles on Red Count's wrists and ankles.

With a slight metallic cracking sound, the Seastone shackles binding the Red Count snapped and fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Having done all this, Lightning took the sword from his waist, handed it to Red Count, and said softly, "This is the sword that Yu Kid gave you. Take it."

The Red Count looked at the sword, a glint in his eyes. He slowly reached out, took the sword, and gently stroked the blade. "It's a fine sword, somewhat like Shiryu of the Rain's."

The Red Count read Lightning's memories, his eyes flashing, "I understand!"

He looked at the lightning again, "Then let my old bones shine one more time!"

"The Red the Solitary, reporting for duty!"

The biting wind, like a thousand Ice Blade, howled wildly in this icy world, mercilessly cutting through every inch of air.

A group of transvestites huddled together, their bodies shivering uncontrollably in the bitter cold. Most of them wore expressions of exhaustion and fear, their lips were blue from the cold, their teeth chattered, and their breath instantly condensed into puffs of white mist in the air.

They followed Ivankov with faltering steps, the snow crunching under their feet, each step feeling so difficult and heavy.

Ahead of them stood rows of eerie and terrifying cells, their outer walls covered with long ice crystals that gleamed coldly in the dim light, like sharp fangs.

Through the blurry ice, one could vaguely see that the prisoners in the cells had been frozen into ice sculptures.

Their bodies remained in various contorted postures, as if time had frozen them in the most painful moment.

Some prisoners huddled in the corner with their hands covering their heads, as if futilely resisting the cold. Others had their mouths open, seemingly making a silent scream. Their frozen expressions were filled with despair and helplessness.

However, these prisoners were exceptionally resilient; despite being frozen solid, they stubbornly remained alive.

Every day, the air conditioner in the cell is turned on at set times, releasing a small amount of heat to slowly melt the ice on their bodies.

But this brief moment of warmth was, in fact, the greatest mockery of Impel Down for them.

As the ice melts, their bodies gradually regain sensation, but they experience endless pain and torment.

The biting cold would quickly return, freezing them back into ice sculptures, repeating the cycle endlessly, tormenting them in this alternation of ice and fire, leaving them unable to live or die.

This situation is all too familiar to these transvestites, because most of them come from the Extreme Cold Hell, selected by lightning and sent to the 5.5th floor.

Upon witnessing such a scene again, the transgender people trembled, fearing that they would be imprisoned in such a hellish place once more.

Next to the rows of cells was a jailer's cell, radiating heat that was clearly visible to the naked eye.

There was no snow around the room, and the ground was covered in slush. Through the glass, you could see the prison guards playing a card game inside.

The distance of just a few hundred meters is like the difference between hell and heaven between the prison cells and the jailers.

Ivankov quietly approached "Paradise" and kicked the door open!

The jailers were stunned by the sudden attack. They stood up in a panic, their playing cards scattered on the floor, their faces filled with fear and bewilderment.

"You! Who are you?!" a jailer shouted, trembling.

However, Ivankov did not answer. He snorted coldly and moved as fast as a ghost, his fingernails drawing sharp arcs in the air as he attacked the jailers.

"Ada! The new transvestite fist technique 44: the beauty secret - Dream Strike Inside Fist!"

Ivankov shouted and waved his hands. The guards had no time to dodge and could only watch helplessly as the gleaming fingernails came hurtling towards their bodies.

Instantly, screams of agony rose and fell from the prison guards' quarters.

Ivankov's fingernails rained down on the jailers, who were beaten until they were knocked over like broken sandbags.

Before long, all the prison guards were severely injured by Ivankov and collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

Ivankov looked at them coldly, without a trace of pity in his eyes.

He bent down and quickly searched the guards' waists for the keys, while her transvestite underlings activated the cell's heating system.

With a soft buzzing sound, warm air slowly flowed into the cell.

Inside the cells, the prisoners, frozen solid, began to thaw gradually in the warm air.

The prisoners gradually regained their senses. They opened their eyes in confusion, looking at the unfamiliar yet familiar surroundings, their faces filled with doubt and shock.

Just then, Ivankov strode to the front of the cell, raised the key in his hand high, and shouted loudly!

"Everyone! Let's embrace the sea together!"

"For freedom!"

Tears welled in the prisoners' eyes as they cried out, "For freedom!"