Elior walked up to the cell — and sure enough, it was Douglas Bullet.
Staring into those terrifying, almost beast-like eyes, Elior felt a chill run through his body. He might have immense power now, but Bullet was different. Bullet was a demon who had crawled out of a mountain of corpses, a living embodiment of carnage and destruction.
And Elior? He was just someone who had only recently obtained power.
Even now, wearing a prison uniform with his hands and feet bound by seastone shackles, Bullet's terrifying aura hadn't diminished in the slightest.
He truly was a monster.
"An outsider? You can use ice powers... don't tell me Aokiji is dead?"
Bullet's gaze locked onto Elior, and despite his imprisonment, he could sense Elior's power — a strength that seemed to rival his own.
This was the intuition of the strong.
"Douglas Bullet, how about we make a deal?" Elior smiled. Passing Ace's cell earlier, an idea had begun to form in his mind. Seeing Bullett only solidified his plan.
"A deal? Do you really think you're qualified to negotiate with me?"
Bullet was an absolutely prideful man — and with his strength, he had every reason to be.
"You're a prisoner. What qualifications do you have to reject me?"
Elior could feel it. With the Demon's Extract he had obtained, his strength was at least on par with Esdeath's — perhaps even stronger. Esdeath had been a monster that transcended dimensions, despite Akame ga Kill not being a world of overwhelming strength.
With such power at his fingertips, why would Elior fear Bullet?
"How amusing"
Bullet grinned.
"What deal are you talking about?"
"I'll set you free. In return, you work for me for one year. After that, you're free to go wherever you want. You've been rotting in this prison for twenty years, right? What's one more year?" Elior said.
And what do you want me to do? Fight for you?"
Bullet chuckled, intrigued by Elior's proposition.
Elior... wanted to control him?
"I'm preparing for a war unlike any other. I need your strength"
After the Summit War, the power structure of the New World was shaken. In the original story, Blackbeard replaced Whitebeard and became the new yonko. But now that Elior was here, he couldn't help but wonder: why couldn't he be the one to replace Whitebeard?
He would take Whitebeard's place.
And to do that, he needed powerful forces under his command.
Bullet was the perfect candidate.
Even after twenty years of imprisonment, Bullet's strength hadn't waned. As an awakened devil fruit user, his combat power might even rival that of the yonko.
Would Bullet follow him?
That's why Elior made the offer: work for him for one year. It wasn't submission; it was cooperation.
Besides, Elior believed that as he grew even stronger, not even Bullet would be able to resist acknowledging his power.
Bullet chased after absolute strength. He respected and submitted to power.
"A war unlike any other?"
Bullet raised an eyebrow.
"A war to bring down Whitebeard"
For the first time in twenty years, Bullet was truly shocked.
And he didn't believe it.
Whitebeard wasn't just a pirate — he was a living legend. Bullet's lifelong goal had been to surpass Roger and become the strongest man alive. But Roger had defeated him time and time again.
Yet even Roger couldn't defeat Whitebeard — they had only ever fought to a draw.
Whitebeard was the man the world acknowledged as the strongest.
A monster with the power to destroy the world.
And now, someone was telling him there would be a war that would kill Whitebeard?
"A new era is coming, Bullet. Are you really planning to rot in this prison? Or do you want to sit here in Impel Down and hide?"
Elior smirked.
"Release me. If that man is truly going to fall, I want to witness it myself."
"Then it's a deal. One year."
Elior shattered the cell door and used advanced armament haki to break Bullet's seastone shackles — a technique Rayleigh had used in the original series.
"Aren't you afraid I'll break my promise, kid?" Bullet stretched his limbs, the other prisoners trembling in fear.
"You're a conqueror, not a rat. And my name is Elior."
Bullet grinned. "A conqueror, huh? Damn, freedom feels good."
"Let's go. We still need more people."
Elior continued down the corridor, scanning the prisoners like he was picking livestock at a market. The criminals watched him, eyes filled with desperate hope. They craved freedom, power, and indulgence — but Elior wasn't interested in weaklings.
"Catarina Devon? No."
"Avalo Pizarro? Trash."
"Vasco Shot? Useless."
"A bunch of pathetic scum. Not worth my time."
Then Elior stopped. In one of the cells, a familiar figure sat in the shadows.
Crocodile.
At that exact moment, Crocodile looked back at Elior, their eyes locking.