The pirate crew now serving as Oboro and Dom's unwilling hosts were called the Dolan Pirates, named after their captain, a man whose weathered features spoke of years of petty crime in the relatively peaceful waters of the East Blue.
Captain Dolan had operated in these seas for the better part of a decade, his crew's activities following the traditional pirate playbook of raiding merchant vessels, extorting protection fees from coastal settlements, and occasionally selling their services to the highest bidder. But unlike the ambitious crews who ventured to the Grand Line in search of glory and treasure, the Dolan pirates had carved out a comfortable niche through careful territorial management and strategic corruption.
Their operating philosophy reflected the unique realities of East Blue piracy. Rather than roaming freely across the ocean in search of opportunity, they maintained fixed patrol routes and established territories that allowed them to avoid conflict with other criminal organizations while maximizing their profit margins. More importantly, this predictable behavior allowed them to develop profitable relationships with corrupt naval officials who found it easier to accept regular bribes than to engage in costly enforcement actions.
The East Blue's reputation as the most peaceful of the four seas wasn't entirely undeserved; the World Government's relatively light oversight meant that local authorities had considerable discretion in how they handled criminal activity. As long as pirate operations remained modest in scale and avoided attracting unwanted attention from naval headquarters, many regional commanders preferred the stability of managed corruption to the chaos of constant warfare.
This "corruption interest chain," as Dolan described it with the casual cynicism of someone who had mastered the system, extended throughout the East Blue's maritime community. Small-time pirates paid protection fees to the naval branches, which in turn submitted reports that portrayed the local criminal situation as well controlled and requiring minimal intervention by higher authorities. Everyone benefited from this arrangement except the civilian population, which bore the cost of systematic extortion.
"The environment here is... different from the Grand Line," Dolan explained with nervous enthusiasm as he steered their appropriated vessel through waters that seemed almost impossibly calm compared to the supernatural chaos they had recently escaped. "We don't have to worry about Sea Kings or impossible weather patterns. The biggest threats are other pirate crews and the occasional Navy patrol actually doing its job."
What particularly intrigued Oboro was the prevalence of banditry on the many islands of the East Blue. The region's stable climate and abundant natural resources had created conditions in which land-based criminal organizations could thrive without the risks and expenses of maritime operations. Some bandit leaders commanded higher bounties than established pirate captains, their reputations built on the systematic exploitation of trade routes and defenseless communities.
"Bandits here can be more dangerous than pirates," Dolan continued, his tone carrying a grudging respect for competitors who had chosen different methods of operation. "They know the terrain intimately, maintain extensive intelligence networks, and can disappear into wilderness areas where ships cannot follow. Some of the most notorious have bounties of over ten million berries."
Oboro found this information truly fascinating. In a world where naval power traditionally dominated the headlines, the East Blue had developed a parallel criminal ecosystem that operated on very different principles. While pirates like himself grabbed international attention with spectacular raids and impossible escapes, these land-based organizations built sustainable criminal empires through patient territorial expansion and systematic exploitation.
Ten million berries was serious money in the East Blue, the kind of bounty that marked someone as a regional power rather than a minor nuisance. For context, Dolan himself commanded only five million berries, putting him in the same category as pirates like Alvida, whose reputation was built more on local intimidation than actual skill.
As they sailed past Glass Bead Island, Oboro decided to do some exploring of his own. The island's reputation as a luxury destination suggested it would provide insight into the East Blue's civilian culture and economic development, information that could prove valuable as he began to establish a presence in these waters.
"Stay with the ship and keep our friends company," Oboro instructed Dom, gesturing to the nervous pirates who were trying very hard not to draw attention to themselves. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."
Glass Bead Island exceeded his expectations of sophistication and wealth. The architecture reminded him of Nordic designs from his former life, all clean lines and practical elegance that spoke of a culture that valued beauty as well as functionality. Well-dressed civilians moved through the wide streets with the poise of people who had never known real hardship, while elaborate shop displays showcased luxury goods that would have seemed absurd in the war-torn areas of the Grand Line.
The famous "Hey Panda" brand turned out to be just as commercial as he'd expected, simple T-shirts with cartoon panda designs that somehow cost tens of thousands of berries each. The fact that he saw numerous customers making such purchases suggested either extraordinary disposable income or the kind of social pressure that drives fashion trends among the wealthy.
Oboro's immediate priority was to acquire appropriate clothing for the challenges ahead. His current attire bore the accumulated damage of their desperate escape from the Sabaody Archipelago, and blending into East Blue society would require a more sophisticated wardrobe. He found a high-end tailor and ordered several black suits tailored to his exact measurements, along with gentleman's hats and half-masks that would allow him to move freely without being recognized.
The system's storage capabilities made shopping remarkably convenient, allowing him to transport his purchases without the burden of carrying physical luggage.
Emerging from the tailor's shop, Oboro noticed a group of rough-looking individuals studying the wanted posters with obvious professional interest. Their clothing and equipment unmistakably identified them as bounty hunters, freelance mercenaries who supplemented their income by capturing criminals for government bounties.
One of the bounty hunters glanced in his direction, studying his expensive suit and refined appearance with a casual assessment before dismissing him as a harmless aristocrat. The disguise worked perfectly, his transformation from scarred fugitive to elegant gentleman so complete that even professional manhunters failed to recognize the East Blue's newest visitor.
Of course, none of them expected the God Slayer to appear in the most peaceful of the four seas. The logical assumption would be that such a notorious figure would seek refuge in the lawless territories of the New World, not venture into waters under the control of the Navy and civilian authorities.
