The Hell Pirates.
Oboro had spent considerable time planning the structure of his future organization during their months of preparation in Nodis. The hierarchy he envisioned drew inspiration from infernal mythology, with core officers bearing titles like Judge, Black and White Impermanence, names that would represent the highest echelons of combat power within the crew. Beneath these elite positions would serve various lesser demons, each contributing their own specialized skills to the greater whole.
The name "Hell" served multiple purposes beyond mere intimidation. It borrowed from underworld concepts that resonated across cultures while complementing his soul-based abilities perfectly. During his time in the Hunter x Hunter reality, he had been known as the King of Hell, a title that carried weight among those who understood the true nature of power. This new organization would embody those same principles on a far grander scale.
Unlike conventional pirate crews who sought Roger's legendary treasure or harbored dreams of claiming the Pirate King's throne, the Hell Pirates existed for a single, burning purpose: to drag the high and mighty Celestial Dragons down into the abyss where they belonged.
Dom understood this mission completely, his loyalty forged through shared trials and enhanced by Oboro's transformative gifts. But Dolan remained ignorant of their true objectives, content to believe they were simply another ambitious crew seeking fortune and glory on the high seas.
The year of intensive training had yielded mixed results among his subordinates. Dom's strength had improved dramatically, though his growth remained constrained by fundamental limitations that no amount of enhancement could completely overcome. Pirates, after all, represented a profession that valued natural talent above all else, and while Oboro could help someone break through their ceiling, he couldn't manufacture genius from nothing.
External strength could be developed through systematic conditioning and proper technique, but true understanding remained dependent on individual capacity. This reality explained why Dom had never risen above officer rank in his previous crew, despite years of experience and genuine dedication.
Oboro had taught him martial arts forms, breathing techniques derived from the Demon Slayer world, and the fundamentals of Haki manipulation. Yet Dom's mastery remained incomplete across all three disciplines. His most obvious improvement lay in raw physical capability, an area where consistent training guaranteed measurable results, and where Oboro's expertise could provide maximum benefit.
The Devil Fruit currently in their possession would remain unused for now. Such powerful artifacts required careful consideration of timing and recipient before being deployed strategically.
Dolan presented an even more challenging case. Despite training alongside Dom, his progress lagged significantly behind his more talented companion. The boxing techniques Oboro had taught him provided a functional foundation, while his demon transformation had enhanced his base capabilities considerably. Experience cards had granted him practical combat knowledge, though Oboro had deliberately withheld skill cards pending further evaluation.
Within the North Blue's violent ecosystem, Dolan could probably be considered formidable, his combat effectiveness likely rivaling pirates with bounties in the tens of millions. But Oboro harbored no illusions about focusing extensive resources on someone whose character displayed such obvious weaknesses.
He simply didn't respect Dolan' fundamental nature.
As for his own development, Oboro had successfully activated roughly half the acupuncture points throughout his body. The resulting surge in physical strength had finally allowed him to fully control Haki, a power system intimately connected to personal will and determination. His soul strength provided overwhelming advantages in this regard, enabling rapid mastery once his bodily foundation reached adequate levels.
The knowledge accumulated across multiple realities had proven invaluable for understanding Haki's deeper principles.
Currently, he could coat his entire body in Armament Haki, though the technique's strength remained somewhat weak and couldn't be maintained for extended periods. He had initially assumed that his accumulated experience from previous worlds would make Haki manipulation effortless, but practical application revealed the system's enormous physical demands.
This discovery provided profound insight into the monsters who dominated the pirate world's apex. Their casual deployment of advanced Haki techniques spoke to conditioning that transcended normal human limitations.
Advanced applications like Ryusakura and Conqueror's Haki remained within his capabilities, but their power, intensity, and effective range fell far short of what true masters could achieve. His soul-based talents had accelerated his development beyond normal progression rates, without such advantages, conventional training would require decades to reach his current level.
The similarities between Haki and Nen had proven helpful for understanding both systems' fundamental mechanics.
Yet all these challenges ultimately centered on a single limitation: his physical vessel. Despite possessing sophisticated enhancement methods and theoretical knowledge that surpassed most inhabitants of this world, Oboro found himself constrained by the simple reality of flesh and blood.
His Qi Refining techniques provided steady improvement, but progress required patience and consistent effort rather than dramatic breakthroughs. Still, he maintained realistic expectations about timeline and achievement. With his current development rate, approximately one more year should produce the qualitative transformation necessary for competing with this world's true monsters.
One interesting discovery during his Haki development was that his particular manifestation appeared black in color. Different personalities and worldviews apparently influenced the elemental nature of one's Haki, a detail that might prove significant in future encounters.
The time for preparation had ended. Now came the moment to return to the seas and begin building the reputation that would shake the foundations of the World Government itself.
Oboro and his companions commissioned a vessel from local shipwrights, making modest modifications to serve as their pirate ship. The craft itself was utilitarian rather than impressive, functionality mattered more than aesthetics for their current needs. They could acquire something more befitting their ambitions once their operations generated sufficient resources.
The Hell Pirates' flag bore a skull seated upon an ornate throne, green flames dancing within the empty eye sockets like captured souls. The throne itself represented a deliberate mockery of the Empty Throne that stood in the Holy Land of Marijoa, a symbol of authority that the Celestial Dragons claimed no one could occupy. Their flag announced to the world that such pretensions would soon be challenged by forces they couldn't control or comprehend.
