Tap… Tap…

  Footsteps echoed through the royal pace.

  In a massive room, a t figure—han six or seveers tall and covered in bandages—y on a hospital bed, receiving an IV infusion.

  “Mamamama! Oka, how’s your recoing?”

  Linlin, walking beside El, asked with a smile.

  Cyril Oka.

  Like Francis Bangi of the Longarm Tribe, he was one of the prisoners El had freed from Level 6 of Impel Down, the Eternal Hell.

  But uhe others, Oka beloo aremely rare and unique race—the Bueer Tribe.

  His strength was exceptional, on par with Ian the Blood Warden, the former head of Impel Down.

  Moreover, he ure hand-to-hand bat specialist.

  Once a fearsome and infamous pirate, Oka had been personally subdued a decade ago by Admiral "Iron Cw" Hark and imprisoned in the depths of the great uer prison.

  Hark, a user of the A Zoan Velociraptor Form, had already awakened his abilities, leading to a brutal and intetle.

  The enter had left Oka’s body covered in horrifying scars—so gruesome they could make anyone’s scalp tingle.

  “Chichichi~ Thanks to Dr. Kureha, I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been…”

  The t figure turned his head, revealing a scarred, terrifying face. Baring his teeth, he added, “Plus, with the Mythical Zoan ability you gave me, El, I believe it won’t be long before I fully recover—and even surpass my prime!”

  Oka exuded fidence. Once fully healed, his formidable Mythical Zoan abilities would allow him to surpass his former self.

  If he were to face Admiral Iron Cw Hark again, he wasn’t sure he would lose this time.

  “After all, they went to great lengths to restrain someone as strong and powerful as you—a member of the Bueer Tribe,” El remarked.

  “They pierced your cvicles to cripple you and subjected you to years of brutal torture iernal Hell, where your body was malnourished and stantly abused. It’s remarkable you’ve survived until now…

  One has to admit, the Bueer Tribe’s stitution is truly extraordinary!”

  Nef, who had apahem, stepped forward to examine Oka and said with a light chuckle, “Your recovery is astonishingly fast. You probably stop the IV now a up to stretch ys!”

  Under normal circumstances, a powerful individual would least a year or two to fully recover.

  But the Bueer Tribe’s unique physique, coupled with their extraordinary physical resilience, enabled a far faster recovery.

  Even with the enhanced healing provided by his newly acquired Mythical Zoan ability, the process would have taken far longer without such a robust stitution.

  “That’s great! I’ve been itg to move!”

  Cyril Oka grinned broadly, his excitement palpable.

  Looking at the scars on his arms, his eyes gleamed with ferocity as he growled, “Too bad, El, you’ve already dealt with Iron Cw Hark. Otherwise, I’d love to tear that guy’s head off myself!”

  His disfigurement and suffering were ehanks to Admiral Iron Cw.

  As an awakened user of an A Zoan ability, Hark’s razor-sharp, scythe-like cws bined with his terrifying speed had been overwhelming.

  But Oka khat back then, he had been too young and inexperienced.

  Given more time, he was fident that Iron Cw Hark would not have been his match.

  “Then why not hold onto that hatred and use it as fuel to grow stronger?”

  El crossed his arms and spoke bluntly. “After all, whether it’s the Lunarians, the Bueer Tribe, or the Three-Eye Tribe, all of us have been persecuted to the brink of extin.

  Even now, the surviving members of our unique races are relentlessly hunted.

  The true culprits behind this are her than the Wover and those so-called Celestial Dragons who see themselves as gods."

  Cyril Oka, who had just turned 39 this year, was brimming with untapped potential.

  Had he not been imprisoned in Impel Down, wasting ten precious years, his strength might already rival that of a Marine Admiral.

  As a member of the Bueer Tribe, he shared a simir fate with the Lunarians, relentlessly persecuted and hunted by the Wover for being different.

  When El extended his invitation, Cyril did not hesitate long before joining.

  Had things turned out differently, Cyril, as a Bueer tribesman, would likely have bee a test subject for the Wover’s giantification experiments.

  After all, the Bueer Tribe was rumored to possess the bloodline of giants.

  However, they differed from half-giants, having lifespans parable tur humans.

  Not only were they rge and incredibly strong, but they also possessed a unique racial talent known only to their tribe.

  For turies, the Wover, obsessed with replig the power of giants and perfeg its giantification experiments, would almost certainly have seen Cyril as a valuable "test subject."

  “You’re absolutely right. Those bastards in the Wover ever be fiven!”

  Cyril Oka ched his fists, gritting his teeth as he growled, “If we, the remnants of these uribes, unite, we could strike terror into the hearts of those self-procimed gods!”

  Now, armed with the rare powers of a Mythical Zoan ability, he was fident he could grow even stronger in a short time.

  When the moment came, he inteo give the Wover a big surprise—and ensure a few Celestial Dragons wouldn’t live to see the day.

  “Guji~~~Guji~~~ So this is the fabled Bueer Tribe?”

  Francis Bangi stroked his , his tone filled with curiosity.

  Standing over three meters tall and boasting a massive build himself, Bangi had always sidered himself quite imposing.

  But pared to Cyril, who stood six or seveers tall and exuded an intimidating aura like that of a small giant, Bangi suddenly felt dwarfed.

  As he studied the scarred, beast-like figure before him, he couldn’t help but marvel: “Your size is truly astonishing. Tell me, do you really have giant blood in you?

  I never imagined someone like you was imprisoned iernal Hell. I had no idea!”

  “Whether or not the Bueer Tribe has the blood of giants, I ’t say for sure…” Cyril Oka replied indifferently.

  “But our people are generally rge and far strohan most.”

  Hiss—

  As Nef removed his IV, Cyril couldn’t wait to stand and stretch his limbs.

  However, he immediately straihe wounds on his cvicles, hissing in pain and sug in a sharp breath.

  “Don’t overdo it,” Nef cautioned.

  “Your wounds haven’t fully healed yet.”

  “Mamamama, I might have a way to help you recover even faster!”

  Linlin

  chuckled mischievously.

  Bleam