Lucifer: The Swamp Fruit

The Captain of the Whitebeard Pirates' Second Division, Portgas D. Ace, had been captured!

The world trembled!

The news spread like wildfire across the Grand Line and the Four Seas, shocking countless people.

The winds of change were blowing!

This was the first thought that sprang to many minds, a realization that left them deeply unsettled.

Newspapers fluttered across the Four Seas and the Grand Line.

On a certain island in the New World, a red-haired man with three scars across his eye silently lowered the newspaper he was holding. He picked up the peculiar sword at his feet and strode out.

"Let's go pay Whitebeard a visit."

...…

"Boom!" Terrifying waves crashed. In a certain sea region, a massive ship rocked with the waves. The skull flag indicated it was a pirate ship, its crescent-shaped white mustache upturned, crossbones beneath. A terrifying aura emanated from the vessel.

"Teach…!" A slightly hoarse voice issued from the ship, overflowing with rage and boundless killing intent. Dark clouds gathered, the sky threatening to collapse.

"Crack!" Thunder roared and rain poured, the air thick with pressure. Monstrous waves surged and churned, mirroring the voice filled with unrestrained fury.

...…

An invisible, silent storm swept across the world, setting off a chain reaction of unrest. A hidden current began to stir.

The World Government, Marine Headquarters… countless meetings, both large and small, were held in rapid succession. A tense atmosphere prevailed.

A top-secret operation, led by the highest echelons, was launched. Simultaneously, warships were urgently dispatched to the latter half of the Grand Line, the New World.

Eyes from within the hidden current watched the New World, the territory of that man. Confidential letters and messages were sent to every corner of the world.

Ambitious individuals opened their eyes, focusing on the two central players in this major event: the Whitebeard Pirates and Marine Headquarters!

Waves crashed, and the undercurrents surged.

Inside Impel Down, Wilder lowered the newspaper, his gaze dark and enigmatic. His lips silently parted in a wide grin, his shoulders trembling slightly with suppressed emotion.

"Gurgle…" The veins on his forehead throbbed. He could no longer contain the sound bursting from his wide-open mouth. A peal of laughter escaped, "Nyehahaha!"

"Snap!" A lighter sparked, the flame flickering unsteadily. Wilder lit a cigar, taking a deep drag, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Finally… the wait is over…

Nearly four years…

A cold glint shone from the slits of his narrowed eyes. Wilder half-reclined on the office sofa, his arms resting on the backrest. Smoke billowed from his mouth, obscuring his face, making it impossible to discern his expression.

"Claire."

"Do we have any more of my wine?"

"I understand, Boss." The clack-clack-clack of her heels faded away. Soon after, Claire returned, her lithe figure clad in a secretary's outfit, carrying an ice bucket. A glass bottle, filled with red liquid, rested diagonally inside.

"Tchk!" He pulled out the cork, grabbed a clear, stemmed glass, and filled it with the wine.

Claire respectfully pushed the filled glass towards Wilder.

"Have a drink with me today, Claire." Wilder picked up the glass, bringing it to his nose to inhale the aroma, a hint of intoxication in his voice.

"Ah? O-Okay!" Claire's face flushed instantly. She glanced at Wilder, quickly averted her gaze, then retrieved another glass and poured herself a drink.

"Claire, do you know why I've asked you to collect newspapers every day for the past six months?"

Claire shook her head, blushing slightly, but unable to suppress her curiosity.

"Nyehehehe… Because… well, you'll find out soon enough."

"Yes." Claire displayed no further reaction, obediently responding to Wilder's words.

"Well then… Cheers." Wilder grinned, raising his glass towards Claire.

"Ch-Cheers." Claire, flustered and excited, replied. This was the first time she'd ever shared a toast with Wilder-sama!

Before they knew it, the tall bottle of wine was empty. Wilder had consumed about forty percent, while the remaining sixty percent had vanished down Claire's small throat.

It wasn't that Wilder couldn't drink more; it was that Claire drank so quickly, as if afraid someone would steal it.

"Nyehehehe… Claire, you're drunk."

"No, I'm not! Don't be ridiculous!" Claire slumped on the table, her face flushed, her posture… suggestive.

"Heh…"

Wilder stood up, hoisted Claire onto his shoulder, pushed open a door, and tossed her onto his bed. He then closed the door and returned to his desk.

Lighting another cigar, his smile vanished. Events would now unfold at an accelerated pace, leaving him little time to react.

"Fire Fist Ace captured… Then… imprisonment, premature execution… Monkey D. Luffy's prison break, but… he'll miss it. Nyehehehe… Monkey…" Wilder's thoughts became increasingly clear, his eyes shining with ambition.

"Well then, it's time to pay a visit to that place."

Standing up, Wilder's cloak billowed despite the lack of wind, its black and red hues resembling a giant serpent lurking in a swamp, its blood-red eyes exposed.

A hidden area between Levels 5 and 6 of Impel Down, a place unknown to most, known as Newkama Land.

Tap-tap-tap…

Wilder, for the first time, entered this place, his steps steady and rhythmic. He'd already reverted to his original appearance, a cigar clenched between his teeth, a finely crafted pistol tucked into his waistband, wearing loose-fitting black and red clothing.

Rustle-rustle-rustle…

Rapid footsteps echoed from the interconnected passageways. Wilder's brow twitched. He exhaled a puff of smoke, continuing forward nonchalantly.

Wilder knew these were the vanguard, the scouts sent to greet him. As long as he continued, others, of higher rank, would inevitably come to meet him.

Level 5.5 was like a network of interconnected, massive pipes. It was extensive and easy to get lost in.

Wilder had no ulterior motive for coming. He simply wanted to see the character from the original story and… perhaps make a friend.

As he ventured deeper, the figures wandering around him became more numerous, their footsteps hurried and dense.

"Who are you? Stop right there!"

After walking a bit further, someone blocked his path.

Wilder's smile widened. He slowly raised his hands, looking at the eight or nine men pointing guns at him.

"Who are you? Where did you come from?" The leader, seeing this, lowered his gun slightly, but his eyes remained fixed on Wilder with vigilance.

"Nyehehehe… My name is Wilder. Where is Ivankov? I'd like to make his acquaintance. Please believe me, I mean no harm."

"Bang!" The moment Wilder finished speaking, the men's expressions changed drastically. The leader and another man exchanged a glance, raised their guns, aiming at Wilder's shoulder, and fired.

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