Chapter 1
Gamble
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, own One Piece.
In the depths of Impel Down, below the deepest prison chamber known as the Cold Hell, lays the legendary floor unknown to the surface of the world where the vilest of all criminals are being kept, erased from the face of the earth along with their history and of the name they once bear.
Gossips and rumors that floats around the people around the entire world says that the most sadistic and bloodthirsty man in the world and a woman who sees massacring countries and creating wars as a form of sport are being kept locked in on this very floor.
And just like all prisoners, they are subjected to their personal tortures.
Torture that is so painful that one should have a high tolerance of pain and clear thinking just to survive its first wave. Tortures that are made to break the unbreakable. Tortures that are made to destroy even the soul of their prisoners.
Tortures that are meant to break the evil.
But even if none of the outside world truly knew it, and even if most of the Marines are ignorant or silent about it, the fact remains that the late Pirate King's son is still alive, running through the blood of a man who's dwelling and is being broken deep within the walls of Impel Down.
"Get me out of here you damned, stupid, good-for-nothing dogs!" The boy thrashed as he looked around the dark room, his wild eyes imitating the beasts found in his hometown as he did his best to intimidate and threaten the men around him.
But the guards, who were used to such reaction, remained as stoic and as passive as they had been. Besides, they've seen worse criminals. And it wasn't as if these prisoners could do anything to help themselves escape.
Because these prisoners. They were as good as dead.
"Man! This boy really got Gol's tongue!" a huge man laughed from his prison cell, his bloody red eyes eyeing the boy with amusement.
"Oh~ho~ho~ho~! This young lad got some guts, reminds me of my old days," a man with no teeth at all said, his falcon-like gaze never leaving the eyes of the youngest prisoner. Oh, how he adored such wild eyes.
"There really isn't any doubt that this kid is the son of good ol' Gold alright! Their punky attitude is just too funny to forget!" a crone-like woman with bloody-soaked hair said before releasing her unnerving laughter.
"Shut up! All of you stupid men! Shut up!" the young child yelled, irritated at the fact that the other inmates were being so noisy and are talking about him.
"And what will you do if we do not?" the huge man asked as he lowered his voice to scare the young child.
"I don't know! What the hell can I do except shout at you to shut the hell up?!" the brave soul yelled, which earned him the collective laughter of every men, including the prison guards residing on the isolated level.
"This kid here is going to be the death of me, I tell you all that!" the huge man said in between his laughter before he began to cough up his own blood.
"Things are getting better and better alright! And I really do think that it is nice of our shitty Government to give us some form of entertainment," another of the prisoners said as he, too, coughed up his own blood.
"Yup! And when I thought I'd die from boredom, you really are a hero young man," another prisoner said, his voice filled with humor but at the same time, doing his best to stay up.
"Hey kid! If I ever escaped this hellhole, would you consider joining me in my quest of destroying every men in existence?" the woman with bloody hair asked as she stared into the darkness that covered her line of sight.
"Lady. Lady. Lady." The huge man said as he shook his head. "You should never give the kid some kind of false hope. The torture here is so great I actually am impressed by them but I am not sure how long he'd be able to survive that before the Great Escape occurs."
"I'll give him about a day or two," a prisoner chimed.
"Make it three days," another added.
"I think he'd last up to five," an old man said.
"Nah. I think he won't even last a day. By night, he'll be dead." A brutal one stated.
All these nonsense talking angered the young boy. How dare they say that he'll die in this place? How dare they dictate his very own life span.
How dare they decide for him?!
"Shut the fuck up you damned old, rotten men!" he yelled as he began to thrash once more.
"Listen to me! I will live and I will escape this stinking pile of shit, you hear me?! I will outlive all of you and—and!" the young boy yelled, ignoring the blood that gushed from his teeth.
"I will be the Pirate King!" and when the eyes of the boy dilated, all the prison guards fell down on the cold floor with their mouths being filled by their own saliva.
"You've got quite the willpower in you, don't you, kid?" the man who was struggling to keep his consciousness said before he finally surrendered to the peace that the darkness and the Netherworld offered him.
Too bad he cannot see the man become the Pirate King any longer
And just as he promised, the young boy lasted far longer than what the most dangerous men in Impel Down could ever imagine. In fact, he outlasted most, if not all, of the prisoners who came in and died in.
He was there, watching the huge man named Sadista die. He was there and he heard his last cries, his crazed laughter and what seemed like choking before he finally died.
