"You're remarkably perceptive."
Oboro's greeting carried genuine admiration as he studied the magician standing before him. Despite the overwhelming tactical disadvantage, the Hawkins Pirates faced certain annihilation in any prolonged engagement, Basil Hawkins maintained an aura of calculated composure that suggested hidden knowledge.
The scene around them told the story of their inevitable defeat. Debris littered the deck where the Hell Pirates had systematically dismantled their defenses, while injured crew members struggled to remain conscious under the weight of their injuries. Yet Hawkins himself seemed utterly convinced that his organization would somehow survive this encounter.
Moreover, his earlier warning about the Hell Pirates potentially becoming public enemies carried disturbing accuracy. In this era of maritime chaos, pirates represented the largest demographic group across the world's oceans. But their individualistic nature prevented the kind of coordinated response that might threaten a truly powerful crew, unless someone provided sufficient motivation for unprecedented cooperation.
Hawkins had clearly anticipated this exact scenario, perhaps even running detailed simulations of their eventual confrontation through whatever supernatural abilities he possessed.
"Is this the result of your divination?" Oboro inquired, launching himself from the mast platform with casual grace.
The assembled pirates watched in stunned silence as he walked through empty air, each step carrying him forward without any visible means of support. Advanced techniques from multiple realities had granted him capabilities that defied this world's normal understanding of human limitation.
He descended in a controlled arc before landing silently on the Hawkins Pirates' deck, positioning himself directly in front of their captain.
"I've heard impressive things about your fortune-telling abilities," Oboro continued, his tone carrying the casual interest of someone discussing academic theory rather than life-and-death stakes. "Perhaps you'd be willing to demonstrate? Divine my fate... my future path." His smile held predatory calculation beneath its surface politeness. "As compensation for such entertainment, I'll allow your crew to depart unharmed."
"Why should I trust your word?" Hawkins asked, though his body language betrayed the primal fear that Oboro's proximity generated.
Every biological instinct screamed warnings about the seemingly ordinary gentleman standing before him. Beneath the refined appearance and civilized mannerisms lurked something monstrous, a predator that could devour him without conscious effort. The malevolent aura radiating from Oboro's form felt like standing at the edge of an abyss that gazed back with hungry anticipation.
"Because you understand that alternatives don't exist," Oboro replied with gentle reasonableness.
Hawkins swallowed hard, his throat working against the tension that threatened to overwhelm his carefully maintained composure. The situation demanded absolute focus if he hoped to navigate their crew through this crisis alive. His supernatural abilities had shown him glimpses of a possible survival path, but actualizing that potential required precise execution under impossible pressure.
When Oboro made his unexpected request, Hawkins recognized the critical turning point that his earlier divinations had predicted, the narrow window of opportunity that might allow the Hawkins Pirates to escape complete destruction.
"Before we proceed," Oboro added with casual interest, "perhaps you could perform another reading? What are the odds that your crew will leave this encounter alive?"
Hawkins nodded slowly, grateful for any chance to buy time while gathering information about their opponent's true intentions. He retrieved his divination cards with practiced efficiency, settling into a cross-legged position as his Devil Fruit powers manifested the supporting infrastructure required for accurate readings.
Straw-like appendages emerged from the blood-stained deck planking, their movements precise and deliberate as they arranged his mystical implements according to established patterns. The cards themselves seemed to pulse with supernatural energy as he shuffled them with expert care.
After completing the ritual preparations, Hawkins drew the first card and studied its surface with professional concentration. The image that appeared showed a dark silhouette on the verge of escaping from what appeared to be a tunnel or cave system, with brilliant light visible ahead, the classic symbolism of survival against overwhelming odds.
"We will survive this encounter," he announced with quiet confidence, meeting Oboro's gaze directly. "The probability exceeds eighty percent."
He had learned through harsh experience that attempting deception against opponents of this caliber proved universally futile. Honesty represented his only viable strategy for earning the trust necessary to navigate their current crisis.
