More than half a month later, in the depths of the North Blue's treacherous waters.
A yellow submarine cut through the dark currents beneath the ocean's surface, its hull gleaming dully in the filtered light that penetrated the depths. The Heart Pirates' vessel, the Polar Tang, maintained its steady course while remaining completely invisible to any surface surveillance.
In the submarine's cramped cockpit, Trafalgar Law sat hunched over the latest newspaper, his tattooed fingers gripping the pages with barely contained tension. The surgical cap that covered his dark hair cast shadows across his features, but couldn't hide the calculating intelligence that burned in his grey eyes.
"Even Basil Hawkins was robbed..." Law murmured, his voice carrying the analytical detachment that marked his approach to all strategic intelligence.
The newspaper's headlines screamed with sensational language that barely concealed the horrifying reality beneath. The Hawkins Pirates, one of the North Blue's most formidable organizations, had been systematically dismantled by the Hell Pirates in what sources described as a completely one-sided encounter. Only a handful of survivors, including their captain, had managed to "escape from the tiger's mouth" with their lives intact.
For someone of Law's tactical intelligence, the implications were deeply disturbing.
Hawkins possessed both the supernatural abilities and stubborn pride that made surrender almost inconceivable under normal circumstances. The magician's reputation had been built through countless confrontations where he'd refused to yield even when facing overwhelming odds. His devil fruit powers and mystical insights had carried the Hawkins Pirates through situations that should have resulted in their complete annihilation.
Yet here was evidence that they had capitulated without achieving meaningful resistance against their attackers.
"What the hell are the Hell Pirates trying to accomplish?" Law continued his analysis, leaning back in his chair as he contemplated the broader strategic picture. "Total domination of the North Blue?"
The question carried weight that transcended simple curiosity. As another rising star among the region's criminal organizations, Law understood that the Hell Pirates' systematic expansion represented an existential threat to every independent crew operating in these waters. Their aggressive recruitment and territorial conquest suggested ambitions that extended far beyond conventional piracy.
More troubling was their apparent immunity to the kind of marine interference that typically constrained criminal activities in the Four Blues. The North Blue's complex political landscape and entrenched corruption had always provided opportunities for ambitious pirates, but no organization had ever operated with such brazen disregard for governmental authority.
Law's strategic philosophy emphasized the exact opposite approach, the stronger an individual became, the more crucial it was to maintain a low profile. Excessive attention inevitably attracted responses from forces that even exceptional pirates couldn't hope to withstand. The World Government might tolerate localized criminal activity, but systematic challenges to their authority triggered retaliation that destroyed entire organizations.
"A big tree attracts the wind," he muttered, unconsciously echoing an old saying that had guided his tactical decisions since joining the pirate world.
The Marine's apparent inability to contain the Hell Pirates reflected resource limitations rather than genuine powerlessness. Current commitments throughout the Grand Line's chaotic waters prevented Marine Headquarters from deploying the kind of overwhelming force that could eliminate any Four Blues threat. But such circumstances were temporary, eventually, the Marine would have sufficient breathing room to address problems that had been allowed to fester.
When that moment arrived, the Hell Pirates' meteoric rise would become the very factor that guaranteed their destruction. High-profile criminals attracted high-profile responses, and Oboro had systematically painted his organization as the kind of threat that demanded Admiral-level intervention.
Law's familiarity with Doflamingo's psychology added another layer of confusion to the strategic picture. Recent intelligence suggested that the Hell Pirates had somehow achieved accommodation with the Donquixote Family, an outcome that defied every assumption about the Heavenly Demon's character and operational methods.
Doflamingo simply didn't make concessions to rivals who challenged his authority. His response to territorial violations typically involved overwhelming retaliation designed to serve as warnings to anyone else harboring similar ambitions. Yet credible sources indicated that active hostilities between the two organizations had ceased entirely.
"The captain must possess extraordinary capabilities to make Joker back down," Law reasoned, his analytical mind working through the implications. "But that only makes their current strategy more puzzling. With such skills and intelligence... why maintain such a high profile? The faster they rise, the harder they'll fall when the Marine finally responds."
He glanced at the newspaper's dramatic headlines once more, noting the almost religious language that had begun appearing in coverage of the Hell Pirates' activities. Terms like "divine power" and "King of Hell" suggested that their reputation had transcended normal criminal notoriety into something approaching mythological status.
Such psychological warfare was undeniably effective for intimidating opponents and attracting followers, but it also guaranteed that their organization would become the Marine's primary target once resources became available for comprehensive suppression operations.
"None of this concerns me directly," Law concluded with forced detachment, though his continued analysis suggested otherwise.
The Heart Pirates had been preparing for their own transition to the Grand Line for months, carefully timing their departure to maximize survival odds while minimizing unwanted attention. Law's cautious nature demanded thorough preparation for the challenges that awaited beyond Reverse Mountain.
Recent intelligence from various sources indicated that current circumstances provided the optimal window for such a transition. The chaos generated by the Hell Pirates' activities had diverted marine attention throughout the North Blue, while reports from the Grand Line suggested that Marine patrols in the first half had been reduced to address more pressing concerns elsewhere.
If Hawkins had indeed escaped his encounter with the Hell Pirates relatively intact, the magician had probably reached similar conclusions about timing. Multiple Supernova-level crews attempting Grand Line entry simultaneously would further divide marine response capabilities.
"The best opportunity we're likely to get," Law murmured, his decision crystallizing despite his natural inclination toward extended planning.
Clang.
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the submarine's metallic corridors, followed by the distinctive voice of one of his most talkative crew members.
"It's them again!" Penguin complained as he entered the cockpit, his distinctive hat prominently displaying its English lettering. "Why are they in the newspapers every single day? Are there no other pirates worth reporting on in the entire North Blue?"
