Not far from the auction house, in a secluded alley shrouded by shadows, reality itself seemed to tear open like fabric. A traditional Japanese-style doorway materialized from thin air, its wooden frame and brass fittings completely at odds with the surrounding architecture. From this impossible portal, Oboro emerged with casual elegance, his movements betraying none of the tension that should have accompanied such a brazen theft.
Dom followed close behind, his transformed features pale with nervous energy. The young pirate's enhanced senses remained on high alert, scanning their surroundings for any sign of pursuit while his mind struggled to process what they had just accomplished.
The supernatural doorway had appeared at the exact moment Oboro needed it most, a spatial manipulation ability that had allowed them to escape the auction house without confronting the full might of the Donquixote Family's assembled forces. Dom had witnessed many impossible things since their partnership began, but this display of power operated on a scale that defied his understanding of Devil Fruit abilities.
"How is that even possible?" Dom whispered, his voice barely audible as the dimensional portal dissolved behind them like morning mist.
"A technique I acquired from my previous experiences," Oboro replied with deliberate vagueness, his attention already shifting to their immediate priorities. "Think of it as a modified version of spatial manipulation, similar to Bruno's Door-Door Fruit, but operating on different principles."
The explanation was both accurate and misleading. The ability indeed shared similarities with the CP9 agent's powers, but its true origin lay in the Blood Demon Arts he had observed during his time in the Demon Slayer world. Muzan's mastery over the Infinity Castle had provided the conceptual framework, though its manifestation in the One Piece reality had forced certain adaptations and limitations.
The technique couldn't transport them across vast distances or create permanent gateways between locations. Each portal required significant spiritual energy to maintain, and the exit points were restricted to areas Oboro had personally visited. But for tactical escapes and surprise attacks, it proved devastatingly effective.
Dom's transformation had proven equally valuable during their infiltration. The enhancement cards Oboro had applied to him had elevated his capabilities beyond anything a minor pirate should possess. Strength, speed, reflexes, every physical attribute had been pushed to levels that would command respect even among Grand Line veterans.
"If I had to estimate your current bounty based on pure combat ability," Oboro mused as they walked through the darkened streets, "you'd probably qualify for at least twenty million berries. Possibly more, depending on how creatively you applied your new advantages."
The assessment filled Dom with conflicted emotions. Power had always been his ultimate goal during his pirate career, but achieving it through such supernatural means felt somehow unearned. More troubling was the knowledge that his enhanced capabilities came with strings attached, Oboro had made it clear that what was given could also be reclaimed.
"So what's our next move?" Dom asked, though something in his boss's expression suggested he already knew the answer.
"We're not leaving Sabaody just yet," Oboro said with the casual tone of someone discussing dinner plans rather than their survival strategy.
Dom's enhanced hearing picked up the subtle shift in his companion's breathing patterns, the controlled rhythm that preceded major announcements. His stomach clenched with premonition as he recognized the signs.
"There's still tomorrow's auction to consider," Oboro continued with deceptive mildness. "The slave market. I believe certain distinguished guests will be attending that particular event."
The implications hit Dom like a physical blow. Celestial Dragons. His boss was planning to target the World Nobles themselves, in person, during their moment of greatest public visibility.
"Boss..." Dom's voice cracked with barely controlled panic. "That's not just dangerous, that's guaranteed suicide. Even if we somehow succeeded, the entire World Government would mobilize to hunt us down. There wouldn't be anywhere in the world we could hide."
"Hiding was never part of the plan," Oboro replied with predatory satisfaction. "Fear is a luxury we can no longer afford. The Marine already has our faces, our descriptions, our known associates. Running will only delay the inevitable while giving our enemies time to prepare countermeasures."
He paused, allowing Dom to absorb the brutal logic of their situation.
"We've already crossed the line by robbing the Donquixote Family. Adding more charges to our list won't significantly change our circumstances, but it will send a message that resonates throughout the criminal underworld. Sometimes, the only way forward is to embrace chaos completely."
Dom fell silent, wrestling with emotions he couldn't quite name. The rational part of his mind screamed that following this path meant certain death. But another part, the part that had grown stronger since his transformation, whispered about possibilities that had never existed before his partnership with this mysterious figure.