After departing the Kingdom of Nodis and reaching the designated coastal meeting point, the trio rendezvoused with the merchant who had arranged their vessel's delivery. Oboro conducted a thorough inspection of the hull, checking structural integrity and mechanical systems with the practiced eye of someone who understood the ocean's harsh demands.
"Twenty million Berries, not a single coin less," the merchant declared with obvious satisfaction after watching their examination process.
His calculating gaze studied the well-dressed trio before him, immediately recognizing them as wealthy newcomers preparing for their first maritime venture. Anyone capable of commissioning a ship at this price clearly possessed substantial financial resources, a rarity among beginning pirates, who typically started with whatever vessels they could steal or acquire through violence.
Most criminals took to the seas because circumstances on land had become untenable. The few exceptions included bored nobility seeking adventure or excitement through romanticized notions of piracy. Such individuals often provided excellent opportunities for experienced businessmen who understood how to exploit inexperience and naivety.
These three represented classic targets, obviously wealthy, apparently inexperienced, and lacking any recognizable connections to established power structures. In the North Blue's cutthroat commercial environment, survival required sharp instincts for identifying profitable opportunities.
"The previous deposit was five million, which means we owe you an additional fifteen million Berries," Oboro replied with deliberate neutrality.
"The agreed price was clearly fifteen million total. How did it suddenly increase by five million?" he asked, though his tone suggested he already understood the game being played.
"This vessel required premium materials, and costs have risen dramatically due to recent market fluctuations," the merchant replied smoothly, his friendly demeanor shifting toward cold professionalism. "I should also mention that deposits are non-refundable if payment cannot be completed as agreed."
The threat was delivered with practiced ease, clearly not this man's first attempt at such extortion.
"We have no additional money," Oboro stated calmly, hands resting casually in his coat pockets. "But we still want the ship."
The merchant's confidence never wavered, suggesting he had encountered similar responses before. His relaxed posture indicated careful preparation for this contingency, dozens of armed guards positioned strategically around the dock, all bearing the weathered look of experienced fighters. Dealing with three amateur pirates should present minimal challenge for such overwhelming force.
At least, that was his assumption.
Dom understood immediately, his enhanced reflexes carrying him forward in a blur of motion that transformed his advancing form into a streak of black lightning. The distance between his starting position and the clustered guards vanished in less than three seconds, his passage leaving only displaced air and the whisper of drawn steel.
He materialized behind the armed group, methodically sheathing his Nichirin blade with fluid precision that spoke to countless hours of practice.
The guards remained frozen in their defensive positions, minds struggling to process what their eyes insisted had just occurred. Reality seemed suspended for a crucial heartbeat, then arterial spray painted the dock crimson as each man collapsed in sequence, their severed throats releasing final gasps into the salt air.
The merchant's arrogant expression crystallized into permanent shock as his own life fled through the gaping wound that had appeared across his neck. Death had arrived too quickly for fear or comprehension.
Dom stepped casually over the merchant's cooling corpse, his voice carrying the cold satisfaction of someone who had just demonstrated natural law. "We're pirates," he observed with predatory amusement. "When we want something, we simply take it. Fool."
Dolan released nervous laughter from his position near the ship's gangway, disappointment evident in his tone. The entire confrontation had ended before he could contribute anything meaningful to its resolution.
"Captain, after you," he said with exaggerated deference, gesturing toward the boarding ladder with theatrical flourish.
During their year of preparation, Dolan had witnessed enough of Oboro's capabilities to understand the hierarchy within their organization. But unlike Dom's genuine worship and admiration, his own loyalty stemmed from calculated self-interest. Such a powerful benefactor could guarantee advantages that independent operation could never provide.
For the sake of those benefits, Dolan would perform whatever role circumstances demanded.
Oboro boarded first, followed by his subordinates in order of precedence. Within minutes, their skull-and-throne flag flew proudly from the main mast, green flame eyes seeming to watch the horizon with hungry anticipation.
The vessel slowly gained momentum, carrying the Hell Pirates toward whatever destiny awaited them on the open sea.
"King," Dom ventured as they cleared the harbor's protective breakwater, his formal address acknowledging the new dynamic their flag represented. "What are our immediate objectives?"
On ship, protocol mattered. His captain ruled as the King of Hell, while Dom served as 'Night Walker', one of the ten Yama Kings who would eventually command their organization's elite forces. Even Dolan held official rank as a Hell Messenger, subordinate to the Yama Kings but elevated above common crew members.
These titles would define their identities until circumstances forced revelation of their true nature to the wider world.
"First, we must establish our reputation and ensure that every power on these seas recognizes us as a legitimate threat," Oboro replied, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of blue that stretched toward the horizon. "So we begin by embracing the traditional pirate approach, spreading chaos and fear throughout these waters until our name commands respect."
"Understood, sir."
Dom's response carried the absolute conviction of someone who had found purpose worth dying for. The Hell Pirates were officially born, and their campaign to drag the Celestial Dragons into damnation was about to begin.
Behind them, smoke from the burning docks marked their departure like a funeral pyre for the old world's pretensions of safety and order.