Sabaody Archipelago.
Doflamingo had returned to his base of operations with several key family members, though he'd deliberately left Trebol and Diamante stationed in the North Blue. The precaution was necessary, he couldn't predict what chaos the Hell Pirates might unleash next, and protecting the family's remaining business interests demanded constant vigilance.
When Sengoku's call came through the Den Den Mushi, Doflamingo's characteristic laugh erupted with dark amusement. After exchanging perfunctory pleasantries with the Fleet Admiral, he ended the conversation with casual dismissal.
"Fufufufufu... so you're coming after all?"
He ran his tongue across his lips with predatory satisfaction.
Within the entire Marine hierarchy, Doflamingo feared no one, at least, not in the conventional sense. Marshal Sengoku, Hero Garp, and the three Admirals all represented formidable opponents whose power demanded respect. Provoking any of them would certainly result in severe consequences for his organization. But their strength, while overwhelming, remained comprehensible. If circumstances forced a life-or-death confrontation, he would fight with everything he possessed for the sake of his family's survival.
Moreover, certain political considerations meant these figures couldn't simply eliminate him without cause.
However, there was one individual who inspired something far more complex than simple caution in the Heavenly Demon's calculations.
Marine Chief of Staff Tsuru.
That damned old woman!
In her presence, every thought seemed transparent, every scheme laid bare under her analytical gaze. Her perception bordered on supernatural, she could read intentions and motivations with the same ease that others read newspapers.
Too perceptive... Vice Admiral Tsuru.
Doflamingo had anticipated Sengoku's summons, even waited for it with grim expectation. When he arrived at Marineford, he knew the encounter wouldn't be limited to the Fleet Admiral alone. Chief of Staff Tsuru would be there, dissecting his every word and gesture with those penetrating eyes.
"How troublesome... Fufufu..." He studied his moving fingers with sardonic amusement. "But even if she sees through me, as long as I don't tell her everything... she won't know for certain."
"Some things, even if I explained them... she probably wouldn't believe anyway..."
"Fufufufufu..."
Crimson threads danced between his fingertips, weaving themselves into an intricate spider web no larger than his palm. The transformed filaments gleamed like crystallized blood under the afternoon sunlight, their beauty concealing razor-sharp lethality.
The gift from the God Slayer had fundamentally altered his Devil Fruit capabilities in ways that the Marine's intelligence networks couldn't possibly predict.
Meanwhile, in the North Blue's chaotic waters, the Hell Pirates' influence continued expanding at an unprecedented rate.
The number of trainee crew members aboard their flagship grew daily as more pirates received Oboro's "divine blessing" and evolved into members of the demon tribe. These enhanced individuals represented only a fraction of his actual influence, countless additional pirate crews had encountered the Hell Pirates and received similar transformations for their captains without being forced to join the organization directly.
These independent crews, drunk on their newfound power and convinced they had achieved strength sufficient for Grand Line navigation, rampaged throughout the "rookie paradise" of the North Blue before setting course for Reverse Mountain. The psychological effect was intoxicating, ordinary pirates suddenly possessed capabilities that transcended human limitations, making them feel invincible.
Consequently, the number of North Blue vessels attempting the treacherous journey to the Grand Line had increased exponentially.
The North Blue had effectively become Oboro's evangelical territory, his reputation among the criminal population reaching mythological proportions. Pirates spoke his name with religious reverence, treating him as a genuine deity who granted power to the faithful.
In the name of God himself.
"Any news?" Oboro inquired, opening his eyes as Dom approached his position on the second-floor deck.
"Today, three more pirate crews reached Reverse Mountain," Dom reported with military precision. "However, there's been no communication from any of them since their departure."
"Fufufu... it seems the Marine has stationed considerable forces on the other side," Oboro observed with dark amusement.
"Most likely," Dom agreed grimly. "Recently, only North Blue pirates have been appearing in the Grand Line's first half in significant numbers. They've naturally noticed the pattern. Most crews that attempted the crossing before can no longer be contacted, presumably eliminated. During this period, it's not just us... anyone trying to traverse Reverse Mountain faces increased scrutiny. Pirates from the other three seas are also being affected. Very few can escape marine surveillance now."
Dom paused, seeming to remember additional intelligence. "By the way... Hawkins and his crew made it through safely."
"Good."
Oboro nodded with satisfaction, the outcome had been entirely predictable. Basil Hawkins was a member of the Worst Generation after all, his supernatural abilities providing exactly the kind of advantages necessary for such navigation. His divination powers alone would have warned him about optimal timing and routes.
But the North Blue crisis would make Grand Line entry exponentially more difficult for pirates from the other three seas. The remaining members of the Worst Generation would face challenges that their original timeline had never required them to overcome.