Throughout his life, Dom had been nobody special. A minor criminal content to follow orders and collect modest shares of equally modest profits. His association with the Flame Dragon Pirates had represented the pinnacle of his ambitions, and even that had marked him as small-time by Grand Line standards.
But now, for the first time, he had access to genuine power. Not just enhanced physical capabilities, but connection to someone whose plans operated on a scale that could reshape the entire world. The question was whether he possessed the courage to embrace such opportunities or whether fear would drive him back to comfortable mediocrity.
"If we're going to do this," Dom said slowly, his voice gaining strength as he spoke, "we need to be smart about it. The security around Celestial Dragons will be overwhelming, Admirals, CP agents, possibly even members of the World Government's secret police."
"Naturally," Oboro agreed with obvious approval. "Which is why we won't be attacking them directly. Sometimes the most effective strategy is to let your enemies destroy themselves through their own arrogance and complacency."
Several hours later, news of the auction house robbery began spreading through Sabaody Archipelago's criminal networks like wildfire.
The initial reports seemed too outrageous to believe. A single individual had somehow infiltrated Doflamingo's most secure venue, stolen a Devil Fruit worth hundreds of millions of berries, and escaped using what witnesses described as supernatural abilities. The sheer audacity of the crime defied conventional understanding.
But as more witnesses came forward with consistent accounts, the impossible gradually became accepted fact. Someone had indeed challenged one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea and lived to tell about it.
Trebol's response was swift and comprehensive. Within hours of the theft, wanted posters bearing Oboro's distinctive scarred features were distributed throughout the lawless zones. But these weren't official Marine bounties, they represented something far more dangerous.
An underground bounty backed by the Donquixote Family's reputation and resources.
The terms were astoundingly generous. Anyone who captured the thief alive would receive the stolen Devil Fruit free and clear, plus an additional one hundred million berries in cash. No questions asked, no consequences for their methods, complete protection from Family retaliation.
For most criminals operating in the first half of the Grand Line, such a sum represented more wealth than they could earn in a lifetime of successful piracy. The offer triggered a gold rush mentality that transformed every street corner into a potential battleground.
Pirates who had been allies for years suddenly viewed each other with suspicion. Bounty hunters emerged from hidden strongholds to join the hunt. Even civilian informants began studying faces in crowds, hoping to spot the distinctive scars that could make them rich beyond their wildest dreams.
The atmosphere in the lawless zones shifted from competitive camaraderie to predatory desperation overnight.
"A hundred million berries," one pirate captain muttered, studying the wanted poster with calculating eyes. "That's more than my entire crew has earned in five years of raiding merchant ships."
"The Devil Fruit alone would be worth that much," his first mate replied with growing excitement. "Add the cash bonus, and we could afford to hire enough mercenaries to challenge a Yonko's territory."
Similar conversations echoed throughout the district as various crews began formulating plans to claim the extraordinary bounty. The prospect of such wealth had a way of making even the most cautious criminals consider extreme risks.
But experienced pirates also recognized the implications behind Trebol's generous offer. The Donquixote Family didn't distribute such sums casually, they wanted to send a message that crossed them at your own peril. The bounty wasn't just about recovering stolen property; it was about maintaining the reputation for invincibility that kept their criminal empire functioning.
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away on the open ocean, a distinctive pink flamingo ship cut through the waves with predatory grace.
The vessel's flamboyant design made it instantly recognizable to anyone familiar with the Grand Line's most notorious figures. Even pirates who had never encountered Doflamingo personally understood what that pink hull and distinctive figurehead represented, power that could reshape the balance of entire regions.
Aboard the ship, the Heavenly Demon himself lounged in his preferred position on the deck, a glass of expensive wine balanced casually in one hand while his other arm rested along the back of an ornate sofa. His signature pink feather coat fluttered in the ocean breeze as he gazed up at the sky with apparent contentment.
Despite his relaxed posture, those familiar with Doflamingo's moods could detect subtle signs of tension in his bearing. The slight tightness around his eyes, the way his free hand occasionally clenched and unclenched, indicators that his legendary temper was being held in check by force of will.
