The ordinary merchant vessel cut through the North Blue's frigid waters with steady determination, its modest silhouette betraying none of the extraordinary passengers it carried. At the helm, Dolan gripped the wheel with practiced hands, his weathered features focused on the horizon where their destination awaited, the Kingdom of Nodis, one of the North Blue's most prosperous member nations.
Their month-long journey through these treacherous waters had provided invaluable education about the North Blue's unique characteristics. Unlike the other three seas, this ocean's climate leaned decidedly toward the colder end of the spectrum. While temperate and tropical zones existed, they remained rare oases in a maritime environment that seemed perpetually shrouded in grey clouds and bitter winds.
More significantly, the North Blue's reputation as a war-torn hellscape proved entirely accurate. The horizon constantly revealed cargo ships transporting supplies and munitions between conflict zones, their holds packed with the instruments of violence that kept the region's economy churning. These vessels moved with the urgency of merchants who understood that delays meant death, either from rival factions or the pirates who haunted these shipping lanes like sharks scenting blood.
The pirates themselves represented a breed apart from their counterparts in other seas. Where East Blue criminals might content themselves with raiding merchant vessels or extorting protection fees, North Blue pirates operated as sophisticated military contractors. They possessed an almost supernatural ability to detect political instability, converging on troubled kingdoms like carrion birds drawn to fresh battlefields. Rather than simple theft, they offered their services to the highest bidder, mercenary work that paid far better than traditional piracy.
"These aren't just criminals," Dom had observed during their early reconnaissance. "They're war profiteers with flags."
The distinction mattered more than simple semantics. While they might not claim the largest portions of whatever spoils emerged from regional conflicts, the steady income from military contracting allowed North Blue pirate organizations to build sustainable power bases. Some crews had operated continuously for decades, their reputations growing with each successful campaign.
But what truly dominated the North Blue's cultural landscape was the overwhelming influence of the Donquixote Family.
For the current generation of North Blue pirates, Doflamingo had achieved something approaching mythical status. His rise from exiled Celestial Dragon to Shichibukai represented the ultimate success story, proof that even in a world controlled by the World Government, sufficient cunning and ruthlessness could carve out territory beyond official authority. Young pirates spoke his name with reverence typically reserved for legendary figures, while established crews measured their own accomplishments against his impossible standards.
The psychological impact was profound and deliberate. Doflamingo had shaped an entire generation of criminals to view him as the apex predator in their particular ecosystem, a status that discouraged challenges while ensuring a steady stream of willing subordinates.
Oboro found the second major cultural influence equally fascinating, though for different reasons.
"Quite interesting," he murmured, flipping through the weathered comic book in his hands.
The publication bore all the hallmarks of long-term popularity, creased pages, worn edges, and the kind of devoted readership that transcended age demographics. Adults read these stories with the same enthusiasm as children, their eyes lighting up as familiar characters navigated increasingly elaborate adventures.
Sora, Warrior of the Sea represented the Germa 66 Kingdom's most successful cultural export, a serialized adventure that had captured the North Blue's imagination for years. The titular hero's battles against evil organizations resonated with audiences who lived daily with the reality of war and corruption. But the comic's true genius lay in its subtle propaganda value, every story reinforced Germa 66's image as noble warriors fighting for justice, a reputation that provided invaluable political cover for their actual mercenary activities.
The Vinsmoke Family had weaponized entertainment itself, transforming their kingdom's military reputation into something approaching beloved mythology. Where the Donquixote Family ruled through fear and respect, Germa 66 commanded affection and admiration. Both approaches achieved similar results, unquestioned authority within their respective spheres of influence.
"If the Donquixote Family shaped the current generation of North Blue pirates," Oboro reflected, studying the comic's colorful illustrations, "then the name Germa has become the region's ultimate status symbol. Everyone knows it, everyone respects it, and most importantly, everyone fears crossing it."
"Boss," Dom approached from his position at the bow, his wrapped form creating an imposing silhouette against the darkening sky. "After we reach Nodis, what's our next move?"
The question carried weight beyond simple curiosity. Their month in the North Blue had been spent in careful reconnaissance, avoiding attention while gathering intelligence about regional power structures. But observation could only accomplish so much, eventually, they would need to establish their own presence in these contested waters.
Recent news from the East Blue suggested their misdirection strategy had succeeded beyond expectations. The major powers who had converged on those peaceful waters were finally withdrawing, their massive search operations yielding nothing but frustration and wasted resources. The most dramatic incident had involved direct combat between the Big Mom Pirates and Beast Pirates, their territorial dispute escalating until Admiral Aokiji's intervention forced both sides to retreat.
