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Arthur respected men like Zephyr, but their paths diverged, leading inevitably to conflicting viewpoints and clashes.
"So what? Isn't strength meant to break free from chains, to seek thrills and excitement? What's wrong with that? You train relentlessly to uphold justice, right? It's the same principle. Who are you to preach?"
"Respect? That doesn't exist. The pursuit of one's path is relentless—a battle to the death!"
"If getting stronger isn't about achieving goals, then what's the point? Hahahahaha!!" Arthur's shoulders shook with unrestrained, defiant laughter.
Arrogant, rebellious, conceited.
Zephyr was speechless, momentarily lost in memories of his own youth, fighting to protect the weak, the sense of justice that had taken root deep within him.
Arthur's pursuit of freedom and excitement, he realized, was fundamentally no different from his own unwavering dedication to justice—an unyielding conviction, a lifelong obsession.
Everyone bears the consequences of their choices, pays the price for their actions. Only truly searing pain drives that lesson home.
"You caught me because I wasn't strong enough. I deserve this! Choosing a life of reckless abandon meant accepting the consequences of being hunted. I knew that from the start. So, Admiral Zephyr, spare me your pity. It'll only bite you in the end…"
Arthur's laughter subsided.
He closed his eyes again, his mind strangely calm. Zephyr, seeing Arthur's refusal to engage further, could only sigh and leave the brig.
"Stubborn little punk… Reminds me of myself! Bwahahaha!" Garp chuckled, munching on a donut, picking his nose.
"Tsuru-chan, wash the wickedness out of him, then send him to Impel Down to reflect for the rest of his life."
Tsuru nodded silently. The iron door creaked open, and she stepped into the cell, approaching Arthur.
She knelt, her hand shimmering with a crystalline glow as she placed it on his head.
In that instant, Arthur's exhaustion vanished, replaced by a clarity like waking from a perfect night's sleep, a feeling of weightlessness, as if floating in a hot spring.
He knew it was an illusion…
Tsuru's hand suddenly dimmed, her expression baffled, as if witnessing the impossible.
After a few stunned seconds, she tried again, activating her Wash-Wash Fruit power once more.
"Tsuru-chan, what's wrong?" Garp asked casually.
Tsuru looked haunted. "This… Arthur… he barely has any evil intent? It's impossible. Even the most decent people harbors some darkness!"
"Huh?" Garp's jaw dropped, his donut falling to the floor.
Even he and Zephyr, paragons of justice, wrestled with dark thoughts. How could Arthur, a notorious pirate, be almost devoid of malice?
"Hahahaha! Vice Admiral Tsuru, you're hilarious!" Arthur's mocking laughter echoed in the cell.
"Different perspectives define right and wrong!"
Arthur's original world had been peaceful, war a distant concept. Though news reported occasional acts of evil, they were exceptions.
But this world had shattered his old views, forging new ones.
The pirate world was chaos, ruled by competing factions—Marines, World Government, pirates—all vying for power.
This was his reality now.
Five years stranded on Jaya had shown him the brutal truth: pirates pillaged, the weak died, the strong survived. These were his new values.
Only power granted freedom, the right to live as one pleased, without restraint. This was his new philosophy.
Others saw him as evil, a villain. But Arthur didn't believe his actions were wrong. If he wasn't wrong, where would the evil intent come from?
"Different values, so where's the malice? Hahahaha!" Arthur laughed until he was breathless.
"This damned brat…a natural-born pirate." Garp's usual grin faded, replaced by a frown.
"Send him to Impel Down. He's beyond redemption," Tsuru said, rising and leaving the cell.
They would broadcast news of his capture to the world—a warning about the consequences of piracy.
In the dim cell, only Arthur's eyes still gleamed faintly.
Hours later, the warship entered the Calm Belt, arriving at the infamous Impel Down.
Arthur was roused from sleep as he was carried out. Light stabbed at his eyes. He instinctively tried to shield them, but found movement difficult.
"Almost forgot I got captured on Sabaody. Hahahaha!" He laughed silently, showing no sign of a prisoner's despair.
He vaguely heard Garp, Tsuru, and Zephyr speaking with others. Then, a figure, easily ten feet tall, took him from Garp.
He was dragged roughly, enduring agonizing, needle-like pain. He heard the roars of unseen beasts, felt scorching heat, then bone-chilling cold.
He was thrown onto a hard floor. He heard the rattle of chains as his legs were shackled to a wall.
He shook his head weakly, forcing his eyes open, surveying the relatively spacious cell.
The constant clatter of chains from nearby cells made rest impossible.
"Hahaha! A brat barely old enough to shave, thrown into Level Six—Eternal Hell? Are the Marines that incompetent now? Hahahaha!"
"When have the Marines ever been competent? They just pick off the winners after we've weakened each other! How else could they have caught me?"
"Kid! Stop playing dead! Tell us what's happening outside! Have Roger and Shiki started fighting yet?"
From the surrounding cells in the grim depths of Eternal Hell, powerful auras radiated. The prisoners, some lounging, others sitting cross-legged, were desperate for news from the outside world, starved for any connection to the life they'd lost.
Arthur briefly scanned Level Six with his Observation Haki. Seastone blocked his Devil Fruit powers, but not his Haki, though its range was drastically reduced without the amplification from his lightning.
"Where's Vasco Shot? Wasn't he captured? Is he not on Level Six?" Arthur wondered silently.
A heavy kick slammed into his side.
Arthur wasn't alone in the cell...
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