After delivering his report, Dom departed to resume his duties.
Currently, the second floor of their flagship served as exclusive quarters for the organization's elite combat forces. Only thirteen individuals possessed authorization to access this level, their cabins and recreational facilities separated from the masses below. Trainee crew members remained confined to the first floor, maintaining the rigid hierarchy that defined the Hell Pirates' internal structure.
Though they no longer engaged in direct piracy against other crews, funding remained a constant concern. The Hell Pirates maintained their operations through alternative revenue streams: collecting "protection fees" from territories flying their flag, establishing manufacturing facilities in controlled regions, and participating in various conflicts as highly paid military contractors.
The destruction of the North Blue's largest mercenary organization had created a massive void in the regional market. Combined with the chaos generated by Oboro's enhanced pirates, warfare frequency had increased dramatically throughout the area.
The suddenly vacant "cake" of military contracts proved too large for the Hell Pirates to monopolize entirely. Other opportunistic organizations had moved quickly to claim portions of the business they had created through their systematic expansion.
Currently, only one force in the entire North Blue dared to operate without acknowledging the Hell Pirates' authority: the Germa Kingdom.
Germa represented a completely different category of power within the North Blue's political landscape. They existed above the "dining table" where other organizations competed for scraps, giants who disdained association with lesser powers.
Regardless of how dramatically the regional situation shifted, Germa remained unaffected by external pressures. They pursued profit exclusively through warfare, offering their services to the highest bidder without concern for political complications.
They operated as both military organization and sovereign nation, their individual and collective capabilities representing the absolute pinnacle of North Blue power projection.
They hadn't even shown Doflamingo the courtesy of formal respect. But considering their exclusive focus on war profiteering, the core conflict between their interests and the Donquixote Family's operations remained minimal. The situation had ultimately stabilized into mutual disregard.
In Oboro's assessment, Joker simply hadn't dared risk direct confrontation. The mathematics were brutally simple, Germa was a genuine nation-state. Any conflict would escalate to warfare on a national scale, while the Donquixote Family, despite their Shichibukai status and considerable resources, remained essentially "retail investors" in regional politics.
The fleets and forces that Doflamingo could assemble, while formidable, paled beside Germa's professional military machine. Their warriors represented the product of generations of selective breeding and technological enhancement, a gulf in capability that couldn't be bridged through determination alone.
Additionally, Doflamingo's businessman mentality excelled at calculating costs versus benefits. Since no deep hatred existed between the organizations, maintaining neutrality served both parties' interests better than destructive conflict.
As Oboro's influence had expanded throughout the North Blue, his intelligence networks had uncovered the true nature of their relationship. Despite occasional friction, Doflamingo had eventually established business partnerships with Germa, an arrangement perfectly consistent with Joker's opportunistic character.
"Ten candidates."
Retracting his thoughts, Oboro surveyed the individuals scattered across the second deck in various relaxed positions.
Beyond the original core of Yurivich, Dom, and Dolan, ten additional figures had earned promotion through exceptional performance during their expansion period. This elevation marked them as candidates for official Hell Pirates membership, individuals who had demonstrated the potential to transcend their trainee status.
Their qualifications varied: some possessed raw strength that exceeded their peers, others had displayed operational efficiency that impressed their superiors, while a few had shown tactical intelligence that complemented the organization's strategic needs. Each candidate represented the best that the North Blue's criminal population could offer, individuals without obvious weaknesses who had distinguished themselves from hundreds of competitors.
Whether they would successfully transition to official membership depended entirely on their performance during the coming "assessment."
"Over three hundred personnel aboard the flagship now," Oboro calculated mentally. "The low-tier blood cards, experience cards, and equipment cards have been consumed by nearly half... but it's still insufficient. Fortunately, I prepared extensively during the Demon Slayer campaign. With these forces, we're still slightly short of what's needed to break through marine opposition..."
"It's almost time... I need to make contact with Germa."
The decision crystallized in his analytical mind.
Throughout his extended stay in the North Blue, he had deliberately avoided approaching the "Germa Kingdom" because the previous iteration of the Hell Pirates hadn't possessed sufficient importance. Vinsmoke Judge would never have taken them seriously, the old man was notoriously elitist in his dealings, respecting only power that commanded his attention.
Whether the Hell Pirates could successfully transform from ambitious rookies into genuine threats depended largely on Germa's cooperation. Therefore, Oboro had been unwilling to risk premature conflict with Judge's organization.
To be completely honest, he genuinely needed their assistance for his next phase of operations.
Simply put, he required a very specific type of business transaction.
Only Germa possessed the resources and capabilities necessary to provide what he needed.