Chapter 346: Strategic Maneuvering in the Chaos

The Navy's search and clearing operation struck the Sabaody Archipelago with unprecedented force, bringing the lawless zones to their knees within hours. What had begun as routine patrols escalated into a full-scale military operation that sent shockwaves through every criminal hideout on the island.

Word spread like wildfire through the underground networks: A Celestial Dragon's slave had escaped.

That single piece of information was enough to explain everything. When those two words—Celestial Dragons—entered any conversation, the stakes immediately became life or death. Everyone understood the implications with crystal clarity. This wasn't just another manhunt; this was a matter that could summon an Admiral to personally oversee the operation.

The response was swift and brutal. Pirate crews scattered like startled birds, some managing to slip away in the chaos while others found themselves cornered by Navy forces and dragged away in shackles. The lucky ones had ships ready and crews prepared for rapid departure. The unlucky became casualties of circumstance, their dreams of reaching the New World crushed beneath the iron heel of justice.

Dom led Oboro and the surviving members of their recruitment group through winding back alleys and forgotten passages, his intimate knowledge of the archipelago's geography proving invaluable. Despite being born on these islands, even he seemed shaken by the scale of the Navy's response.

"I've never seen them mobilize like this," he muttered, pressing his back against a building wall as a patrol marched past their hiding spot. "Not even when Supernova crews start territory wars."

The lawless zone had always maintained an unspoken equilibrium with the Navy. Criminal activity was tolerated within certain boundaries, and major operations were rare enough that most pirates felt relatively secure conducting business here. That fragile peace had been shattered overnight.

For twenty-four hours straight, they played a deadly game of cat and mouse through the urban maze. Dom's local expertise kept them one step ahead of the search teams, but close calls became increasingly frequent. Twice they'd been forced to double back when their intended route proved compromised. Once, they'd hidden in a garbage bin for three hours while Navy soldiers conducted a thorough sweep of the surrounding area.

The illegal zones encompassed areas 1 through 29 of the numbered groves, representing a significant portion of the archipelago's total landmass. Even with reinforcements called in from Marineford, the Navy lacked sufficient manpower for a complete carpet search of such a vast area. Their strategy relied on cordoning off key locations and methodically clearing one section at a time.

Areas 10 and above formed the core of criminal activity—dense urban sprawl where underground organizations had deep roots and extensive infrastructure. Areas approaching 20 bordered the coastline where most pirate vessels docked, making them natural chokepoints for anyone attempting escape. Beyond that lay the tourist and commercial districts, including the hotel quarter occupying groves 70 through 79.

Dom had guided them to one of these transitional zones, seeking shelter in a small establishment whose owner apparently owed him personal favors. The cramped room above a noodle shop provided temporary sanctuary, but everyone could feel the net tightening around them.

"They've found this area too," announced the pirate standing watch at the window. His voice carried the resigned tone of someone watching their options disappear one by one.

Through the grimy glass, uniformed Navy soldiers could be seen conducting methodical house-to-house searches along the street. Their approach in the hotel district was more measured than the aggressive raids in the lawless zones—they knocked politely and presented official warrants before entering—but the result would be identical if they discovered unwanted guests.

The hotel quarter maintained an atmosphere of nervous calm that somehow felt more oppressive than outright chaos. Civilians had been advised to remain indoors, transforming normally bustling streets into eerily quiet corridors. Shop owners peered anxiously through shuttered windows while children's voices had fallen silent.

"At this rate, they'll reach us within the hour," observed another crew member, his hands shaking as he tried unsuccessfully to light a cigarette. The trademark arrogance he'd displayed during their recruitment pitch had evaporated completely, replaced by raw terror at the prospect of capture.

Prison sentences were one thing—most pirates accepted that risk as part of their chosen profession. But depending on the charges, they could find themselves shipped to Impel Down, the underwater fortress where the World Government housed its most dangerous criminals. Stories of that place haunted every pirate's nightmares.

"Damn it all!" exploded the man with the musket, his frustration boiling over. "All this chaos over one escaped slave? The Navy's lost their minds! Are they planning to bury every pirate on the island for the sake of one missing person?"

His outburst earned nervous glances from his companions, but none disagreed with the sentiment. The scale of the response seemed disproportionate, even accounting for Celestial Dragon involvement.

"Dom, what's our move?" asked another crew member, his voice tight with barely controlled panic.

All eyes turned to the yellow-haired local, hoping his familiarity with the archipelago might provide salvation. Dom had proven resourceful so far, but even he looked uncertain about their prospects.

Meanwhile, another pirate clutched a Den Den Mushi that had been ringing intermittently for hours without response. Captain Bornans and the main crew remained completely unreachable, leaving them to wonder whether their leader had already fled the archipelago or fallen into Navy hands. The possibility that they'd been deliberately abandoned weighed heavily on everyone's mind.

"Maybe..." one voice suggested hesitantly, "we should consider surrendering? If we turn ourselves in voluntarily, they might—"

"Are you insane?" Dom snapped. "The moment they run our names through their database, we'll be charged with every unsolved crime in our previous territories. Surrender means Impel Down for sure."

Silence fell over the group as that grim reality sank in. They were trapped between the certainty of brutal punishment and the slim hope of somehow escaping an island crawling with Navy forces.