The entire fiasco had cost the World Government tremendous resources while accomplishing nothing beyond demonstrating their inability to capture the most wanted criminals in recent history. For Oboro's purposes, the strategic victory was complete, global attention remained fixated on the wrong ocean while he operated freely in the North Blue's chaotic environment.
"Has the identity documentation been completed?" Oboro asked, raising his eyes from the comic book.
"Yes," Dom confirmed. "The forger delivered everything this morning, merchant credentials, family connections, financial records. Enough background to satisfy even paranoid security checks."
The North Blue's perpetual state of conflict had created a thriving market for false identities. Kingdoms desperate to maintain stability required extensive verification for any outsiders seeking entry, but corruption made such precautions largely symbolic. With sufficient funds, anyone could acquire documentation linking them to established merchant families, noble houses, or commercial enterprises. The key was understanding which forgeries would withstand scrutiny and which would immediately mark their bearers as criminals.
"We'll establish ourselves there temporarily," Oboro decided, closing the comic book with deliberate care. "If I'm correct, the World Government will eventually expand their search to include the North Blue, but the logistics of investigating such a vast region will require months of preparation. That delay provides the breathing room we need."
He turned to study both companions with analytical intensity, his enhanced perception reading their body language and emotional states with supernatural precision.
"More importantly, this interval gives you two the opportunity to grow stronger. Much stronger."
Dolan' hands tightened involuntarily on the ship's wheel, his weathered features betraying surprise that quickly transformed into excitement. After weeks of observing his mysterious captain's impossible abilities, the prospect of receiving similar enhancements sparked dreams of power beyond his wildest imagination.
"I've been observing the North Blue's political dynamics," Oboro continued with the tone of a professor delivering a lecture. "This region represents an ideal environment for generating wealth through warfare. We can also build our reputation much faster by involving ourselves in these conflicts. Doflamingo has already provided the blueprint, we simply need to execute our own version."
Dom's expression grew more thoughtful as he processed the strategic implications. "The North Blue is his territory. Once we begin active operations, he'll definitely view us as competition. Given his personality, I doubt he'll tolerate others claiming pieces of his market. Most of the established powers here operate with Donquixote Family approval, the smaller organizations survive by accepting whatever scraps he allows them."
"Exactly why you need to become stronger," Oboro replied with predatory satisfaction, his scarred features taking on an almost feral cast. "If we want to establish ourselves in these waters, we'll need to challenge the most dangerous opponents first. Otherwise, how can we expect others to respect our authority?"
The logic was brutally sound, if terrifying in its implications. The North Blue's power structure revolved around demonstrated capability, words meant nothing without the strength to enforce them. Any organization seeking to carve out territory would need to defeat established players in direct confrontation, with witnesses who could spread word of their victory throughout the criminal underworld.
Doflamingo himself had built his reputation through exactly such methods, systematically eliminating rivals until his dominance became unquestionable. Now they would need to replicate that process, despite starting from a position of relative weakness.
"I'm going to teach you proper cultivation techniques," Oboro announced, his tone shifting to carry notes of anticipation. "After some intensive training, we'll begin our campaign when the timing is optimal."
"Yes, sir!" Dom responded immediately, though his expression showed confusion about the unexpected approach.
Dolan struggled to hide his disappointment, his dreams of instant power crashing against the reality of required effort. Throughout their journey, he had assumed his captain would simply grant him abilities similar to Dom's transformation, a gift of supernatural capability that would elevate him beyond his previous limitations without demanding personal sacrifice.
The prospect of actual training suggested a more demanding path to power than he had anticipated.
"Disappointed?" Oboro asked with amusement, easily reading the former pirate captain's transparent emotions.
"No, sir," Dolan replied hastily, forcing his features into a servile smile while focusing his attention on steering their vessel. "Not at all."
Oboro's appearance remained unchanged from their Logue Town infiltration, the elegant black suit and gentleman's hat that marked him as either a successful businessman or a sophisticated criminal. Such attire was common enough throughout the North Blue to avoid drawing unwanted attention, blending seamlessly with the region's population of wealthy merchants, mafia representatives, and political operators.
Only someone with exceptional observational skills would recognize the subtle signs that marked him as genuinely dangerous rather than merely prosperous.
Dom had adopted a more dramatic transformation for their North Blue operations. Black bandages wrapped his form from head to toe, covering everything except his facial features and creating the impression of a walking mummy. His slender build enhanced the unsettling effect, making him appear almost insubstantial despite the obvious physical conditioning beneath the wrappings.