Today's journey to Sabaody Archipelago was supposed to be routine. A ceremonial appearance at his auction house, some strategic networking with Celestial Dragon customers, perhaps a few profitable side deals with criminal organizations seeking his services. The kind of predictable business that kept his organization profitable and politically connected.
The auction's first day had been deliberately low-key. Minor treasures and exotic curiosities designed to warm up the crowd for tomorrow's main event, the slave market that would draw World Knovle attendance and generate the kind of profits that funded his larger ambitions.
Buru buru. Buru buru.
The distinctive sound of a Den Den Mushi interrupted his contemplation. Doflamingo glanced down at the communication device clipped to his coat, its expression already shifting to mirror the caller's emotional state.
"Fufufufu... Trebol," he answered with characteristic amusement, expecting to hear about successful sales figures and enthusiastic customer reactions.
"How much did we make?" he continued with predatory satisfaction. "I'm estimating at least three hundred million from the Devil Fruit alone. Those idiots love bidding wars, especially when they think they're getting a bargain."
But instead of the expected report of financial success, Trebol's voice carried notes of panic that made Doflamingo's smile begin to fade.
"Young Master... our Devil Fruit was stolen."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
"During the auction... someone robbed us."
For several heartbeats, the only sound was the whisper of wind across the ship's rigging and the distant crash of waves against the hull. The communication device faithfully transmitted the nervous breathing on the other end of the line as Trebol waited for his master's response.
The wine glass in Doflamingo's hand exploded without warning, its fragments cutting into his palm while expensive liquid splashed across the deck in patterns that resembled blood. The destruction was so sudden and violent that several nearby crew members instinctively stepped backward, recognizing the signs of their captain's legendary rage building to dangerous levels.
"What... did you say?" Doflamingo's voice had dropped to a whisper that somehow carried more menace than any scream.
His trademark grin had vanished completely, replaced by an expression of cold fury that made the air itself feel heavy with murderous intent. The invisible strings that extended from his fingers began cutting shallow grooves in the deck's wooden planks as his Devil Fruit powers responded to his emotional state.
This wasn't just theft. This was a direct challenge to his authority, delivered in the most public way possible. Hundreds of witnesses had observed his organization being humiliated by a single individual who had walked into his most secure facility and taken whatever he wanted.
In the criminal underworld, reputation was everything. It determined which organizations would submit to your authority, which enemies would think twice before challenging you, which allies would remain loyal when times grew difficult. A reputation for invincibility that had taken decades to build could be shattered in a single moment of perceived weakness.
"Tell me everything," Doflamingo commanded, his voice carrying the deadly calm that preceded his most violent outbursts. "Leave out no details. I want to know exactly how this happened and who was responsible."
Through the Den Den Mushi's connection, he could hear Trebol swallowing nervously before beginning his report. The top executive's usual confidence had evaporated completely, replaced by the kind of fear that came from disappointing someone whose retaliation could be worse than death.
As the details of the robbery began to unfold, Doflamingo's expression grew progressively darker. The thief's supernatural abilities, his casual confidence in the face of overwhelming odds, the theatrical way he had announced his intentions before vanishing into thin air, every element of the crime seemed calculated to inflict maximum humiliation.
This wasn't just about money or power. Someone had deliberately chosen to make the Donquixote Family look foolish in front of hundreds of witnesses from across the Grand Line. The implications would spread through criminal networks like wildfire, potentially undermining everything he had worked to achieve.
"Fufufufu..." Doflamingo's laughter returned, but now it carried notes of genuine malice that made his crew members exchange nervous glances.
When someone challenged the Heavenly Demon's authority so directly, the response would be swift, overwhelming, and absolutely merciless. The unknown thief had just painted a target on his back that would draw the attention of one of the most dangerous individuals in the New World.
The game was escalating beyond anything that had come before, and the stakes had never been higher.
As the pink flamingo ship changed course toward Sabaody Archipelago with increased urgency, Doflamingo began formulating plans that would ensure his next encounter with the mysterious thief would be their last.
The criminal underworld was about to witness exactly why challenging the Seven Warlords of the Sea was considered a death sentence by anyone with functioning survival instincts.
But on a distant island, in a secluded alley where shadows danced with impossible geometry, Oboro was already three steps ahead of whatever retaliation his enemies might plan.
The real game was just beginning.