Chapter 42: Stage Set, Ready for Performance

Oboro remained at the Tenth Don's palace for several days after their meeting, the ornate halls and watchful guards a constant reminder of Brown's power. The Don had insisted on these lengthy discussions, cloaking careful observation under the guise of deepening their relationship. His message was clear beneath the superficial warmth: the Fells family's ambitions were acceptable, but only under his control. Without Brown's blessing, they would never have reached their current position among the underground elite.

Oboro treated these interactions with calculated indifference, his own aura carefully controlled to reveal nothing of his true intentions. With the elimination of the Kenny family, the casino matter was closed, at least in Brown's eyes. Oboro's true purpose was deeper, more complex than mere territorial expansion. Perhaps he wanted to use the power of the Ten Dons to help future hunters, or to study their private powers and their extraordinary Nen abilities. In the end, they were no different than Heaven's Arena, just another stepping stone on his path through this world of hidden powers.

Standing on the palace balcony at night, Oboro swirled a glass of red wine and studied the sprawling grounds below. The cold wind carried hints of the auras of his guardians, their presence evident to his trained senses. "They keep me here to watch me more closely," he murmured, noting the subtle shifts in Nen that betrayed their movements. Their auras revealed professionals, probably trained in Meteor City or similar harsh environments that produced natural Nen users.

Even now, a particularly skilled one lurked in the gardens below, her bloodlust barely contained behind a facade of Zetsu. This one was different, her aura carrying the sharp edge of a natural predator, reminiscent of the Shadow Beasts that would later serve as the Dons' elite guard. Oboro maintained his facade of ignorance perfectly, suppressing his excitement at being treated as prey by such skilled hunters. The world of the Hunters truly contained countless powerful individuals beyond the widely known figures, each domain harboring its own exceptional talents.

The next day, word came that the Ten Dons needed to conduct business on other continents. Oboro's most valuable insight wasn't Brown's transparent warnings, but the confirmation of the Dons' elite Nen users. Each Don commanded his own specialist, and together they formed a force that could rival even the most notorious underground organizations. Their auras spoke of years of combat experience, honed in the brutal underground wars that had established the Dons' dominance.

On the ride back to Cork, Oboro pieced together the underground's power structure. The Ten Dons maintained tight control through their network of Nen users, armed forces, and political connections. The Fells family's apparent power was an illusion; one word from Brown could turn every family in the region against them, unleashing not just ordinary soldiers but squads of trained Nen users who could reduce their headquarters to rubble within hours.

Oboro knew that this system would eventually crumble. During the Dark Continent Expedition years later, after the Zoldycks had eliminated the Dons, the Underground would fragment into countless new factions, each vying for control of the power vacuum. But for now, the Ten Dons maintained their iron grip, their Nen users and intelligence networks preventing any uncontrolled elements from emerging in their territories.

Their system of succession resembled a monarchy, honed over generations of underground rule. If Brown died, another Don would seamlessly take his place, chosen long ago by Oboro and backed by their private army of Nen users and conventional forces. The other nine Dons would ensure a smooth transition, protecting their common interests and eliminating anyone who tried to disrupt the established order. This made the Fells' position precarious and required special measures to succeed.

Overthrowing Brown would require keeping the other Dons neutral, which was nearly impossible, but not entirely. Oboro only needed to sway two or three members, exploiting the cracks in their supposedly unified front. Brown's own words had revealed internal rivalries and old grudges, carefully hidden but perfect for manipulation by someone with Oboro's skills.

"Reaching the top in months seems like a fantasy," Oboro mused, his aura curling thoughtfully around him. He would leave the operation of the headquarters to the management of Lily and David. The women's intuition combined with the butler's efficiency would maintain their facade while he worked behind the scenes. Meanwhile, he could cautiously approach Brown's rivals among the Dons, far from the watchful eyes of their Nen users.

His thoughts turned to Meteor City, whose ties to the Mafia ran deep. Its inhabitants, hardened by survival in the world's largest garbage dump, made perfect soldiers for the families. Their harsh upbringing naturally awakened Nen abilities in many, creating a steady supply of powerful fighters. What began as a protective arrangement had evolved into a lasting cooperation, with the city providing soldiers in exchange for protection from exploitation.

The city's tragic history, in which its people were dehumanized, harvested for organs, and traded like commodities, had shaped organizations like the Phantom Troupe.

The original members of the troupe had simply wanted to tour the world as performers, like the Moritonio Troupe before them. Chrollo dreamed of becoming a voice actor, his natural charisma better suited to the stage than to slaughter. Uvogin wanted to play the greatest villain on stage, not become one in reality. But the suffering of Meteor City turned her into something far darker, and her performance art became the art of theft and murder.

The Fells family had no ties to Meteor City, having built their power through casinos rather than manpower. Two months passed as they played the obedient subordinate, paying tribute and following the Ten Dons' orders. Brown's satisfaction grew, his surveillance gradually loosening as Oboro maintained his reclusive facade, seeming to focus only on legitimate business concerns.

In reality, the Fells family had been secretly negotiating with crime families from other continents since their first meeting with the Ten Dons. Oboro's mastery of Nen allowed him to easily detect and deceive Brown's psychic observers, using a combination of Zetsu and carefully controlled aura to appear harmless. Now, even they had retreated, signaling Brown's growing confidence in his apparent submission.

"Master." David's voice came through the door of the darkened room where Oboro sat cross-legged, his aura flowing in careful meditation. "Enter."

"We have made contact with two of the Ten Dons," David reported, his own aura calm despite the weight of his news. "The others proved too risky to approach. These two have expressed interest in meeting with you, though they emphasized that we would bear any consequences of discovery."

"Two is enough." Oboro smiled, rising slowly as his aura settled into a steady rhythm. The reputation of the Fells family had earned them this opportunity, albeit at considerable cost. "Make the arrangements."

"Yes, sir." David bowed and left, his footsteps silent in the darkened hallway.

"All is coming to an end." Oboro's aura settled around him like a cloak, ready for the challenges ahead. The stage was set for their most dangerous performance yet. Whether anyone witnessed it or not, the show would be magnificent. The time invested would be worth it.