As Robin reflected on everything Jason had said, they continued walking, and without realizing it, the scenery around them began to change. When the archaeologist finally looked up, the landscape took shape.
"We're here."
Jason's calm voice broke her trance. Robin blinked, surprised by the naturalness of the statement... and then her eyes widened. The golden city stretched out before them. Towers, temples, and entire walls made of pure gold glistened in the sunlight, as if the place were a solid mirage.
Robin turned to Jason's broad back with an indecipherable look. 'How...?' They hadn't walked nearly far enough to get there. By her calculation, they should still be far from Shandora. But there they were. Jason simply existed at a different pace from the rest of the world.
He noticed the look, but didn't comment. He just crossed his arms as he surveyed the ancient golden capital.
"Shandora..." he murmured, almost bored. "Pretty, but nothing special."
Robin frowned. For anyone else, that was an unattainable fortune. For Jason, it was... scenery.
The gleam of pure metal reflected in his blue eyes, which remained calm—like those of someone who had seen much more advanced civilizations, so rich that they treated gold like scrap metal.
And it was true.
For Jason, gold was no cause for excitement. But coming here was still significant. Not because he needed the wealth... but because it was part of the experience.
He could, with a snap of his fingers, create a mountain of gold. Or generate billions of berries out of thin air. Or, when he arrived in another universe, fabricate an identity as a billionaire sheik with the same ease as someone breathes.
But what would that be?
Boring.
Dull.
Monotonous.
Jason wanted to enjoy the journey. He wanted to have fun. He wanted challenges, achievements, stories to tell. He had infinite power, but he had no interest in turning everything into boredom.
"Why take everything for granted," he thought, "when I can show that I can achieve anything with just my intelligence, charisma... and a touch of my natural superiority?"
Jason smiled slyly.
Was he arrogant?
Of course.
Stupid?
Never. He would never start at rock bottom; he just made the game interesting enough to be worthwhile.
The reason Jason had come to Shandora was simple: he wanted some gold buildings as souvenirs. Not because he needed wealth, but because unique, historical objects like these were something interesting that Jason liked to collect. He could also finance projects or simply decorate a place he might come to live in. Gold was just a material, but ancient gold carried history. And Jason liked that.
He stopped in front of a colossal pillar, made entirely of pure gold. Shiny, imposing, heavy, and absolutely useless in front of him. Jason raised a finger, waving it in the air as if swatting a mosquito.
A sharp, dry sound echoed.
SHNK.
The entire pillar slid to the side, cut with surgical precision. As if it had been split by an invisible blade.
"Rankyaku?" Robin murmured.
The cut was too clean. Too professional. And Jason had done it with a slight movement of his finger. Robin wondered if he had modified the technique used by government agents to use with his hands.
She was close... but still wrong.
That wasn't a pressure cut in the air.
It was Jason cutting the very fabric of reality — one of the most basic skills he had created to kill.
Without pause, he cut three more pillars. Then two more. The blocks of gold fell heavily, making the ground shake; the residents near Shandora looked up at the sky in fear, trying to understand what was happening. Robin, on the other hand, was just trying to guess how Jason intended to transport tons of gold.
"I think that's enough."
Jason's shadow then trembled... and expanded. Like living black ink, it flowed across the floor toward the pillars. When it touched them, it swallowed them up like quicksand. One by one, the pieces of gold disappeared, swept away by that bottomless darkness.
Robin felt a chill run down her spine.
That shadow... The same one that had swallowed a noblewoman of the Celestial Dragons. The image of the woman being swallowed alive came back to her mind. 'Could it be... she's still in there?' The thought sent a chill through her body.
"Now we're talking," Jason said, wiping his hands as if he had finished a trivial task. "We can go to our destination."
He turned to Robin and walked toward her, invading her personal space without asking permission, as usual. His hand naturally wrapped around the archaeologist's slim waist, as if it were a gesture that already belonged to him.
Robin's heart raced.
"What are you..."
But the sentence died before it was finished.
The two disappeared like ghosts, without sound, without a trace, without warning. Only the air distorted for a second. And then... silence.
The only evidence that Jason and Robin had been in Shandora were the perfectly cut blocks of gold, as if a titanic surgeon had passed through.
==
Grand Line — several miles from Baltigo
On the endless blue horizon, a black metallic object floated alone in the sea. It wasn't a ship. It wasn't a boat. It was... a sleeping predator. Its elegant and aggressive curves conveyed danger — and perfection. Anyone who saw it would immediately understand two things:
1. it definitely did not belong to ordinary people;
2. no one in the world would know how to pilot it.
The air vibrated.
As if reality were breathing.
And then they appeared inside the cabin of that black machine: Jason and Nico Robin, still embracing, like a couple who had just teleported from one environment to another.