When Oboro returned to the ship, he found the Dolan pirates maintaining nervous discipline under Dom's watchful eye. Their borrowed ship resumed its voyage to the Polaris Islands, where Logue City lay like a jewel of historical significance among the scattered territories of the East Blue.
The voyage provided an opportunity to observe the region's unique marine ecosystem. While Sea Kings remained extremely rare in these waters, the East Blue was home to numerous Sea Beasts, creatures that resembled their legendary cousins but operated on a far more manageable scale. Most could be hunted by conventional pirate crews, their flesh providing valuable protein while their skins and other materials fetched handsome prices in coastal markets.
The contrast with the overwhelming dangers of the Grand Line was remarkable. Here, the ocean itself seemed designed to support human civilization rather than challenge it at every turn.
On the second day of their journey, Oboro discovered a newspaper article that confirmed his tactical assessment of the World Government's response. Several warships had been dispatched to the East Blue under the Admiral's leadership, their massive deployment serving as both a manhunt and a political statement.
"Quick thinking," Oboro muttered with grudging respect for the strategic thinking of his enemies.
The Marine had correctly deduced that his escape route must have involved the Calm Belt, making the East Blue his most logical destination. More importantly, they had realized that his repeated impossible escapes suggested access to transportation beyond conventional understanding.
The implications were sobering. If the World Government had truly understood the extent of his capabilities, they would have taken countermeasures specifically designed to neutralize his advantages. Logue City, as the most strategic location of the East Blue, would certainly receive enhanced defenses.
"How long until we reach Logue City?" Oboro asked Dolan, who had maintained his position of submissive presence with the dedication of one whose survival depended on pleasing his captors.
"About a day, sir," Dolan replied with the same enthusiasm he might have shown when discussing treasure maps with his original crew.
"One day," Oboro repeated thoughtfully. "That's convenient."
Then, without changing his tone, he spoke two words that completely changed the atmosphere: "Let us begin."
Dolan blinked in confusion, unsure of what had just been initiated. But Dom understood immediately, rising from his position and moving with the fluid grace of someone approaching routine work to the nearest group of pirates.
What followed was systematic and efficient. Dom moved through the ship's crew like death itself, his Nichirin blade finding throats and hearts with surgical precision. The enhanced abilities Oboro had given him meant that each life ended before its owner could comprehend what was happening, let alone offer resistance.
Pirates collapsed on the deck and in the cabin, their blood painting abstract patterns on the wooden surfaces. The killing was neither cruel nor merciful, simply necessary, carried out with the professional detachment that marked experienced predators.
Captain Dolan watched the slaughter with growing horror, his face drained of color as he witnessed the systematic elimination of men who had served with him for years. His pupils quivered with shock as the reality of his situation crystallized with brutal clarity.
"Sorry," Oboro said conversationally, his tone suggesting mild regret rather than genuine emotion. "Too many people increases the risk of information leaks. This was the only practical solution. But I appreciate your cooperation over the past few days."
The casual manner in which he spoke of mass murder struck Dolan like a physical blow. During their voyage, the pirate captain had begun to believe that his captors might be more reasonable than their reputation suggested, that survival might be possible through continued service and cooperation.
Now he understood how naive such thinking had been.
From the moment those monsters had boarded his ship, the fate of his crew had been sealed. The only variable had been timing, and that decision had always depended entirely on the convenience of their captors.
"I..." Dolan swallowed hard, his throat working frantically as he struggled to form words that might save his own life.
Oboro's hand fell gently on his head, the gesture carrying a surprising warmth despite the carnage that surrounded them. "Don't be afraid," he said with what could have been genuine kindness. "You're not on the elimination list. After all, neither Dom nor I have any nautical skills. We still need you to get us to Logue Town safely."
He paused, studying Dolan's expression with analytical interest. "More importantly, I need someone who can move freely without attracting the attention of the government. The World Government knows our faces intimately, but you... you're beneath their notice. This anonymity has a value that your former crew could not provide."
"Yes, yes, absolutely!" Dolan burst into tears of relief, kowtowing with a desperate gratitude that made his desperation painfully obvious. "I will serve you faithfully! Whatever you need!"
The transformation was both pitiful and revealing. Surrounded by the bodies of men who had trusted him with their lives, Dolan showed no grief, no anger, no hint of loyalty to his murdered subordinates. His only emotion was gratitude for his own survival, regardless of the price others had paid for his continued existence.
The scene perfectly illustrated the fundamental nature of most pirate alliances, partnerships of convenience that dissolved the moment real pressure was applied. Honor, loyalty, and comradeship were luxuries few criminals could afford when faced with real danger.
What Dolan couldn't see was the subtle difference in how Oboro viewed him compared to Dom. While the transformed pirate had earned true respect through proven skill and unwavering loyalty, the surviving captain was merely a temporary tool, useful until circumstances changed or better options became available.
The coldness in Oboro's eyes as he studied his new subordinate spoke of calculations that extended far beyond their immediate journey to Logue City. Plans were being made that would reshape the East Blue's power structure, and Captain Dolan's role in those plans was both essential and ultimately expendable.
But for now, he remained useful. The ship continued its steady progress toward Logue City, carrying three survivors from very different backgrounds to a destination where legends were born and the course of history could be changed by those bold enough to seize the moment.
The East Blue was about to discover exactly what it meant to harbor the Godkiller, and the ripples of that revelation would eventually reach every corner of the world.