Chapter 356: The Devil's Gamble

"330 million!"

The voice cut through the tension like a blade, followed by a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch across the entire auction hall.

"360 million!"

"370 million!"

The bidding war raged on with savage intensity, each number shouted with the desperation of pirates who understood this might be their only chance at true power. The Devil Fruit sat on its velvet cushion like a crown jewel, its spiral patterns seeming to pulse with otherworldly energy under the stage lights.

As the price climbed steadily toward the 400 million mark, the frenzied voices began to falter. The astronomical sum had separated the wheat from the chaff, only the truly wealthy or utterly desperate remained in the competition.

400 million berries. Even in an era where inflation had driven prices to staggering heights, such a figure represented the kind of wealth that could purchase entire fleets or small kingdoms. The reality of the number hung heavy in the air, causing many pirates to slump back in their seats with the bitter taste of defeat.

"410 million once!"

Disco's voice carried across the hushed venue with theatrical authority, his star-shaped sunglasses reflecting the stage lights as he raised his ornate hammer. The tension was palpable, hundreds of dangerous criminals holding their collective breath as fortune hung in the balance.

"410 million twice!"

From his position in the crowd, Oboro's enhanced perception swept across the successful bidder with analytical precision. The man wore an expensive black suit that screamed government connections, his posture radiating the kind of confidence that came from powerful backing. Definitely not a pirate, more likely a representative from some underground organization or corrupt kingdom official sent to acquire the fruit for his superiors.

The other pirates in the venue fixed the suited man with predatory stares that promised violence. Their bloodshot eyes and clenched fists spoke to barely contained rage at being outbid by someone who hadn't even risked his life to reach Sabaody Archipelago. The resentment was thick enough to cut with a blade.

Yet the man in the suit seemed utterly unperturbed by the murderous attention focused on him. His casual indifference suggested either supreme confidence in his security arrangements or backing from forces that made even these hardened criminals think twice about retaliation.

Disco's hammer hung poised in the air, ready to deliver the final blow that would seal the Devil Fruit's fate. The auctioneer's practiced showmanship built the moment to its dramatic crescendo.

Whoosh.

A shadow erupted from the audience with explosive grace, sailing through the air to land soundlessly on the auction stage. The figure moved with predatory fluidity that spoke to enhanced physical capabilities far beyond normal human parameters.

Every eye in the venue snapped to the unexpected intruder. The stage lights created a dramatic silhouette, a figure in athletic wear with a hood pulled low over his face, standing with casual arrogance directly between the auctioneer and the precious Devil Fruit.

"I want this Devil Fruit."

The words were delivered with quiet authority that cut through the stunned silence like a sword stroke. No bluster, no theatrical posturing, just a simple statement of intent that somehow carried more menace than the loudest threats.

The reaction was immediate and explosive.

"Get the hell out of here!"

"Who the fuck do you think you are?! You think you can just rob us?!"

"Hahaha! This is rich! Kid's got balls, I'll give him that!"

"This moron's trying to steal from one of the Seven Warlords! He's got a death wish!"

"Must be a rookie who doesn't know how the world works!"

"Don't show up if you can't afford to play with the big boys!"

The jeers and catcalls echoed through the venue as pirates alternated between outrage and perverse amusement. Some seemed genuinely offended by the audacity, while others appeared eager to witness whatever bloodbath was about to unfold. The crowd's energy transformed from anticipation to bloodlust in the span of heartbeats.

Disco himself remained remarkably composed despite the unprecedented situation. Years of conducting business under Doflamingo's protection had taught him that very few people in the world possessed either the courage or the stupidity to directly challenge the Heavenly Demon's interests. His boss's reputation preceded him like a shield, most criminals understood that crossing the Donquixote Family meant inviting the kind of retaliation that could erase entire crews from existence.

Whatever happened next, Disco was confident this intruder wouldn't be walking out of the auction house alive.

"Well, well," Disco's voice carried false warmth as he adjusted his star-shaped sunglasses, though his grip tightened on the auction hammer. "I suppose that could be called... ambitious. Though I'd say 'suicidal' might be more accurate." He gestured toward the Devil Fruit with theatrical flair. "This magnificent treasure has reached the bargain price of 410 million berries. Might I ask what generous offer you're prepared to make? I should mention that bidding increments cannot be less than 10 million."

