Chapter Twenty-Five: The Ghost Who Tugged the Sleeve

The crane stepped forward to block the two people who were trying to leave the fourth level, while Garp dragged Magellan into the warden’s office.

To be honest, Garp didn’t care much about the lives or deaths of the prisoners, but he was quite concerned about repairing the remains of the fallen marines.

After listening to Garp’s admonition, Magellan fell into deep thought.

Bufon’s displayed skills were indeed leagues above those of the prison doctors, by a factor of ten thousand. Coupled with Garp’s words, Magellan began to waver.

“If it’s just Shiryu, then I can make an exception this once! But he has to treat all the wounds of the prisoners in the fourth and fifth levels who were tormented by Shiryu, and Moriah cannot be present!” Magellan finally said after a long silence.

Garp nodded, and the two left the warden’s office.

Bufon, upon hearing the outcome, was naturally pleased. After all, why would he refuse something that brought him profit? Yet his face remained as expressionless as ever.

“Gehehehehe! Magellan, you’d better be polite. This is a transaction, not you giving orders,” Moriah ridiculed.

Magellan suppressed his anger, turned on his heel, and returned to the warden’s office without a word.

He then summoned Hannibal through the Den Den Mushi, instructing him to keep a close watch on Bufon and prevent him from doing anything to the prisoners.

After that, Bufon began stitching up the wounds of the prisoners on the fourth level under Hannibal’s supervision.

Moriah, meanwhile, was watched by Garp as he napped in the warden’s office.

In less than a day, Bufon had healed all the wounds of the prisoners tormented by Shiryu on the fourth level.

At first, Hannibal, who was “supervising” the whole process, didn’t feel much, but the longer he watched, the more shocked he became, his eyes twitching in disbelief.

With skills like this, if Bufon stayed in Impel Down, the prisoners could be tortured as much as they liked without consequence.

Thinking about this, Hannibal said, “Brother Bufon, if you ever feel unhappy with Moriah, why not come to Impel Down? When I become the warden, I’ll keep the deputy warden position open for you!”

Bufon shook his head without replying, though he thought to himself, You don’t even know if you can outlast Magellan, and yet you’re offering me the deputy warden’s seat!

Still, Impel Down was indeed a good place for him. In just one day, his earnings nearly matched a normal month’s profit.

Moreover, with these jailers who despise evil, the profits would keep coming.

But that was just a thought. As someone who wished to remain absolutely neutral, he had no desire to become a lapdog for the Celestial Dragons or the World Government.

The next day, Bufon followed Hannibal to the fifth level, feeling a little excited.

On the way down, Hannibal even handed him a padded coat.

“The temperature in the Freezing Hell is even lower than the ice storage. If you don’t wear this, you’ll turn into a popsicle within ten minutes!”

Of course, Hannibal said this based on his assumption that Bufon was just a run-of-the-mill pirate.

Bufon took the coat and nodded, not sure whether he could withstand a temperature even colder than the ice storage.

But when he reached Freezing Hell, Bufon suddenly remembered something. Since there were no Den Den Mushi on this level, and with the presence of that legendary entity, he could use the powers of the Clear-Clear Fruit to sneak down to the sixth level for a look.

The number of prisoners on the fifth level was only half that of the fourth, but their strength was clearly higher.

Spending another day there, Bufon’s earnings tripled compared to the previous day, and he even acquired a Devil Fruit ability. However, this fruit, which even he—a self-proclaimed encyclopedia—had never heard of, was called the Microscope Fruit, and its power was exactly as the name implied!

Bufon sneered inwardly, “This is truly a doctor’s toolkit. Nothing is missing. Are they expecting me to suture cells in the future?”

Seeing the job done, Hannibal urged Bufon to leave this hateful Freezing Hell. But when he turned around again, Bufon was nowhere to be seen.

“W-where is he?”

The two accompanying marine jailers also sensed something was wrong, and stammered, “Sir, could it be that the incident has happened again?”

“What incident?” Hannibal asked, puzzled.

As soon as he spoke, another jailer handed him a file. Hannibal flipped through it and saw several names crossed out in red ink.

“Was Emporio Ivankov released?” Hannibal asked, pointing to the first name.

“That guy Ivankov disappeared after that incident a few years ago!”

“That incident?” Hannibal still couldn’t recall.

“Deputy Warden, have you forgotten?” the jailer said.

“Oh, that… Let me test you—do you remember what that was?” Hannibal continued to feign ignorance.

The jailer nodded solemnly and replied, “It’s the occasional prisoner disappearance in Impel Down. It’s nothing like an escape; prisoners vanish without a sound, unable to move in the slightest.

We’re all terrified of these utterly unnatural disappearances, so we liken it to being dragged through the Devil’s Door, and call it the Phantom Sleeve Incident!”

At this, Hannibal finally realized the gravity of the situation. If it really was the Phantom Sleeve Incident, his position as Deputy Warden might be in jeopardy.

“Quickly send more guards to the fifth level and search thoroughly!” The two jailers took the order and rushed to the fourth level for reinforcements.

Meanwhile, Bufon relied on his memory to head toward the entrance of the sixth level. When he reached the gate, he found that it had been specially reinforced with Sea-Prism Stone, making it impossible to enter unnoticed.

Faced with this detail the original story never mentioned, even the all-knowing Bufon felt helpless. He didn’t want to reveal his abilities just yet, so he had no choice but to turn back.

Since he couldn’t go further, hiding was pointless. Bufon released his Clear-Clear Fruit ability on the fifth level, intending to find Hannibal and return with him to the fourth level.

Yet he hadn’t walked far when suddenly, the wall beside him split open like sliced paper.

Then a pair of giant red hands appeared and yanked him into the slit. The wall returned to its original state, and the tracks in the snow ended abruptly.

At the moment he was pulled inside, Bufon felt no fear. He simply smiled wryly to himself, “I only wanted to take advantage of the Phantom Sleeve, but I ended up being dragged away for real.”

But the one who pulled him in wasn’t the devil the jailers feared—it was Emporio Ivankov!

“Boy! You’re not wearing a marine uniform, and you’re not in shackles. Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Ivankov, with his long, thick eyelashes, blue eyeshadow, and purple lipstick on his exaggeratedly large face, leaned in close to Bufon, questioning him seriously.

At a towering 443 centimeters, Ivankov’s face was utterly out of proportion with his body, and his massive, explosive afro—which could easily hide a person—made him nearly as tall as the almost three-meter Bufon.

Bufon felt a little nauseous, but recalling Ivankov’s Horm-Horm Fruit, he forced himself to endure, then replied coldly, “I’m here to deliver something to you all from Bartholomew Kuma.”