It was then that Oboro, who had been leaning quietly against the wall observing their panic, decided to speak up.

"Perhaps we should go back," he said calmly.

The suggestion hit the room like a thunderbolt. Several pirates stared at him as if he'd lost his mind completely.

"Go back where?" Dom demanded. "To the lawless zone? That's suicide!"

"On the contrary," Oboro replied with unshakeable composure. "Sometimes the most dangerous place becomes the safest refuge. Think about it logically—in peaceful neighborhoods like this, we're constantly exposed. Every civilian we encounter becomes a potential informant. Every shopkeeper, every child playing in the street could report our presence to the authorities."

He gestured toward the window where Navy patrols continued their methodical advance. "But in the lawless zones? There, we don't need to hide our identities. We can move openly among people who share our circumstances. More importantly, those areas exist for a reason. If the Navy possessed complete authority over the Sabaody Archipelago, would criminal organizations still operate so brazenly under their noses?"

The pirates exchanged uncertain glances, clearly torn between fear and curiosity about his reasoning.

Oboro continued, pressing his advantage. "I may be new to piracy, but I've heard rumors about certain... influential figures maintaining business interests on this island. If memory serves, doesn't one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea have operations here?"

The reaction was immediate and electric. Every person in the room sat up straighter at the mention of that legendary title.

"The Seven Warlords..." Dom breathed, his eyes widening with sudden understanding.

"Doflamingo," someone whispered, as if speaking the name too loudly might summon the man himself.

Dom's face transformed as pieces clicked into place in his mind. He slapped his knee with renewed energy, the first positive emotion any of them had shown in hours.

"The auction!" he exclaimed. "How could I forget? The annual auction is happening right now!"

He turned to address the group with mounting excitement. "Every year, the biggest auction house on the island hosts a massive event. It's supposedly backed by Doflamingo himself—you know, the Heavenly Demon, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea."

For locals like Dom, this information was common knowledge, but outsiders might not understand the full implications.

"That's why the Celestial Dragons came to Sabaody in the first place," he continued. "They always attend the auction to browse for... exotic acquisitions. Slaves, rare Devil Fruits, ancient artifacts—anything that catches their fancy. There are even rumors that Doflamingo specifically caters to their tastes as a way of maintaining political connections."

The room fell silent as everyone processed this revelation. The timing couldn't be coincidental—the presence of Celestial Dragons on the island was directly linked to this auction, which meant...

"We infiltrate the auction house," Dom said slowly, working through the implications. "It's a public event, technically open to anyone with sufficient funds. Pirates attend all the time, either as buyers or sellers."

The plan was audacious in its simplicity. By positioning themselves under Doflamingo's protection—even as uninvited guests—they could potentially use his reputation as a shield against Navy interference.

But the strategy carried enormous risks. What if Doflamingo decided to cooperate with the Navy's investigation? What if the Warlord chose to curry favor with the Celestial Dragons by personally capturing escaped criminals? They had no way of predicting how the notorious "Joker" might react to uninvited visitors.

Oboro watched their internal debate with patient amusement before offering his own analysis. "Consider Doflamingo's priorities," he said. "This auction represents his most important annual event. He's undoubtedly invested tremendous resources in publicity, security, and logistics. The last thing he wants is Navy interference disrupting his carefully planned festivities."

He leaned forward slightly, his scarred features adding gravity to his words. "Initially, he might cooperate with official investigations to maintain good relations with the World Government. But if Navy operations continue interfering with his business? If the auction faces delays or complications that cost him money and reputation? His patience will wear thin quickly."

The pirates hung on every word, drawn in by the logical progression of his argument.

"More importantly," Oboro continued, "consider the Celestial Dragons themselves. They came here specifically to participate in this auction. They're probably already irritated by the security delays and commotion. The Navy might be determined to recover their escaped slave, but they absolutely cannot afford to antagonize their ultimate masters."

He smiled slightly, a expression that somehow managed to be both reassuring and predatory. "If we can survive long enough, the Celestial Dragons themselves will likely pressure the Navy to suspend operations until after the auction concludes. They want their entertainment, and they're not accustomed to having their desires delayed for any reason."

"Our window of opportunity lies within that timeframe," he concluded. "While the Navy's attention is divided between the manhunt and appeasing their superiors, we use the chaos to escape the archipelago entirely."

The analysis was so thorough and logical that it left the entire room speechless. These seasoned pirates found themselves staring at their newest member with a mixture of awe and suspicion.

Dom narrowed his eyes, studying Oboro's face with new intensity. "You really weren't a pirate before joining us?"

Oboro's smile widened slightly, revealing just a hint of the dangerous intelligence lurking beneath his humble facade. "I wasn't before today. But aren't I part of the Flame Dragon Pirates now?"

The question hung in the air, carrying implications that would take time to fully understand. Whatever this man's background, whatever experiences had shaped his strategic thinking, one thing was becoming clear: they'd recruited someone far more valuable than they'd initially realized.

As Navy footsteps echoed in the street below, the pirates found themselves faced with a choice between conventional caution and an audacious gamble that might be their only hope of survival.

The game was about to begin in earnest.