The navigator's frustration carried genuine annoyance as he leaned over Law's shoulder to scan the latest headlines. During their recent supply run to a populated island, Penguin had been subjected to countless conversations about the Hell Pirates' legendary exploits.
"When I went ashore yesterday for provisions, I overheard several locals discussing them," Penguin continued with obvious exasperation. "They were calling the Hell Pirates' captain a literal god! Apparently, they spent months terrorizing pirates throughout the North Blue, robbing crews, forced recruitment, systematic killing that created region-wide panic."
He paused to adjust his hat before delivering the most intriguing intelligence he'd gathered.
"But recently, their behavior has completely changed. Instead of coercion and theft, they're supposedly granting 'divine power' to other pirate organizations voluntarily. Multiple crews have reportedly received supernatural abilities from this 'King of Hell' character, and they're no longer demanding payment or forced allegiance. It's like they transformed from ruthless predators into benevolent benefactors overnight."
Penguin scratched his chin thoughtfully, his expression reflecting the confusion that had consumed their recent discussions about regional politics.
"Captain, this 'divine power' they keep mentioning has to be Devil Fruit abilities, right? But if that's the case, why use such mystical terminology? And more importantly, Devil Fruits are incredibly rare and valuable. How could anyone accumulate enough to distribute them casually? Is there something wrong with this guy's brain? Giving away Devil Fruits like party favors makes no economic sense whatsoever."
"I'm starting to doubt whether any of these reports are actually true," he concluded with obvious skepticism.
"Hey, Captain, what do you think about, "
"Don't bother me," Law interrupted with mild irritation, raising the newspaper to cover his face while settling deeper into his chair. "I'm tired and need to rest."
"Yes, sir!" Penguin responded with an enthusiastic salute, completely oblivious to his captain's growing annoyance with his chatter. He turned and departed with the cheerful energy that marked all his interactions.
"Devil Fruits... impossible," Law whispered once privacy had been restored.
The newspaper slipped from his features as he contemplated the psychological transformation that Penguin had described. Within months, the Hell Pirates had evolved from the "man-eating tigers" that terrorized every pirate in the North Blue into benevolent "gods" whose favor was actively sought by criminals desperate for enhanced power.
The strategic implications were staggering. If the reports contained even partial truth, the Hell Pirates were systematically elevating the baseline capabilities of every criminal organization operating in these waters. Enhanced pirates would inevitably create enhanced chaos, while the average threat level throughout the region would escalate beyond anything the Marine was equipped to handle.
"But there's no such thing as a free lunch," Law concluded with the cynicism that had kept him alive throughout his turbulent career.
Whatever methods the Hell Pirates used to enhance other pirates, such gifts would carry corresponding obligations. Knovody distributed power without expecting something valuable in return, the question was what price they demanded from their beneficiaries.
Such concerns, however, remained academic for the Heart Pirates. Their submarine capabilities and careful operational security had kept them completely separate from the Hell Pirates' sphere of influence. Law intended to maintain that distance until they were safely beyond the North Blue's increasingly dangerous waters.
Meanwhile, at Marine Headquarters in Marineford, the fortress that served as the Marine's beating heart experienced a level of tension that hadn't been felt since the outbreak of the Great Pirate Era.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku had summoned every available headquarters officer for an emergency meeting that would reshape their understanding of current strategic priorities. The conference room's traditional Japanese architecture seemed almost peaceful compared to the storm of implications that the gathered intelligence represented.
Senior officers filled both sides of the long table, their postures reflecting the gravity of what they were about to discuss. Some knelt in formal positions, others sat cross-legged with casual comfort, but every face showed the kind of solemn attention that marked career-defining moments.
Sengoku commanded the head of the table with his characteristic authority, his massive frame radiating the accumulated wisdom of decades spent managing impossible situations. To his left sat Chief of Staff Tsuru, her analytical mind already processing tactical options with the efficiency that had made her indispensable to Marine operations. Admiral Akainu occupied the position to Sengoku's right, his volcanic presence adding weight to every decision that would emerge from this gathering.
The absence of Admirals Aokiji and Kizaru spoke to the Marine's overextended commitments throughout the world's oceans, while Vice Admiral Garp's continued operations in the New World reflected the ongoing crises that demanded constant attention from their most experienced officers.
Sengoku rose from his seat with deliberate ceremony, approaching the wall where dozens of photographs, reports, and intelligence summaries had been arranged in careful order. The display represented months of accumulated evidence about a threat that had evolved far beyond their initial assessments.
"I assume you already understand what today's discussion will address," Sengoku began, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority as he surveyed the assembled officers. "The God Slayer... has revealed himself once again."
The simple statement sent visible tension through the room. Every person present understood the implications of that name, the only individual in recorded history who had successfully assassinated a Celestial Dragon and escaped the consequences. The Marine's failure to capture or eliminate him represented one of their most devastating institutional embarrassments.
"He's established himself in the North Blue under a new identity, commanding what may be the most dangerous criminal organization to emerge in decades," Sengoku continued, his analytical tone masking the fury that such developments generated.
With precise timing, his hand struck the wall and pressed against Oboro's wanted poster, the image that had haunted Marine intelligence networks for over a year.
"The Hell Pirates," Sengoku declared with grim finality. "What should our response be? I want to hear every perspective before we commit to any course of action."
The silence that followed carried the weight of decisions that would determine not just their operational priorities, but the Marine's reputation for competence in the face of unprecedented challenges.
Every officer in the room understood that their next moves would echo throughout the maritime world, determining whether the God Slayer's legend would continue growing or finally come to its long-overdue end.