Robin blinked... twice.
"... Doing?" she murmured, extremely confused.
They had just left the golden city of Shandora—and now they were here, inside that impossible speedboat.
However, that wasn't even the most shocking part.
She looked at herself and froze.
She was now wearing an extremely elegant black bikini, with subtle details that enhanced every curve of her delicious body, thin-framed sunglasses, and a light sarong tied around her waist. Everything matched. Everything had been handpicked.
And she wasn't wearing that before.
Robin slowly turned to Jason... and saw him wearing an open shirt, light shorts, and sunglasses just like hers. Relaxed. Looking like he had done it for fun.
"... How did you take off my clothes and dress me in this bikini without me noticing?"
Jason smiled, that provocative, dangerous, and cheeky smile he made a point of showing whenever he had the chance.
"Relax. If I take your clothes off, it won't be as quick as it is now. It'll be a striptease... and you'll take them off willingly."
Robin felt her face flush. There was no way she could beat Jason in the field of daring. She quickly looked away, preferring to focus on the vessel so as not to feed his oversized ego.
The interior was even more impressive than the exterior. Clean lines. Technology that didn't exist in the world. Flashing control panels. Equipment that couldn't even be considered steampunk, it was something beyond that.
"What is this?" she asked, studying every detail.
Jason ran his hand over the panel as if petting a powerful pet.
"A high-performance nautical module, designed to offer comfort, stability, and glamour on the open water... or simply a speedboat."
Robin remained silent for a few seconds.
"..."
She decided to ignore the exaggerated presentation. Instead, she thought about the logistics. It was in the middle of the Grand Line, intact and perfect. Steal it? Not a chance. Anyone who tried would probably be hunted down and swallowed by Jason's own shadow.
She put her sunglasses back on and headed for the cabin, seeking the shade offered by the roof. When she sat down, the number of flashing buttons shocked her.
How did you drive that thing?
"Sit down and buckle up," Jason said. "This little beauty is very fast."
Robin fastened her seatbelt, trying to act natural... but the speedboat's aerodynamic shape screamed one thing: insane speed.
A deep, vibrating sound came from the rear. Robin turned just in time to see a sleek, perfect metal block emitting a soft blue glow—an engine like she had never seen before.
"What is that?" she asked, fascinated.
"An engine."
Jason turned a knob. The boat vibrated. The blue glow pulsed.
"Is it a steam engine?" Robin ventured.
"No. A steam engine wouldn't work for something like this." Jason tilted his head slightly. "This is an engine I designed myself. I use different versions of it in all my vehicles."
He smiled slightly before warning her:
"Don't be too scared."
Robin frowned.
She doubted it would be that—
VVVRRRROOOOOOM—
The speedboat EXPLODED into motion.
The world turned into a blue blur.
"Hiiiiiip—!"
Robin let out an involuntary squeal, grabbing the arms of the chair as if her life depended on it. The sea, the entire Grand Line, turned into distorted lines of light and foam. She seriously considered using her fruit to create extra arms just so she wouldn't be thrown backwards.
It wasn't a speedboat.
It was a missile.
Jason... just smiled, the wind blowing against his open shirt, making the fabric dance as if it were alive.
He pressed a single button on the dashboard. Instantly, the speedboat reduced its vibrations, corrected its angle, and began to cut through the waves as if gliding over glass. Even at over 250 mph, it remained steady, stable, almost silent.
"You can take off your seatbelt, but don't leave the cabin unless you want to fly off the boat."
Jason said this casually, as if dealing with absurd speeds was no big deal.
"We'll be in Baltigo in thirty minutes."
Robin glanced at him carefully. If Jason wasn't wearing a seatbelt... then it was probably safe.
She buckled her own seatbelt, stood up, and strangely, her body didn't sway at all. The cabin seemed motionless, as if it were isolated from the sea itself.
Curious, she returned her gaze to the strange, shiny buttons on the panel, each with shapes and functions she couldn't even imagine.
"Want to learn how to fly this? I can teach you."
Jason's voice came from behind her, very close.
The warm breath on her ear made Robin feel an involuntary shiver run down her spine. Her body reacted before she could think: she took a small leap away from him, with a slightly surprised expression.
"…That won't be necessary."
Jason just smiled, delighted by the reaction, and raised one of his hands. A ring on his finger sparkled subtly.
In less than the blink of an eye, there was a table set in the cabin. An expensive wine, unquestionably luxurious in appearance, along with well-served dishes, fresh fruit, perfectly grilled meat, aromatic breads... everything there as if it had always been part of the environment.
Robin stared at the table for a few seconds.
Then she stared at Jason.
She opened her mouth, clearly to ask how, and closed it again.
After everything she had seen from him so far... it would be a waste of energy.