Oboro reached into his pocket with deliberate slowness, his movements casual enough to suggest complete indifference to the hundreds of armed criminals surrounding him. When his hand emerged, it held a single coin that gleamed dully under the stage lights.

One hundred berries.

With a casual flick of his finger, he sent the coin spinning through the air. Disco caught it reflexively, his expression shifting from false confidence to genuine confusion as he processed what had just occurred.

"..."

The silence stretched until it became uncomfortable. Pirates throughout the venue craned their necks to get a better look at the stage, uncertain whether they'd witnessed an elaborate joke or the opening move of something far more dangerous.

"Are you here to cause trouble?" Disco's voice had shed its theatrical warmth, replaced by the cold authority of someone accustomed to enforcing respect through violence.

"One hundred berries isn't cheap," Oboro replied with maddening calm, taking a step toward the ornate treasure chest. "Considering I wasn't planning to spend anything at all."

Before anyone could react, his arm moved in a blur of motion. The Devil Fruit vanished from its velvet cushion as if it had never existed, leaving behind only empty space and the lingering scent of otherworldly power.

The entire venue erupted into chaos.

Shouts of disbelief, rage, and grudging admiration crashed together as hundreds of voices tried to process what they'd just witnessed. Pirates leaped to their feet, hands reaching for weapons, while others simply stared in stunned amazement at the sheer audacity of what had just occurred.

This wasn't just theft, this was a direct challenge to one of the most powerful organizations in the Grand Line, delivered with the casual confidence of someone swatting a fly.

Before the commotion could fully develop, Oboro's enhanced senses had already catalogued the response building around him. Two figures emerged from the shadows behind the stage, Delinger and Lao G, their movements carrying the fluid precision of predators who had been waiting for exactly this moment.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Trebol observing from his concealed position, the top executive's grotesque features twisted into something approaching anticipation rather than anger.

"Incredible! Absolutely incredible!"

To everyone's surprise, Disco's voice suddenly exploded with renewed enthusiasm. Rather than calling for security or demanding the return of his merchandise, the auctioneer threw himself back into his showman persona with manic energy.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" he screamed into his microphone, his voice carrying to every corner of the packed venue. "Let your enthusiasm reach even greater heights! To prevent tonight's festivities from becoming monotonous, our brave friend here is performing a death-defying comedy act for your entertainment!"

"OHHHHH!"

The crowd's response was immediate and visceral. Pirates throughout the venue roared their approval, caught up in the theatrical spectacle unfolding before them. Some even began shouting encouragement to Oboro, urging him to run for his life rather than face whatever punishment awaited.

The atmosphere had transformed from formal auction to gladiatorial arena in the span of moments.

"Go to hell!"

The enthusiasm vanished from Disco's voice like smoke. Without warning, his free hand produced a silver pistol that he aimed directly at Oboro's head. The transition from showman to killer was so smooth it spoke to years of practice.

BANG!

The gunshot cracked through the air with authority, followed immediately by a pained groan from somewhere in the audience. But the bullet had found the wrong target, Oboro had shifted just enough to let the projectile whistle past his cheek and into the crowd beyond.

The atmosphere in the venue reached fever pitch. Pirates began screaming encouragement and betting odds, their bloodthirsty nature fully awakened by the promise of violence. Some seemed disappointed that the shot had missed, eager to witness whatever carnage would follow.

"What the hell, ?"

Disco's confidence cracked as he took an involuntary step backward. The casual way his target had avoided a point-blank gunshot suggested capabilities far beyond what he'd initially assumed. This wasn't some desperate rookie making a doomed grab for power, this was someone who possessed the skills to back up his outrageous behavior.

The implications sent ice through his veins.

Simultaneously, the auction house's main entrances slammed shut with mechanical precision. Armed guards emerged from concealed positions throughout the venue, their weapons trained on both the stage and the increasingly agitated crowd. Whatever happened next, no one would be leaving until the situation was resolved.

Oboro took a moment to absorb the atmosphere surrounding him, his analytical mind cataloguing the raw bloodlust that permeated the air. This was his first real exposure to authentic pirate culture, and the experience was both enlightening and disgusting.