"Fascinating..."
Oboro's eyes narrowed with genuine interest as he contemplated the implications of Hawkins' supernatural insight. Then, without warning or visible gesture, the card in the magician's fingers began crumpling under invisible pressure, crushed by forces that operated beyond normal understanding.
Hawkins stared in shock as his divination tool fell to the deck in a compressed ball. In all his years of practicing fortune-telling, he had never witnessed external interference with the mystical forces that governed his readings. The cards were supposed to reflect immutable fate rather than malleable possibilities.
"Check again," Oboro suggested with predatory amusement.
With trembling fingers, Hawkins retrieved the damaged card and carefully unfolded its surface. The original image remained largely intact, but the supernatural pressure had created a crease that ran directly across the figure's neck, separating head from body in a way that completely altered the card's meaning. More disturbingly, the light source that had represented hope and escape had been compressed out of existence entirely.
"And now?" Oboro prompted.
"Survival probability..." Hawkins whispered, his pupils contracting to pinpoints as he absorbed the transformed symbolism. "Zero percent."
The demonstration revealed capabilities that transcended his understanding of how destiny and supernatural forces operated. Oboro had somehow influenced the fundamental mechanisms that governed fate itself, transforming certain survival into inevitable death through direct manipulation of cosmic principles.
"Since you anticipated our eventual meeting," Oboro continued conversationally, "I assume you've already attempted to divine information about me personally?"
Hawkins closed his eyes and nodded reluctantly. "Yes."
"What did those readings reveal?"
"Chaos," Hawkins replied after a moment's hesitation. "The most enigmatic combination possible, multiple cards fused into patterns that defy interpretation."
This revelation explained his prolonged anxiety during their voyage to this confrontation. Traditional divination relied on clear symbolic communication from supernatural forces that governed mortal destiny. But Oboro's readings had produced an unprecedented fusion of mystical elements that created meaning beyond conventional understanding.
"Excellent," Oboro murmured with satisfaction. "Now perform another reading, this time with me physically present to enhance your supernatural connection."
Hawkins shuffled his cards again, this time drawing upon the enhanced mystical resonance that proximity to his subject provided. The increased power should have generated readings of unprecedented clarity and accuracy, revealing hidden truths about Oboro's nature and intentions.
Instead, something impossible occurred.
As Hawkins attempted to attach the first card to his manifested straw supports, the mystical infrastructure simply refused to function. The card fell directly to the deck without any supernatural resistance, as if the forces that normally governed his abilities had suddenly ceased to exist.
Multiple attempts produced identical results. His Devil Fruit powers remained fully operational, but the specific aspect that connected him to cosmic destiny had been completely severed.
"It appears my suspicions were correct," Oboro observed with philosophical interest, watching Hawkins struggle with techniques that had never failed before. "This confirms something important about my current nature."
The implications became clear through systematic analysis. Hawkins could successfully divine the Hell Pirates' survival odds because the organization included multiple members whose fates remained bound to this reality's governing principles. Dom, Yuri, Dolan, and their recent recruits all operated within the normal framework of destiny and supernatural influence.
But Oboro himself existed outside those cosmic constraints. His soul had transcended the boundaries that normally contained mortal existence, granting him agency that operated independent of fate's influence. When he decided to spare the Hawkins Pirates, their survival became guaranteed. When he chose destruction, death became inevitable.
The readings failed because there was nothing to divine, Oboro's actions emerged from pure personal will rather than predetermined cosmic patterns.
Hawkins reached the same conclusion through his own analytical process. As someone who had dedicated his life to understanding supernatural forces and mystical connections, he could recognize when those fundamental principles had been disrupted. The man standing before him operated according to rules that transcended normal reality.
"You may leave," Oboro announced, turning away to signal the end of their confrontation. "But abandon anything of value before departure."
Relief flooded through Hawkins as he realized they had somehow survived an encounter that should have ended in total annihilation. Yet Oboro's next words brought a different kind of tension.
