One Piece: The Cryo Doctor on the Straw Hat Ship

Some prisoners had vacant eyes and their limbs gleamed with an unfamiliar metallic sheen. They silently followed the prison guards away, like puppets that had lost their souls.

More often than not, those who entered that door never came out again.

The sound of the metal door opening and closing was rhythmic and cold, like the heartbeat of this deep-sea prison.

“This is the 127th batch.” Sanji glanced at the internal recorder and whispered to Luffy, his brows furrowing slightly. “That V guy is like a tireless machine.”

Luffy sat cross-legged on the ground, his straw hat pulled low, obscuring his expression.

He just grunted in response, his fingers unconsciously digging into the wall.

He had no time to think about anything else; all he wanted was to rescue Sabo as soon as possible.

Fortunately, according to the images transmitted back by the nanobots, Sabo, although seriously injured, is at least out of danger.

……

……

at the same time.

Inside the director's room on the 4th floor of LEVEL.

Magellan sat behind a huge desk, piled high with documents and reports, but he wasn't reviewing them. Instead, he rested his hands on his chin, his face terribly grim.

Deputy Commissioner Hannibal stood at the table, his forehead covered in cold sweat, holding a newly completed prisoner movement report in his hands. His voice was somewhat shrill with anxiety:

"Chief! Something's wrong!"

"According to reports from the wardens at each level, in the past two days, the Straw Hat crew's Level 4 special operations area has been extracting more than fifty prisoners per hour on average! And this number is still increasing!"

He leaned forward, almost shoving the report in Magellan's face:

"Especially Level 5, the extreme cold hell! The number of serious offenders it originally held has been reduced by 70%!"

"If this continues, they'll probably empty the entire Impel Down in just a few days!"

Magellan slowly raised his head, his deep purple pupils flashing with a dangerous, venomous light.

"What became of the prisoners who were captured?" His voice was low, tinged with a helpless sigh.

"Some of them were sent back to their original floors, but... their bodies all showed signs of 'modification' to varying degrees, and their consciousness seemed to have been affected, making them slow to respond when questioned."

Hannibal wiped his sweat: "But many more prisoners... went in and never came out again."

"The records in the workshop show that they were 'used for high-damage experiments,' but the Straw Hat crew's briefing only contained vague terms like 'neural prosthetic adaptation test' and 'life support system limit experiment'!"

"What instructions have you received from the World Government?" Magellan asked.

"Still the same old thing!" Hannibal said angrily. "They just say 'to cooperate with the Straw Hat crew's experimental needs,' and 'everything is subject to the transaction agreement!'"

"But Director, this isn't normal research collaboration anymore! It's like...like mass-producing prisoners!"

Magellan remained silent, stood up, and walked to the huge observation window.

Outside the window was part of LEVEL 4's scorching hell, with churning pools of blood and scorching steam billowing below, but at this moment his gaze seemed to pierce through layers of barriers and land on that special workroom.

"The Straw Hat Pirates..." Magellan muttered, venom seeping from the corner of his mouth, which he then forcibly inhaled. "What on earth are you doing?"

“Chief, shouldn’t we take action? At least increase surveillance, or limit the amount they extract?” Hannibal suggested, his hand already on the hilt of his knife.

Magellan did not answer immediately.

"Forget it." After a long silence, Magellan turned around and ordered, "They're just a bunch of criminals. There's no need to let them affect the World Government's plans."

With Sabo and the revolutionary soldiers' public execution imminent, even he, the warden of the deep-sea prison, did not want to cause any unnecessary trouble.

……

……

the other side.

Countless nanobots silently infiltrated the city's intricate piping system, ventilation shafts, and even the smallest cracks in the walls.

They traversed the scorching air currents of LEVEL 4, the frigid chill of LEVEL 5, and finally, in the theoretically "non-existent" rock formation between LEVEL 5 and LEVEL 6, they detected an anomaly.

[Large-scale biothermal signal detected... Artificial light source detected... Non-standard building structure detected...]

[Corrected coordinates: Impel Down's main structural mezzanine, depth between LEVEL 5 and LEVEL 6. A large hollow cavity exists, showing signs of a stable ecosystem within.]

Chapter 209 I'll Help You

Seeing the pop-up notification window, V in the control room smiled almost imperceptibly.

found it.

Floor 5.5, the new ladyboy amusement park.

Beneath the chilling cold of Level 5, a place seemingly capable of freezing the soul, in the deeper crevices of the rock strata, nanobots, like a silver tide possessing collective intelligence, converge from all directions, gathering, stacking, and reorganizing at the exit of a hidden ventilation duct.

The metal units interlock and connect, producing a faint "click" sound that is almost imperceptible.

A few seconds later, a fist-sized, smooth, mirror-like silver sphere floated in mid-air.

