Blackbeard had never been a stingy man. As for Magellan, his attitude was simple: don't get in my way. If he could kill the warden without breaking a sweat, he'd certainly do it. But he wasn't about to risk his life for the pleasure.
The group blasted through any obstructing rocks and buildings, making a straight line for Impel Down's main gate.
…
The Gates of Justice. A warship, encased in a giant balloon, floated slowly overhead.
Wilder couldn't care less what happened after this. Truly, once he was free of Impel Down, the sky was the limit, the sea his oyster. Whether or not the original storyline changed was no longer Wilder's concern.
It wasn't that Wilder hadn't considered using his foreknowledge of events to gain some advantage. But he also understood that his own strength was the foundation upon which he would stand in this world. The plot could only ever be a minor, optional aid. The grand currents of the world were not something that those behind him could influence or control.
A hole was ripped in the balloon, and the warship began its descent.
Wilder held the black device in his hand, a smirk playing on his lips. This grand gift was something he'd spent four years preparing. Each level of the swamp hells had cost him a significant amount of effort. Originally, it was meant for self-preservation, but later, he'd considered other uses. And so, the recent grand explosion had come to be.
He'd pre-planted explosives at the exit cracks of each swamp hell level, then detonated them, causing the swamps to overflow and trigger a collapse. It was bound to be quite entertaining.
"At this point… the Summit War should be about to kick off, right?"
Murmuring to himself, Wilder walked to the ship's bow. He found he liked this position; it seemed every leader enjoyed standing in a similar spot.
Claire walked up and stood silently beside him. Here, with him, she felt a sense of warmth.
"Claire, we need to see the world," Wilder said after a moment of silence, his eyes fixed on the distant sea. "But I can't guarantee we'll come out unscathed."
"Mm. Boss is very strong," Claire replied after a moment's thought, offering a statement as ambiguous as Wilder's.
"That I am."
Wilder stepped onto the railing.
"Claire will always follow Boss," she said, her eyes flickering for a moment before she lowered her gaze. Then, with light, quick steps, she moved to cling to him.
The warship landed on the sea with a slight rocking motion. On the deck, over twenty marines had already been sent to a watery grave. Only those who had escaped Impel Down with Wilder remained.
Besides Wilder himself, Claire, Eigg, Vice, and Yves, the remaining five were individuals Wilder had hand-picked from Level 5. Originally, there were supposed to be six, but due to an unforeseen incident, Wilder had killed one.
Among the five was Bacon, a Polar Bear Fruit user.
Another was the stoic, middle-aged man with a sword who had previously sliced a cannonball in half. He was exceptionally composed, his eyes calm, and he wore a small ponytail.
Of the remaining three, one was the fierce-looking man who had previously caught a cannonball, a perpetual sneer on his face. He was of average height but had powerfully thick arms. His name was Sherilmo.
Then there was a younger man wearing glasses, the most delicate-looking of the group. He had pale skin, smooth, flowing hair, and was more beautiful than most women. His name was Franpetar, and his weapons were dual pistols – taken from the marines, of course. He also possessed strong physical abilities, with exceptional jumping and dodging skills.
The last was a man wearing a newsboy cap and a mask, a cold glint occasionally flashing in his eyes. His name was Ashin.
These were Wilder's current subordinates, their strengths varied. The last five all had bounties over 100 million.
As for Vice and the others, Eigg and Claire might be slightly weaker, but Vice… well, at least, no one on the ship, except Wilder, could confidently say they could defeat him.
Yves was an unexpected byproduct. His ability was quite useful, even powerful. With further development, it might unleash extraordinary power. However, Yves himself was a bit of an oddball. Not only did he not use his ability properly, but his reactions were also incredibly slow. Therefore, Yves's combat strength was the hardest to judge; sometimes he might be weak, other times surprisingly strong.
"Well then… I'll make the food!"
After Wilder came down from the bow, Bacon seized the opportunity to speak. He was worried about being killed by Wilder. At the very least, he lacked the courage to face death now. Having finally escaped that hellhole, he needed to not only cling to Wilder's powerful leg but also demonstrate his value, completely dispelling any possibility of being killed.
"Nyehehehe… Very well. I hope you'll surprise us, Bacon," Wilder said, giving him a look and flashing a wide, intense grin.
"Uh… Yes, yes!" Bacon shivered, then excitedly thumped his chest. "Don't worry, Boss! I used to be a chef!"
"Nyehehehe… Then I'm truly lucky. I believe in you, Bacon. You'll make a delicious and wonderful feast. Well then… I'll leave it all to you."
"Remember to be quick. Soon… the wind will pick up." Wilder walked past Bacon, a meaningful smile on his face.
Bacon, at least, hadn't been exaggerating. Before long, a lavish spread of dishes was laid out on the deck. Just by the look of it, it was clear the taste wouldn't disappoint.
Naturally, fine wine was essential to enjoying such a feast. Wilder opened his palm, and a bottle filled with red liquid slowly descended from it.
Claire, standing faithfully behind Wilder, reached out to take the bottle and open it.
Wilder waved his hand. "Claire… and everyone, sit down and eat together. We're comrades, after all." He looked at the group with a wide smile.
"Hahaha! Then I won't hold back, Boss!" Vice laughed loudly and took a seat first.
The others glanced at him, then at Wilder, and followed suit.
Their first grand meal since escaping prison was realized in this manner. There was wine and meat, though, of course, there had been no wine on the warship. The wine Wilder produced was only enough for half a cup each, but it was better than nothing.
With full bellies and satisfied thirsts, a strong wind began to blow in from afar without anyone noticing when it had started.
Wilder narrowed his eyes, looking ahead. A white line spanning the entire sea surface appeared in his vision.
"Everyone, get ready." Standing up, Wilder was the first to walk to the mast. After a moment's thought, he scooped Claire up in his arms, amidst her flustered, blushing cries of surprise.
His body transformed into swamp, enveloping Claire. The Serpent Demon form wrapped tightly around the mast.
"Hehehe…"
Bacon raised his eyebrows at the person beside him, flashing a lewd grin, intending to signal something. But no one paid him any attention. Everyone rushed to find a place to hold on tight.
"What's wrong, everyone?"
A sense of foreboding washed over Bacon. He stiffly turned his head to look out at the distant sea.
"Holy crap!"
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