"Before you go..." Oboro paused as if suddenly remembering an important detail, causing every member of the Hawkins Pirates to tense with renewed anxiety. "You have considerable potential that's currently being wasted. Take your crew to the Grand Line and create some genuine chaos."
Hawkins felt a moment of confusion at the unexpected encouragement, but before he could respond, Oboro made a subtle gesture that triggered an explosive surge of foreign knowledge directly into his consciousness.
Experience card activation.
The sudden influx of combat techniques, tactical awareness, and strategic thinking hit him like a physical blow. Decades of theoretical experience compressed into moments of overwhelming sensory input, teaching him lessons about warfare and survival that would have required years of life-and-death encounters to develop naturally.
When the mental storm subsided, Hawkins found himself changed in fundamental ways. His understanding of combat had expanded exponentially, his reaction times had improved dramatically, and his ability to analyze opponents had reached levels that bordered on supernatural intuition.
The gift represented more than simple generosity. Oboro needed the emerging Supernova generation to create sufficient chaos and distraction to prevent the World Government from focusing their entire attention on the Hell Pirates. Stronger individual threats would force the Marines to divide their resources across multiple fronts rather than concentrating everything against a single target.
Hawkins was already formidable enough to survive encounters with most of the Hell Pirates' rank-and-file members. With this enhanced experience, he would pose genuine challenges to opponents who had previously outclassed him entirely. More importantly, his crew's survival odds had improved dramatically for the trials that awaited them in the Grand Line's supernatural waters.
As one of the Worst Generation's most promising prospects, Hawkins possessed the fundamental capabilities needed to reach the apex of pirate achievement. What he had lacked was the practical experience that only years of constant warfare could provide. The experience card had condensed that learning process into instantaneous understanding.
"Captain's orders are absolute," Oboro declared, signaling his crew to begin their systematic plundering of the Hawkins Pirates' vessel.
Dom, Yuri, Dolan, and the recent recruits immediately swarmed across the enemy ship like professional raiders, stripping anything of monetary value with ruthless efficiency. Their behavior resembled bandits more than traditional pirates, but the Hell Pirates had never pretended to operate according to conventional maritime customs.
Dolan couldn't suppress his resentment as he watched their captain spare yet another potentially valuable recruit. His expression suggested confusion about why Oboro consistently refused to expand their organization through forced recruitment of capable opponents.
"Strange," remarked Yingge, the androgynous swordsman whose appearance had initially confused gender identification. "I expected the captain to offer you membership in our crew. Your abilities would complement our current roster quite effectively."
Hawkins studied the man who had spoken, someone whose reputation throughout the North Blue preceded him by months. Swordsman Yingge had once commanded his own pirate organization before joining Oboro's crew, and their previous encounters had established him as a legitimately dangerous opponent.
The Red Oriole Pirates had been a significant presence in these waters before their captain's mysterious transformation and subsequent allegiance to the Hell Pirates. Hawkins remembered their brutal confrontation from his early days as a pirate captain, a fight that had nearly ended his career before it truly began.
But Yingge's current appearance suggested modifications that transcended normal human enhancement. The flame-wreathed blade he now wielded had not existed during their previous battle, and the dark veins visible beneath his skin resembled the kind of supernatural corruption that spoke to deals with forces beyond mortal understanding.
"Indeed," Yingge continued, his voice carrying notes of predatory amusement as he studied Hawkins' exhausted condition. "Perhaps we'll have the opportunity to settle our old rivalry in the Grand Line's more challenging waters."
With that ominous promise, he turned and departed to assist with the systematic looting of their vessel.
"We'll see each other again on the Grand Line," Hawkins called after the retreating Hell Pirates, his voice carrying newfound confidence that emerged from his dramatically enhanced capabilities.
The experience card had transformed him from a promising rookie into a genuinely formidable opponent, someone who could stand toe-to-toe with the monsters that ruled the world's most dangerous waters. When their paths crossed again, the power dynamic would be very different indeed.