He listened to the screams of pain and agony of the old crone as an imp-like creature skinned her, night after night until in ended.
And the young boy never felt remorse or sadness over the death of his fellow prisoners. Instead, the young boy felt an odd feeling of satisfaction, knowing that he accomplished what he said and truly outlasted the people who called him weak, managing to prove himself.
Likewise, Luffy was able to toughen himself up in this place people call hellhole.
He was able to strengthen and improve his abilities, his mind, his pain tolerance and his body.
And the happiest part of it was that these bastards don't know that they are aiding him. They are helping him escape, building him into a person who can destroy their so-called indestructible facility.
Soon, he will be able to just that.
Soon, he will be able to destroy Impel Down.
How long has it been since he began his training in this hell hole?
A month?
It was probably longer than that.
A year…?
No, maybe a little bit more.
A few years…?
Yes, that could be quite accurate.
The young, 'punk-like' child was already in his teens, and had adapted to the life in the Isolated Hell for being born as the child of his 'father', a person he never even met.
But despite growing in a torture palace where one mistake could lead to one's demise, he still grew.
He grew and learned things that are vital for one's survival.
He learned the secrets of Impel Down, the facts that he should never talk to others and be comfortable with other prisoners. The fact that things such as mercy will only hinder his chance of survival and that a man should look after himself and his men before others.
He learned how to play with his emotions, and how to increase his power by using it.
He learned that one should and must fight in order to live, because the fighter will and shall live and the weak deserves nothing but death, something that Mother Nature decreed even before humans existed.
But it wasn't simple.
Living and surviving in Impel Down is not a simple task that could shape everyone.
Rest is something he never tasted in Impel Down.
Not in his sleep. Not even in the most dormant hours.
The young boy cannot stop thinking about the next tortures he must endure to strengthen himself, what kind of protection he must use and how he can stop himself from breaking down and giving into their demands.
Tortures which shake his thinking, his philosophy, his beliefs, his ideals and even his very own…
Identity.
'Swim. Swim. Swim.' He kept on thinking, pushing his limits to a test.
Swim or be eaten. Swim or die. Swim or waste his life by being fish food. Swim or regret that you weren't able to live a life of freedom.
He was gambling all he had left in him so he has to swim. Swim. He trained long for this. He trained long to outmatch and outswim these oversized fishes who wants a taste of human flesh.
He trained long to fight off the calmed seas which made his body heavier for some odd reasons.
He lived his entire life for this one moment. For this one chance of escape.
The sacrifices of his allies would be put to vain if he dies right now.
All his promises would be broken.
He can't die.
Not right now!
'Roar!' he heard a powerful roar emitted by a differently shaped Sea King which appeared out of nowhere.
'An island?' the boy thought as he laid on the fine sands beneath him, ignoring the pain in his arms as he stared at the light blue, cloudless skies above him.
A genuine smile was plastered upon his face as the feeling of euphoria sets it.
'I did it, I'm free,' he thought as he felt himself losing grip of reality.
Should he let go now? He managed to do his promise, correct? He managed to free himself and he'd die as a free man, just as he wished.
Besides, what's the point of doing his best to survive if he cannot even lift a finger, if his muscles ached just by trying to move them, and that he was in what seemed like an isolated island in the middle of the Calm Belt?
What's the point of attempting to save himself if it'll be put in vain?
Wait.
No.
What the hell was he thinking?!
He needs to save himself.
He can't die here.
He wasn't fully and truly free yet.
He just can't die here.
But-but he's dying! And fast!
And the reality finally hit him. He's human. And even if he was tortured inside Impel Down and may have one of the most powerful endurance there was, just a bite from the mighty Sea Kings is enough to send him to his visit to hell…or wherever his soul may go to.
"Who is she?" a woman whispered in curiosity.
"Save…me…"
Everybody was surprised.
He never could've thought of having the ability to speak any longer. He thought he lost those ability years ago.
The women never heard of such deep voice. It was always high pitched.
"Please…save me…"
"Who are you?" there was another woman, but the young boy couldn't look at her. Or at anyone at that, not because he cannot move his head, but his eyes were blurry, the salt water doing and showing its true powers.
"My name is…"
Should he say it? No, he can't. Because maybe they'll know—or maybe they won't. No, they'll surely have some idea about who he was.
However, he does need their help.
"Luffy."
And with just that simple decision of saying his name, of gambling his identity and even his life, a new era is born.
Edited: 7/20/2013 Special thanks to