Her stomach answered for her, letting out a discreet but audible growl.
The archaeologist looked away, embarrassed.
Jason laughed softly and quietly as he prepared a plate for her. He didn't comment on the sound, and for some reason, that relieved Robin.
"How about some lunch? You've hardly eaten anything today."
She sat down. Jason poured the wine as if it were a ritual he was accustomed to performing. When he pulled up the chair next to her to sit down, Robin realized that... curiously... she was relaxed.
Jason started the conversation. But he didn't ask about her past; he knew that wasn't the way to go.
He asked about:
ancient languages
genealogy of ancient texts
theories about lost civilizations
myths that predate the Lost Century
ruins that Robin dreamed of visiting.
Robin, at first, responded in a short, elegant, controlled manner.
But Jason knew how to strike up a conversation.
He knew how to ask intelligent questions.
He knew how to listen.
And when she realized it...
She was already talking.
Really talking.
Jason followed everything naturally, reacting to her explanations with genuine interest, as if her knowledge were the most precious thing on the table.
It was a conversation that could have lasted for hours. Days.
And Robin, even without admitting it, was enjoying it.
==
Everything remained chaotic in Impel Down.
All levels, from 1 to 6, were in turmoil.
As soon as the ceiling distorted and the screen formed again, each prisoner reacted like an animal set free for a few seconds. Screams, laughter, taunts. The guards, however, froze. They recognized the pattern. They knew who was behind it. And they knew what it meant.
Impel Down was the absolute fortress of the World Government.
Zero outside information.
Zero communication.
Zero interference.
So why did a giant screen appear whenever Jason wanted it to?
The answer was brutal.
Jason wasn't broadcasting anything.
Jason was sending a message.
And the message was simple:
"You don't control anything. I do."
When the screen lit up again, everyone understood that it wasn't just a hostile act. It was public, symbolic, and political humiliation.
Jason didn't just spit in the face of the World Government.
He stepped on it.
He dragged it across the floor.
And he called everyone a bitch.
No guard could turn off the screen.
No assistant director could neutralize it.
No Haki effect worked.
Kairoseki generated no interference.
The most dangerous Akumas no Mi struck and disappeared as if they had hit a logia.
It was a phenomenon that could not be touched, and it terrified the jailers.
For the prisoners of Level 6, it was the greatest joy they had experienced in decades. They laughed and banged their chains because they knew this was the final proof: the World Government was naked.
The most secure prison on the planet was vulnerable in front of them.
And all because of one man.
Jason made the World Government feel:
• weak
• useless
• exposed
• subordinate
• desperate
• out of control
For an organization that has reigned for 800 years, this is not an affront.
It is a declared sentence.
For Magellan, a man who lived by order, discipline, and absolute control, this was the greatest humiliation possible.
Jason's screens were not just an affront. They were an attack on the authority of the director of Impel Down.
And worse, they were beginning to have an effect.
Prisoners who had previously been quiet, hopeless, and completely broken by the prison routine... now found courage. All it took was for the screen on the ceiling to light up for some idiots to decide to test their limits, yell, bang on the bars, or try to start small riots.
Magellan's response was simple: poison.
Fast, deadly, and efficient.
The first time it worked.
The second time too.
But Magellan was fully aware of the problem:
If he continued to compensate for the chaos created by Jason with executions, Impel Down would become a prison without prisoners.
And then the world government would demand explanations.
Not out of pity, but because Jason was humiliating them too much, and Impel Down needed to exist as a symbol of power.
That was Jason's real coup:
He didn't need to invade the prison. Just appearing on the big screen was enough to make the government's most feared structure tremble.
Magellan felt his jaw lock.
Cold sweat mixed with the smell of his own venom.
The psychological atmosphere of the place was crumbling... and he knew it.
When his irritation was at its peak, his stomach finally gave that characteristic rumble, the fatal warning that his digestive problems wanted immediate attention.
But before he could run to the bathroom, a guard appeared in a panic.
"Director Magellan! The pirate Monkey D. Luffy... he's inside Impel Down! He's causing trouble!"
For a moment, Magellan simply blinked.
Luffy? Here?
"How did that scum get in...?"
The memory came back quickly: he had seen Kuma eliminating the Straw Hat and his crew in Sabaody.
"Kuma sent him here...?"
A Shichibukai actually doing his job, what a miracle.
Magellan let out a heavy sigh.
"Next time, he should warn me before sending trash into my prison. I can't waste time hunting down pirates transported without warning. Impel Down runs on organization, not surprises."
He cracked his neck, poison bubbling around him.
And with Luffy inside...
And Jason in control...
And prisoners gathering their courage...
Magellan knew exactly what was going to happen.
Absolute chaos was coming.