The choice reflected practical considerations as much as psychological warfare. Dom's fighting style emphasized speed and flexibility over brute force, requiring freedom of movement that conventional clothing would restrict. The bandages provided protection without limiting his range of motion while creating an intimidating presence that could end confrontations before violence became necessary.
"Strange outfits are common enough in this world," Dom had explained when questioned about the unusual appearance. "Better to look memorable for the right reasons than recognizable for the wrong ones."
Dolan, meanwhile, faced no such complications. The outside world remained ignorant of his existence, allowing him to adopt whatever identity best served their current objectives. For now, he would play the role of ship captain and general logistics coordinator, valuable skills that required no particular disguise.
As evening settled over their small vessel, Dom retreated to the galley to prepare their meal. His culinary abilities remained modest at best, focused on function rather than flavor, but adequate nutrition was all they required during these extended sea voyages. The Kingdom of Nodis remained several hours distant, giving them time to finalize their approach strategies.
While his companions handled their respective duties, Oboro settled into his preferred meditation position within the ship's modest cabin. The external world faded as he turned his attention inward, focusing on the energy circulation techniques that had become second nature during their month in the North Blue.
His enhanced perception revealed the intricate network of blood vessels that carried qi throughout his body, each pulse spreading vital energy to bones, muscles, and organs with clockwork precision. The breathing methods inherited from his time in the Demon Slayer reality had evolved into something approaching perfection, a self-sustaining system that operated continuously regardless of his conscious attention.
Even during sleep, the circulation continued without interruption, gradually strengthening every aspect of his physical form through constant refinement. The qi contained within his blood nourished his tissues, enhancing their durability and power, which in turn generated new qi in an endless cycle of improvement. His only required intervention involved deliberately stressing his musculature beyond normal limits, forcing adaptation that would unlock higher levels of energy generation.
Under careful mental guidance, a strand of internal qi paused at a specific acupuncture point on his shoulder, gradually forming a vortex that drew additional energy from the surrounding circulation. The technique represented an evolution of skills developed during his time as a Demon Slayer, where breath control had determined survival against supernatural opponents.
Each qi vortex became a focal point for enhanced physical capability, concentrating power within specific body regions to create devastating offensive and defensive potential. The stronger these energy concentrations became, the more dramatically they enhanced the associated muscle groups and nerve clusters.
In theory, the process could continue indefinitely, each vortex strengthening the body, which generated more qi, which allowed for additional vortex formation. But practical limitations remained significant. Without constant physical conditioning that pushed his body beyond its current limits, the enhancement would plateau at levels insufficient for his ultimate goals.
Currently, Oboro had managed to establish twenty-three Tonkotsu vortexes across his form, with hundreds of acupuncture points remaining untapped. The path to true mastery, the gasification of his dantian into a sea of concentrated energy, remained distant but achievable through sufficient dedication.
His battle with Lao G had provided crucial intelligence about the physical capabilities possessed by this world's true monsters. The Four Emperors represented the pinnacle of human achievement in the One Piece reality, their bodies capable of feats that transcended normal understanding of biological limitations.
Red-Haired Shanks likely relied more on advanced Haki techniques and swordsmanship than pure physical conditioning, but the other three Emperors possessed the kind of raw bodily power that could reshape geography through direct application. Without comparable enhancement, even his improved techniques would prove inadequate against such overwhelming capability.
The breathing methods and martial arts from his previous reality had been sufficient for most challenges, but the One Piece world's emphasis on physical prowess demanded adaptation. More importantly, this dimension's governing will actively suppressed abilities that originated from foreign realities, limiting his options unless he could develop power sources native to this cosmos.
The cultivation techniques he was developing represented exactly such an adaptation, a fusion of external knowledge with internal energy systems that operated according to this world's physical laws. The qi vortex method could theoretically elevate him to the level of the Four Emperors, given sufficient time and effort.
His journey to the Demon Slayer reality had not been wasted. The breathing techniques learned there provided the foundation for his current capabilities, while the enhanced understanding of internal energy flow allowed for innovations that neither reality could have produced independently.
When Oboro finally opened his eyes, darkness had claimed the ocean around their vessel. Through the cabin's small window, he could see the distant glow of civilization, the Kingdom of Nodis spreading along the coastline like a constellation of artificial stars.
Their destination awaited, along with the opportunities and dangers that would define their future in the North Blue's contested waters.
The next phase of their campaign was about to begin.