[88] : Losers!

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Arthur had initially ignored his cellmate, not expecting him to attack.

"Hey, kid! Speak up! What's happening outside? Not talking, huh? I'll kick you to death!"

The figure landed a few more blows.

"Damn! He's tougher than he looks." The prisoner cursed, surprised by Arthur's resilience. Years of drugged food in Impel Down had weakened him.

It had been so long since Arthur had experienced such humiliation that he'd almost forgotten the feeling. He narrowed his eyes, clenching his weakened fists, his killing intent simmering beneath the surface.

His first priority in Eternal Hell was to eliminate this annoyance.

He remained silent, his mind racing. A dragon stranded in shallow water, a tiger trapped in a pit—he couldn't blame anyone but himself for his weakness.

His progress had been remarkable, yet he'd still been captured by the Marines' strongest.

Regret was pointless.

Everyone paid the price for their actions. He'd accepted this risk long ago.

Bang!

The prisoner, his frustration growing, aimed a kick at Arthur's chest.

Arthur grunted, suppressing a cry of pain.

The more intense the pain, the colder his resolve became, his killing intent growing like a storm gathering beneath a calm sea.

The prisoner stopped kicking, his voice laced with surprise. "Huh? Still alive after that? Tougher than I thought."

"Since you're awake, stop playing dead. Tell us what's happening out there. Are those big shots—Shiki, Whitebeard, Roger, Redfield—dead yet?" He nudged Arthur with his foot, then kicked him against the wall.

Arthur's back slammed against the hard surface. The impact shifted his position, allowing him to sit up, leaning against the wall.

Away from the shadows, he could finally see his surroundings in the dim light filtering into the cell.

His [Observation Haki] showed him auras and white silhouettes, not detailed images. He needed his eyes for that.

His cellmate, like him, was bound by thick chains—his hands, while Arthur's were his ankles.

The man was about thirteen feet tall—a giant compared to Arthur's six-foot-six frame.

'Not a Devil Fruit user. He can move freely despite the chains, but his strength isn't that impressive…He's not at his full potential,' Arthur assessed silently, his expression calm.

"Hey, kid! Answer me! What's happening outside? And how did a brat like you end up in Eternal Hell?" the giant roared.

Arthur ignored him, his mind focused on escape. A life sentence in this hellhole was worse than death.

The Seastone cuffs suppressed his powers, leaving him weak, unable to break free.

This was Level Six, Eternal Hell, Impel Down's most secure level. The bars were likely reinforced with Seastone.

The walls, seemingly made of some incredibly strong metal alloy, were impenetrable. And outside, countless Sea Kings patrolled the waters. This place was a fortress, inescapable.

'Escape can wait. First, I need to eliminate this nuisance.' Arthur's gaze hardened as he stared at his cellmate.

At full strength, this wouldn't be an issue. But now, he had to be more strategic.

Escape required a quiet, controlled environment. This loudmouth was a liability, a risk. Shiki, when he escaped, must have either killed his cellmate or found some way to silence him.

Clang! The chains rattled as the four-meter giant roared his frustration.

"Kid! Are you deaf? Answer me!"

Arthur, safely out of reach, continued to ignore him, the irritating noise fading into background static.

"Shut up, Flores Moreno! You're interrupting my nap. You want to die?" A powerful voice boomed through Eternal Hell, silencing Moreno.

"Conqueror Haki?" Arthur's Observation Haki found the source—a man of average height.

Silence descended for a moment, then Moreno, his pride wounded, yelled, "Who do you think you are? I'll talk as much as I want! This is Eternal Hell, not the open sea! You think you can kill me? You crippled weakling, beaten by Whitebeard!"

"Hahaha! At least I didn't piss myself when I faced Shiki! You should be ashamed to even be alive!"

"Hehehehehe!"

"Shishishishi!"

Eternal Hell erupted in a cacophony of mocking laughter, echoing from dozens of cells, the rattling of chains a morbid percussion. They'd forgotten Arthur's arrival, their attention focused on ridiculing those defeated by the New World's top dogs.

"Bunch of pathetic losers, too busy mocking each other to even try to escape." Arthur's voice, sharp and cold, cut through the noise.

His presence was far more intimidating than Moreno's.

His life of freedom and unrestrained power had brought him to the brink of awakening his Conqueror's Haki.

If he could move, he would do what Shiki had done—break his own legs to escape this hellhole. He wouldn't rot in this tomb.

He was ruthless, to others—and to himself.

"Who are you calling a loser, kid? You think you're so special?"

"Everyone here is a loser. Unless…you walked in here on your own? Hahaha!"

"Hahahahaha!"

The prisoners' mockery now targeted Arthur.

They were right. Everyone in Eternal Hell was a loser.

But…Arthur wasn't afraid of failure.

He feared becoming like Shiki—his ambition crushed, his spirit broken.

No one was born a winner. Failure and pain were necessary for growth.

But some…couldn't afford to fail. One misstep, and all their efforts would be for nothing.

Shiki was a prime example.

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