Sunlight streamed in through the venue's entrance.
Bathed in that light, several figures in distinctive attire walked in together.
"Hm? Hasn't it started yet?"
"Let's get this over with quickly so we can leave… I have no desire to share space with such common filth."
"Should we have them all thrown out?"
"I heard there are some decent specimens among the slaves today… Don't even think about trying to outbid me."
Their voices preceded them even before they had taken their seats.
More than one Celestial Dragon had arrived.
Leading the group was none other than Saint Charlos.
The arrogance in their words instantly plunged the atmosphere in the hall to an oppressive low.
Of course, this pressure was only felt by everyone else. As far as the Celestial Dragons were concerned, nothing was amiss.
They sauntered casually down the central aisle of the viewing stands, moving with sluggish, entitled grace as they took their places in the most prestigious seats.
Fortunately, the lighting in the hall was dim, concealing the expressions of the onlookers.
Now that the Celestial Dragons were seated, Disco dared not delay. After a flurry of fawning greetings and praise, he signaled for the auction to continue.
Spotlights swept across the stage as a line of slaves was led out from behind the heavy curtains.
Among them were notorious criminals from Impel Down, as well as pirates who had recently made names for themselves across the Grand Line…
Oboro also recognized members of two races he was familiar with: a Mink and a Fish‑man.
Seeing a female Fish‑man captured wasn't surprising. As long as they were somewhat attractive, Fish‑women were always in high demand in the slave market.
The presence of a Mink, however, was a little more unexpected.
Yet Oboro's attention wasn't fixed on the slaves. Instead, he was focused on probing the aura and energy signatures outside the building.
He needed to confirm whether a Marine Admiral was present.
His ears twitched, and his nostrils flared slightly… gathering information through hearing, smell, and other heightened senses to assess the military readiness outside.
At the same time, his powerful mental perception painted a picture in his mind, mapping out the soul wavelengths within a certain radius — acting much like radar, marking the position and intensity of every living being nearby.
"No Marine Admirals here!"
Oboro narrowed his eyes… and smiled.
It seemed the Will of the World truly struggled to directly manipulate individuals or force events in certain ways.
To the Celestial Dragons and the Marines, the only notable thing to happen on Sabaody recently was that one slave had escaped.
It was embarrassing, certainly, but hardly a threat. As for the robbery at the auction… while it had caused a massive uproar in the lawless districts, to those in power, it wasn't even worth their attention.
The one losing sleep over it was Doflamingo, not the Marines.
The only reason the Marines were even slightly concerned was the rumor that the mysterious thief was actually the runaway slave belonging to the Celestial Dragons.
But that was just a small fry… a nobody. Hardly a threat.
Easily recaptured, easily dealt with.
After all, throughout history and deep‑rooted tradition, no one had ever dared to raise a hand against a Celestial Dragon.
"Fifty million Berries."
The lazy, drawling voice from the VIP seats cut through Oboro's thoughts.
Someone in the crowd had taken a liking to one of the slaves and placed a bid, but the moment the Celestial Dragon spoke up, that person fell instantly silent.
Even though the price hadn't reached its limit yet, no one dared to provoke or compete with them.
As a result, what should have been the most exciting part of the auction turned incredibly dull.
Wave after wave of slaves were brought out. If a Celestial Dragon set their sights on them, there were no other bidders…
The goods were simply "acquired" at absurdly low prices. They were essentially here to clean out the inventory.
Priceless, rare individuals were practically given away for pennies.
Doflamingo utilized this kind of "official transaction process" to make the "cooperation" between the two parties seem legitimate and natural.
After several rounds, everyone else in the room had barely acquired anything.
Meanwhile, Disco heaped praise upon the noble Celestial Dragons — commenting on their "exquisite taste" and "generosity" — while proudly guaranteeing that the purchased goods would be delivered directly to Mary Geoise immediately.
As for the slaves who had been bought, they all shared the exact same expression: sheer, paralyzing terror.
Oboro hadn't struck yet. He was waiting… ensuring no variables or surprises remained, confirming beyond doubt that no Admiral was lurking nearby.
When Saint Charlos — busy picking his nose — finally called out a price for the Mink slave, Oboro raised his hand and shattered the silence in the hall.
"One hundred million Berries!"
Disco had already begun to lower the gavel. Hearing a counter‑bid, he instantly perked up. "One hundred million Berries! This guest bids one hundred million! Do I hear any more?!"
No matter how noble their status, they still had to follow the rules — at least on paper. The formalities had to be observed.
"Two hundred million Berries!"
