Inside Cell No. 8, a burly man with a bare chest moved to the iron-barred door. He stared at Paradi, who was bleeding steadily from his wounds, shook his head in disdain, and said,
"Anyone can talk big, loser. I saw the fear in your eyes just now. If even someone like you—whose hands are soaked in blood—could show fear, then it's safe to say Fat Bear, who's fighting upstairs, doesn't stand a chance either.
"Which means... after today, you'll be a loser too."
Paradi, a master of Rokushiki, was forcing his muscles to contract around his wounds, fighting to stem the bleeding. Like some elite among the Marines, Paradi had also mastered Life Return—the ability to consciously control any part of his body.
Rokushiki and Life Return were complementary arts: mastering Rokushiki allowed an ordinary human to battle Devil Fruit users, but the training demanded superhuman physicality. Without that, the brutal drills would destroy one's body rather than strengthen it. And reaching that level wasn't just about relentless training—it also required enormous amounts of nutrition. Mountains of food were needed to fuel the transformation, consumed and then burned away by grueling physical exertion to forge strength.
Most people, of course, simply couldn't eat that much, let alone absorb it. That's where Life Return came in. By training it, one could accelerate digestion and nutrient absorption, rapidly fueling the body.
This was why, in the world of One Piece, so many great warriors were bottomless pits when it came to food.
Naturally, not everyone could master Life Return. Those who could, however, achieved feats that seemed almost superhuman. A true Rokushiki master could endure tremendous damage, recover at astounding speeds—and if their Life Return was perfected, they could control their body, hair, even internal organs at will. By consciously channeling their willpower into injured areas, they could contract muscles to seal wounds, directing stored nutrients toward damaged cells to accelerate regeneration.
The downside? It consumed vast reserves of energy.
If the internal stores ran dry, the body would start cannibalizing its own stamina. The more energy drained, the faster one's physical strength would collapse.
If one exhausted every last bit of reserve before a battle ended, with no way to replenish... then death was inevitable—unless they were willing to burn away their very life force just to stay alive.
Paradi remained silent as he chewed on a strip of dried meat. His muscles twitched and contracted. Soon, the bleeding across his body slowed to almost nothing. Even the black-and-purple bruises on his face faded, revealing traces of his original appearance.
Keeping dried meat on him had long been Paradi's survival habit—a relic from when he defected from the World Government's Cipher Pol and spent his days being hunted.
The meat wasn't just food—it was emergency medicine, packed with nutrients.
Without it, he'd long since collapsed from exhaustion after using Life Return to heal his wounds.
Without sparing the burly man in Cell No. 8 another glance, Paradi hesitated for a rare moment. Then, silently, he walked to the door of Cell No. 6.
He reached into the shredded pocket of his ruined trousers, pulled out another strip of meat, and tossed it through the bars.
His voice was rough as he spoke:
"Mosa... you're from the East Blue, right? Ever heard the name Chris T. Aeridar?"
Mosa—full name Gimel Mosa—was indeed born in East Blue.
A powerful mercenary captain, he had originally been escorting a merchant ship from East Blue to the royal capital of the Alabasta Kingdom, Alubarna.
But five days ago, upon reaching the canola port of Saintin Island, disaster struck.
Their ship was first ambushed by an old, infamous pirate crew—and then they crossed paths with the Crimson Man-Eating Flower crew.
Amid the chaos of a three-way battle, Mosa was defeated by Paradi and thrown into the brig.
The pirate captain, heavily wounded, managed to escape.
"Hah... what's this? Am I hearing things?"
From within Cell No. 6, Mosa, a broad-shouldered man chained tightly to the wall, first blinked in astonishment at the strip of meat, then snatched it up, sneering at Paradi.
"You begging me for help now?"
"Don't push your luck, bastard!"
Paradi snapped, his temper flaring. His glare was like daggers as he growled out each word,
"Careful, or I'll gut you where you stand!"
Mosa, seeing Paradi's anger boil over, only got lazier.
Sprawled out on the floor in a starfish pose, letting the chains bite into his flesh, he casually chewed on the meat and drawled:
"Man~ oh man~ how scary.
"Guess this really is about the Chris Pirates, huh?
"But you call that begging? Please—you'll have to do a lot better than that."
Paradi shook with rage, his teeth grinding audibly.
Without a word, his right hand stealthily extended a single finger—ready to strike.
"You want to know about Chris T. Aeridar?"
A hoarse, venomous voice suddenly rang out from Cell No. 11.
Paradi and Mosa both stiffened, their faces turning dark.
He had been trying to stall for time—buying the warriors upstairs precious minutes to defeat Elver, the monster from the Crimson Man-Eating Flower crew.
But now, thanks to that crippled Navy man, their plans might fall apart.
TAP TAP TAP... TAP TAP TAP...
Paradi strode swiftly to Cell No. 11, shooting a sidelong glare at the battered figure lying inside—Sriya.
Paradi narrowed his eyes in disbelief.
"You think you have a kind enough heart to help?"
Sriya—his right leg severed by Paradi himself—grinned through blood-smeared lips.
His eyes, bloodshot and seething with hatred, locked onto Paradi's.
"You really wanna know?
"You guys actually pissed off that monster!"
He laughed manically, the sound echoing off the cold metal walls.
"Come on then—beg me!
"Get down on your knees!
"Beg, and I'll tell you everything I know about Golden Ring Aeridar inside the Navy!"
Hearing that, Mosa—still lying in Cell No. 6—let out a long, shaky breath.
As long as the bastard kept ranting, the clock kept ticking.
Paradi's face turned a furious shade of red.
Grabbing Sriya by the hair, he jerked his head up, their faces inches apart.
"I'll tear off your limbs one by one," he growled, every word sharp as a blade.
"I'll starve you to death."
Sriya's face twisted in pain—but his laughter only grew louder.
"You'll never find that treasure map the Guri Pirates stole from the Kingdom of Yala.
"You'll die, Paradi—killed by Golden Ring Aeridar himself!"
Blinded by rage, Paradi slammed Sriya's head hard into the floor.
Several times, he raised a hand, index finger poised to strike—but each time, he forced it down.
"I won't die," Paradi hissed, voice low and furious.
Throwing Sriya's battered body aside, he stalked back to the door of Cell No. 6.
From behind him, Sriya wiped blood from his forehead, cackling darkly.
"That monster will tear you apart."
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