Chapter 27: The Shadow of Xiliu (A Special Chapter Celebrating 300 Collections)

Buffon, who had “disappeared” for over two hours, resurfaced in a remote corner devoid of both the Navy and Shadow Bats. Activating the power of the Clear-Clear Fruit, he slipped past everyone and the bats, quietly making his way back to the exit of the fourth floor.

When he deactivated his fruit and encountered the first guard, the man looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Bu—Buffon?” the Navy guard asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” Buffon nodded.

The guard, visibly shaken, stammered, “Did the devil return you?”

Buffon shook his head and asked, “Where’s Hannibal? I turned around for a moment and he and his men vanished. I don’t know the way, so it took me ages to find my way back.”

Since there were no Den Den Mushi on the fifth floor, Buffon began to fabricate his story. Given Hannibal’s notoriously unreliable reputation, no matter how he tried to explain, few would believe him.

Moments later, the search party returned. Upon seeing Buffon, Hannibal reacted as if he’d found a long-lost relative, his voice trembling with emotion: “Buffon, your miraculous skill at stitching wounds must have scared the devil off! He dared not keep you and sent you back.”

Magellan promptly knocked Hannibal out with a single punch, ordering his men to drag the babbling fool away.

He even rarely offered Buffon an explanation: “Sorry, Buffon. Hannibal’s idiocy is to blame.”

Buffon waved it off, signaling he didn’t mind.

“Ki-hi-hi-hi-hi! Buffon, I’m so glad you’re safe. If anything happened to you, I’d tear this Impel Down apart!” Moria was clearly the happiest among them. If Buffon had truly been lost, then...

Tsuru approached, expressing her concern: “Buffon, it’s such a relief you’re unharmed. Rest assured, we will keep our promise.”

Buffon nodded, deciding it was best to maintain a respectful distance from the Navy strategist. He doubted the power of the Wash-Wash Fruit, which was said to cleanse the soul, would have any effect on him, but anyone who could serve as a Navy strategist surely possessed intelligence and cunning far beyond the ordinary. It was wise to keep away from such people.

The next day, the group, led by Magellan, entered the sixth floor of Impel Down.

Passing cell after cell, gazing at the infamous pirates shackled with Seastone handcuffs, Buffon, the “Emperor of Understanding,” could not help but sigh. He thought of the future, when Blackbeard would force them into duels—the spectacle would be nothing short of exhilarating.

Buffon spotted a prisoner being strangled by Catarina Devon with an iron chain in their shared cell, her eyes already rolling back.

Magellan ordered the guard to open the cell door and lashed out with his whip, flogging the notorious female pirate until her skin was split and bleeding.

“Catarina Devon, behave yourself! This is Impel Down, not your pirate ship,” Magellan scolded angrily.

“Magellan, if you have the guts, kill me now! Don’t make me wear this hideous prison uniform any longer!” Devon shouted defiantly, her laughter chilling.

Magellan glanced at Buffon and asked seriously, “Buffon, could you show us again your despair-inducing skill at stitching wounds?”

Buffon didn’t reply, but deliberately stepped back.

This show of timidity caught Garp’s eye, and he burst out laughing: “Buffon, there’s no need to worry. With me here, this nine-tailed little fox won’t dare touch you!”

“Iron Fist Garp!” Devon snarled, her eyes full of resentment.

Buffon finally nodded, stepped forward, and his hands danced with threads, swiftly stitching up Devon’s wounds before quickly exiting the cell.

He acted the part of a small pirate facing the mighty with exquisite fear and anxiety.

Devon stared at her newly stitched wounds in amazement.

“Are you the new prison doctor?” she asked, surprised.

Buffon ignored her.

Instead, Magellan spoke: “Devon, if you keep this up, next time you won’t be treated by such a skilled prison doctor. If you end up with hideous scars…” Magellan laughed wickedly.

“Magellan, you’re a devil!” Devon’s tone had lost its earlier frenzy.

Buffon mused inwardly, “It seems all women care about their appearance.” At the same time, he gained a new respect for Magellan’s mastery of human nature.

The group left Devon behind and proceeded to Shiryu’s cell.

The hulking figure lurking in the shadows, upon seeing their arrival, tipped his hat with shackled hands and spoke calmly: “So many big shots at once—Magellan, are you here to serve me my last meal?”

When no one answered, he continued, “No need for a last meal, just give me a cigar. It’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed that intoxicating flavor.”

Shiryu’s words were not without reason. If this were merely a routine inspection, there’d be no need for two Navy Vice Admirals and a Warlord.

Tsuru spoke up: “Shiryu, your twisted soul cannot be cleansed even by my ability. You are a disgrace to the Navy.

We’re here to ensure you never leave Impel Down, and to show you the meaning of despair.”

Upon hearing this, and seeing Moria, Shiryu guessed their intentions.

He sneered, “In this prison, Navy and inmates alike live in perpetual darkness. Without some amusement, who could endure it long-term?

Moria’s here too—come to take my shadow? Ha-ha-ha-ha! Garp, Magellan, is this your so-called righteous justice?”

His laughter echoed through the sixth floor, words meant both for himself and every prisoner within earshot.

“Get to it, Moria!” Magellan, unwilling to listen to more nonsense, urged.

“Ki-hi-hi-hi-hi! Shiryu, rest assured—I’ll find a suitable corpse for your shadow!” Moria said, lighting a candle and placing it behind Shiryu.

He then prepared to extract the shadow, but Shiryu, a formidable opponent, would not submit quietly. He swung his chained iron links and engaged Moria in combat.

The three Navy members had no intention of intervening, clearly hoping Moria would ask for help. As Navy officers, any chance to put Moria in his place was too good to pass up.

Moria gave Buffon a meaningful glance, and Buffon nodded in understanding.

He pulled out a cigar and lit it. The moment Shiryu caught the scent, he rushed toward Buffon.

Buffon slipped effortlessly into character, trembling as he dropped the cigar to the floor.

Shiryu snatched it up and took a deep drag, his face intoxicated.

While Shiryu closed his eyes in pleasure, Buffon whipped out spider silk and, in a flash, bound Shiryu tightly.

“Hmph, pirate! You think this will hold me?” Shiryu growled, straining against the bonds, but no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t break free.

His smug expression shifted to one of astonishment.

The three Navy officers were equally shocked. Tsuru asked, “Is this the thread you use for stitching wounds? It’s so resilient?”

Shiryu was not a Devil Fruit user, so he wore no Seastone cuffs—his current strength was unchanged, which prompted Tsuru’s question.

Buffon didn’t answer. Instead, Moria burst out laughing, “Ki-hi-hi-hi-hi! This is Buffon’s special spider silk thread—it can’t be cut by blade or sword!”

Moria was improvising. He only knew Buffon used spider monkey silk, and the “Buffon special” was his own addition.

He didn’t realize Buffon used the Silk-Silk Fruit to create his own thread, just as a cover.

This web of lies made Tsuru value Buffon even more: “Buffon, who would have thought you’d go so far as to research and develop thread just for stitching wounds? Such dedication is essential for a Navy officer!

It’s wasted stitching corpses for Moria. If you’d like to join us, the Medical Division would welcome you as a major.”

Buffon remained unmoved, shaking his head and signaling Moria with his eyes.

“Ki-hi-hi-hi-hi! Tsuru, aren’t you shameless, poaching people right in front of me?” Moria retorted, picking up the bound Shiryu and ignoring his curses, then snipped away Shiryu’s shadow.

He tossed the unconscious Shiryu to the ground and said to Buffon, “Let’s go.”