Saint Charlos glanced in Oboro's direction, looking displeased, though not yet enraged.
"One billion Berries!"
Oboro responded with a yawn.
"O… One billion Berries??!!"
A high‑pitched shriek echoed through the microphone. Disco stood frozen on stage, utterly stunned and disbelieving. His jaw nearly hit the floor.
"That's right. One billion Berries."
Oboro repeated casually.
He didn't have the money anyway… he was just bidding for the fun of it.
Saint Charlos had wanted to buy the Mink to give to his younger sister, Shalria, who sat beside him. He had expected everything to go as smoothly as before.
He never imagined that, for the very last slave, some low‑life commoner would actually dare to compete with him!
Oboro sat comfortably with his legs crossed. Suddenly, footsteps approached from behind.
Face dark with fury, Saint Charlos stood up slowly and pulled out his familiar pistol…
While the other Celestial Dragons watched with expressions of amusement and anticipation, he walked straight toward Oboro.
It felt like history repeating itself. Saint Charlos stopped right next to Oboro, pressing the cold muzzle of the gun against him.
His finger rested on the trigger.
"You brainless piece of trash… One billion Berries?? Even if you had that kind of money, you wouldn't live long enough to spend it!" Saint Charlos bared his large teeth in a grin. He tilted his chin high, looking down at the figure whose features were obscured by shadow and dye.
His voice was incredibly arrogant, foolish, and smug.
"Now… I'll give you one chance. Get on your knees… and lick my shoes clean."
As he spoke, he naturally lifted his foot.
The surrounding "audience" watched closely, instinctively holding their breath.
Truth be told, none of them expected the plot to turn out like this.
No one believed there was actually someone crazy enough to enrage a Celestial Dragon.
Some thought Oboro was finished — even if he wasn't shot, he would likely be taken away as a slave or tortured on the spot.
Others waited to see how Oboro would manage to escape this predicament.
"Tch… For an idiot with zero brains, you've survived a long time… This world really is far too lenient," Oboro said.
Faced with the gun pointed at him again, he remained perfectly calm. He even leaned back comfortably, resting his head against the back of the chair, staring directly into Saint Charlos' eyes.
"Huh?"
The dim‑witted Saint froze. He realized… this voice… sounded familiar.
"You…"
"We parted ways only a few days ago… and you've already forgotten me?"
Oboro raised an eyebrow.
Slowly, from the contours of Oboro's face beneath the paint and disguise, Saint Charlos finally recognized him.
"AHHH!!"
He let out a sharp cry of shock.
"What are you dawdling for? Just kill him already!" came the shrill voice of Shalria from behind.
They were all waiting to see Saint Charlos pull the trigger and eliminate this insolent nuisance.
"He…!"
Something ridiculous happened. Saint Charlos — snot bubbling from his nose — completely failed to comprehend the danger.
Spurred on by his sister, he turned his head away to try and explain exactly who Oboro was to the others.
In his mind, it was inconceivable that he could ever be attacked or harmed by any living being that wasn't also a Celestial Dragon.
No matter the situation, he was the one who decided life and death.
There were never exceptions.
The instant Saint Charlos turned his head… Oboro erupted like an enraged lion.
Killing Saint Charlos was, to him, no different than crushing an ant.
However, something happened that even Oboro hadn't anticipated.
Just as he was about to finish off the Celestial Dragon, two figures suddenly leaped out from the left and right sides of the stands, moving with incredible skill and power.
One swung a blade, aiming to sever Oboro's right hand as it reached for Saint Charlos.
The other closed the distance instantly, raising a sleek, exquisitely crafted silver pistol, aiming it directly at Oboro's temple.
"Hey… what do you think you're doing?"
"If something happens to a Celestial Dragon, none of us will leave here alive."
The gunman stared coldly at Oboro, his voice sharp with warning.
"Are you insane?! Don't drag us down with you!!"
The swordsman opposite him shouted as well.
"Oh right… I almost forgot about that…"
Despite the sudden attacks and interference, Oboro showed no sign of slowing down or retreating.
A look of realization crossed his face.
He had been so focused on the Marines and the Donquixote Family that he had overlooked… how the very existence and influence of the Celestial Dragons constrained and controlled every other group and force around them.
He didn't know if this was the Will of the World meddling again… but it no longer mattered.
"He… must die."
Oboro's voice was completely devoid of emotion or fluctuation.
The absolute determination in his tone made the two powerful men blocking him pale with shock and alarm.
They instantly resolved to execute this madman before harm could befall the Celestial Dragon.
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