A bearded man in high heels drove an Army Wolf flying with a raised fist, but failed to notice another Army Wolf pouncing at him from behind.
Everyone else was tangled up with Army Wolves and had no ti to lend a hand. The wolf's gaping jaws were about to bite into the back of the bearded man's neck.
Just then, Charles dropped from above, planted a hand on the Army Wolf's head, and shoved it into the snow.
The wolf whimpered once and went still. Charles stood, his pupils turning to slits as he swept his gaze over the surrounding pack.
"Scram!"
As his voice fell, the snowflakes around him seed to be blown outward in a ring of pressure.
The Army Wolves' fur all bristled at once, and then they turned tail and bolted.
The n in won's clothes all stared at Charles in shock.
Know this: Army Wolves are so vicious they can't be kept on Level 2, the Beast Hell, because they would kill the other beasts.
Yet such ferocious creatures were scared off by a single word and a look. No wonder they were curious about the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere.
Charles's eyes returned to normal. "Can I ask directions? I want to get down to Eternal Hell below. Who knows where the entrance is?"
At that mont, a man with half-orange, half-white hair stepped forward. "That's no problem at all. But first I want to ask who you are—and why you're going to Eternal Hell?"
Distinctive looks have their perks: you can recognize the guy right away.
Inazuma, vice commander of the Grand Line Army of the Revolutionary Army and Emporio Ivankov's right hand. Gender unknown, with both male and female states.
A Choki Choki no Mi user, Inazuma can turn any part of the body into scissors, cutting steel and stone like paper. What's cut can also be manipulated like sheets of paper.
Charles hadn't noticed earlier, but it seed Inazuma was the one calling the shots among this group.
"I'm Charles," he said. "I ca to Impel Down to rescue soone on commission."
Inazuma thought for a beat. "Pointing the way is fine, but before that, may I boldly ask you to et our leader?"
Charles considered. "No problem. Lead on."
Inazuma wasted no words and guided the way across the snowfield.
Charles couldn't tell how they navigated the boundless white, but soon they found an entrance disguised as a snowdrift.
They went in, twisted through a warren of passages, and Charles erged into a wide space.
Lit by lamps and campfires, it was surprisingly bright—a settlent inside Impel Down was hard to imagine.
There were plenty of people here, all dressed as incongruously as the group that had brought Charles.
At the center, the most eye-catching of all was a man with a purple afro.
A man of many titles: like Kuma, one of the Revolutionary Army's founders and commander of the Grand Line Army.
Also the queen of the Kamabakka Kingdom, user of the Horm-Horm Fruit, known as the "Okama King."
It's said his dical skill is superb; he's revived people doctors deed beyond saving and even nations on the brink of death, leaving behind a famous "legend of salvation."
But years ago the Marines arrested him on trumped-up charges and locked him in Impel Down.
Not long after being imprisoned on Freezing Hell, he disappeared, and his na was erased from the rolls.
No one knew that he and his followers had dug out a space between Level 5 and Level 6. That was where Charles now stood.
Emporio Ivankov—the kind of person Charles would make ti to et even now—was a fascinating character.
Inazuma walked up to Ivankov and whispered a few words in his ear. Ivankov looked up at Charles.
Charles stepped forward. "Emporio Ivankov, the Okama King. An honor."
Ivankov leapt up and struck an exaggerated pose. "Charles-boy, how polite! I've already seen your exploits in the papers—defeating that brat Crocodile, truly splendid.
I hear you take on other people's commissions. I wonder if you could take mine as well?"
Say this for him: hiding from Impel Down's guards down here while securing supplies and keeping abreast of outside news—either Ivankov's that capable, or the prison's guards are that useless.
As for Ivankov's request, Charles had his guesses; what he needed was simple.
"So you want out of Impel Down, right?" Charles asked, glancing around.
Ivankov nodded. "Exactly. We still have a cause to pursue outside. We can't stay trapped here.
Don't worry—I'm a nation's queen. The paynt will satisfy you."
Ivankov had seen Charles in the papers long ago but hadn't cared then.
Now it was different. Charles had infiltrated Freezing Hell without Impel Down raising a peep—no need to doubt that kind of capability.
Commissioning Charles was, without question, Ivankov's most reliable chance to get out.
"Getting you out isn't a problem," Charles said, rubbing his chin. "Then it's a deal. Of course, I have to hit Eternal Hell first and rescue soone."
With the terms set, Ivankov showed impressive drive. He quickly mustered all his people and waited for Charles to free Ace before moving.
Led by Inazuma, Charles reached the entrance to Level 6.
There were plenty of surveillance snails on the passage down as well. Charles used the old trick to make them leave him a corridor and slipped smoothly into Eternal Hell.
Compared to the upper levels, Eternal Hell was more like a normal prison—no magma or ice fields, just rows of crude cells.
Crude they were, but tough as nails. The cells were lined with seastone; even Devil Fruit users could never break out.
The mont Charles stepped in, everyone noticed him, and he felt their auras in turn.
Anyone thrown in here had so command of Haki, and Conqueror's wasn't even rare.
A man so clearly not a prison guard naturally drew attention.
"Hey! Brat, who are you?"
A curious, scar-faced brute called out to him.
"May I ask," Charles replied politely, "who knows where Fire Fist Ace of the Whitebeard Pirates is being held?"
The scarred man's grin turned feral. "You wanna know? Open my cell, and maybe I'll kindly tell you."
Charles sighed. There's always a reason so people get caught; stupidity shouldn't run this deep.
He stamped a foot. A ribbon of fla ran along the ground into the cell and swallowed the scarred man whole.
He managed two screams and then dropped, turning into a black silhouette on the floor in a blink.
Just then, a familiar voice sounded.
"What are you doing here?"
Charles turned toward it. In the cell stood Crocodile in prisoner's garb, seastone cuffs on his wrists.
"Yo. Long ti no see." Ignoring the hostility, Charles greeted him cheerfully.
Crocodile snorted. "From the looks of you, you weren't brought in. What, did you join the Marines?"
Charles didn't bother to answer. "Not your concern. I'm busy. We'll chat next ti."
Leaving Crocodile grinding his teeth, Charles headed deeper into Eternal Hell.
There he found a fat, imprisoned fish-man—and an empty cell next to him.
Charles frowned. Sothing about this wasn't right.
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