Characters like Luffy and Ace truly were exceptional anomalies in a sea of monsters. Most pirates didn't pursue freedom or adventure, they simply wanted the license to indulge their worst impulses without consequences. The veneer of romance that surrounded piracy in stories couldn't disguise the fundamental savagery that drove most of these crews.

Whoosh.

The air itself seemed to explode as a figure burst from the shadows with supernatural speed. A whip-kick cut through the space where Oboro's head had been moments before, the force behind it sufficient to create visible shockwaves in the surrounding atmosphere.

If the attack had connected, Oboro's current physical condition would have meant instant death. No dramatic struggle, no final words, just obliteration delivered with surgical precision.

Delinger's assault carried the clear intent of ending the confrontation with a single decisive blow.

However, his incredible speed met an equally incredible response. Oboro leaned backward with fluid grace, his ankles pivoting to carry him away from the deadly arc with minimal wasted motion. The precision of his movement spoke to enhanced reflexes and combat experience that few in the venue possessed.

Someone in the audience whistled appreciatively at the display of skill.

"Not bad," Delinger acknowledged with predatory satisfaction, his pointed teeth gleaming as he landed in a combat crouch. The young half-fishman's eyes carried the manic gleam of someone who lived for violence. "You've got some skill after all."

His body became a blur of motion as he launched into a second attack, his right leg sweeping toward Oboro with bullet-like velocity. The technique combined his fishman heritage's natural strength with years of refined training under Doflamingo's tutelage.

"As expected from fishman bloodline," Oboro murmured with analytical appreciation. "Physical capabilities alone are extraordinary."

While his current body couldn't match Delinger's raw power or speed in direct confrontation, the gap wasn't insurmountable. Years of combat experience across multiple realities had taught him that superior technique could often overcome physical disadvantages.

More importantly, he had no intention of wasting time in prolonged combat when his objective had already been achieved.

Oboro used advanced footwork to create distance from his opponent's assault, his movements carrying an almost dance-like quality that spoke to martial arts mastery. When Delinger closed the gap with another explosive charge, something impossible occurred.

A door materialized in the empty air behind Oboro's position, ornate wood and brass fittings that belonged to no architectural style found in the auction house. The portal hung in space as if gravity and physics were merely suggestions.

Under Delinger's shocked gaze, Oboro allowed himself to fall backward like a man fainting, his body passing through the impossible doorway with casual elegance. Before disappearing completely, he lifted his head just enough to fix the young half-fishman with eyes that sparkled with dark amusement.

"Thank you for your hospitality."

The four words were delivered with such casual arrogance that they struck Delinger like physical blows. The implication was clear, this entire confrontation had been nothing more than entertainment, a minor diversion that hadn't even required serious effort.

SNAP.

The door vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving no trace of its existence or the man who had escaped through it. The stage stood empty except for the stunned auctioneer and the ornate chest that no longer contained its precious cargo.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Devil Fruit user!

The realization struck every person in the venue simultaneously. Only someone who had consumed one of those legendary treasures could have performed such an impossible feat. The mysterious intruder hadn't just been a skilled fighter, he'd been a supernatural entity operating by entirely different rules.

No one had expected the brazen robbery occurring right under their noses to actually succeed. They'd anticipated watching a spectacular execution, not witnessing what might have been the most audacious theft in Sabaody Archipelago's criminal history.

Trebol's grotesque laughter died in his throat, his perpetually amused expression freezing into something approaching horror. For the first time in years, someone had made the Donquixote Family look foolish in front of hundreds of witnesses.

Throughout the venue, pirates and criminals sat in stunned silence as the implications crashed over them like a tsunami. This wasn't just a successful robbery, this was a direct challenge to one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, delivered with such casual confidence that it bordered on insanity.

If word of this spread throughout the Grand Line...

The very foundations of Doflamingo's carefully constructed reputation could be shaken. Fear was the currency of power in the criminal underworld, and fear required the perception of invincibility. What happened when that perception cracked?

In the shadows behind the stage, Delinger stood with his fists clenched and his entire body trembling with barely contained rage. The humiliation burned in his chest like acid, not just personal defeat, but professional failure that would reflect on the entire Family.

The mysterious thief had made them all look like amateurs, and worse, he'd done it with a smile.

As the reality of the situation finally penetrated the shocked minds of everyone present, one thought echoed through the auction house with crystal clarity:

This was only the beginning.