The surface of the sphere shimmered with iridescent light, and within it, the faint pulse of light from a data stream could be seen.

Floor 5.5, the new ladyboy amusement park.

This place is completely different from the hellish scene above.

The cave was carved into a spacious area, and the walls were painted with bright, almost glaring paint, with exaggerated smiley faces and hearts drawn on them.

Ribbons and cheap light bulbs hung overhead, illuminating this underground kingdom.

The air was thick with the strange smell of sweat, cheap perfume, and some kind of food mixture.

Ladyboys dressed in various exaggerated costumes and wearing heavy makeup gathered in twos and threes. Some were practicing dance, some were arguing about the latest fashion, and some were fixing their wigs in front of a simple mirror.

This is the "blind spot" of Impel Down, a glimmer of hope born from despair.

However, deep within this "paradise," in the cave office that had been simply converted into a command center, the atmosphere was completely at odds with the joy outside.

The air seemed to freeze, so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

Ambrio Ivankov's massive frame sat behind a "desk" roughly carved from rock. His eyes, heavily made up with eyeshadow, were devoid of their usual playfulness and exaggeration, replaced only by a deep solemnity.

His thick fingers tapped the table unconsciously, making a dull "tap-tap" sound.

On the desk lay a hand-drawn, extremely simplified structural sketch of Impel Down, along with several fragments of intelligence, scribbled over in secret channels.

The top one prominently features a photo of Sabo, along with news reports about Sabo's execution.

"Lord Ivankov..."

Lightning, a Revolutionary Army cadre and user of the Scissors-Scissors Fruit, stood in front of the table, his voice low and anxious.

His thin face was filled with worry, and his hands unconsciously clenched into fists.

"There are only a few days left before Sabo's execution. If we don't take action soon, I'm afraid... we'll just have to watch the Revolutionary Army fall into the World Government's trap."

Lightning's voice grew increasingly low, each word seeming to be squeezed out with difficulty from the depths of his throat.

The cave office was deathly silent.

Ivankov's massive frame leaned slightly forward, casting a shadow over the sketches on the table.

His face, taut beneath his heavy makeup, was taut, and his eyes, which always held a hint of madness and mockery, were now as calm as an abyss.

“I know time is of the essence,” Ivankov finally spoke, his voice hoarse, “but that’s precisely why we can’t act rashly.”

"Moreover, the World Government's goal has never been to execute Sabo..."

"Even if we do manage to rescue him, it won't affect this battle in the slightest."

"The World Government could easily find a scapegoat and disguise it as Sabo."

Lightning gritted his teeth: "But—"

“No buts.” Ivankov interrupted him, his tone resolute and unquestionable. “The World Government set this trap to force us into a fire pit.”

"Eighty-three hostages... They were certain that the revolutionary army would not stand idly by."

"And even if we do manage to save Sabo, so what?"

"With our strength alone, it's simply impossible to successfully bring Sabo out of here."

"Damn it!" Lightning, usually calm, slammed his fist on the table in a fit of rage.

But just then, a voice suddenly rang out in the enclosed space: "Perhaps I can help you solve this problem."

"Who goes there!?"

Ivankov and Lightning were both startled, and they looked up sharply, their sharp eyes instantly sweeping towards the direction from which the sound came.

In the shadows of a corner of the cave.

There was no one there.

But the next second, the shadow seemed to come alive. Countless tiny silver specks of light seeped out from the cracks in the rock wall like quicksand, rapidly converging and recombining in mid-air, and in the blink of an eye, they condensed into a fist-sized, smooth, mirror-like silver metal sphere.

The sphere floated silently, its interior shimmering with a deep blue aura of data.

Lightning let out a low shout, his body instantly assuming a battle stance, his fingertips gleaming with a sharp, cold light, transforming into the shape of scissors.

He stepped forward, blocking Ivankov's path, and stared warily at the strange creation.

Ivankov's massive body slowly rose from the stone chair, his eyes, hidden beneath heavy makeup, narrowed as he carefully examined the silver sphere.

Instead of launching an attack immediately, he asked in a deep voice, "What are you? A new type of surveillance system from the World Government? Or... some kind of Devil Fruit ability?"

"Neither." The silver sphere shimmered with light, and the calm voice rang out again, this time clearer, as if carrying a hint of human-like laughter, "I am V, the vice-captain of the Straw Hat Pirates."

"I don't know if any of you have heard any information about me."

"The Straw Hat Pirates? V?"

Ivankov's pupils contracted slightly.

He had certainly heard of the name, the supernova who had risen rapidly in the past year and gained even more fame for becoming a Shichibukai and for a series of world-shaking events.

Their ability to move freely between floors suggests they possess a formidable grasp of intelligence.

But... how did the Straw Hat Pirates end up here?

How did they find this top-secret place?