The opportunity to join the Twelve Zodiacs dangled before Oboro like a ripe fruit. Of course, he wanted it, who wouldn't? But the timing wasn't right. The position would give him considerable administrative authority and access to higher levels of power, but that wasn't enough.
The Fells' plans were still in their infancy and would require patience to bear fruit. Complex connections alone wouldn't be enough; as the family's leader, Oboro needed to build his personal influence. His ambitions extended beyond simply joining the Twelve Zodiacs; he had his sights set on the presidency itself. Each increase in status would grant him more freedom of action, gradually loosening V5's restrictions on his movements.
In the end, it all came down to power.
Menchi put down her phone and processed what she'd just heard between Oboro and the President. The revelation that Oboro had been offered a position with the Twelve Zodiacs shocked her, though she understood why. Though he had only completed two missions since joining the Association, his skills had caught the attention of every hunter in its ranks.
"Why did you refuse?" she couldn't help but ask.
Their current mission was to protect an important museum that intelligence indicated was being targeted by a powerful criminal organization. This marked the beginning of a high-level power struggle within the country, one that touched on sensitive political spheres. Not that it affected them directly, but their only responsibility was to prevent the destruction of the venue.
The choice of this mission had been deliberate: moderately challenging, without being among the starred professional tasks. For now, the priority was to train his teammates' skills. Completing the mission would add to his resume, but it wouldn't affect his professional points.
So far, everything had gone smoothly in Oboro's presence.
"The President's call itself shows that the time is not right," Oboro said quietly from his position on the roof of the museum, scanning their surroundings. "With his personality, if the time were truly right, he would have made the decision directly rather than informing me first."
"What do you mean?" Menchi's expression showed her confusion.
"I am certainly not the only candidate for the Twelve Zodiacs," Oboro continued. "If my guess is correct, Kang Jae is one of the candidates. Compared to him, my advantages are not clear. My appointment would create animosity and disrupt the cooperative atmosphere among the Twelve Zodiacs."
He paused briefly before adding, "But that's not even the core issue. Neither the president nor I are particularly concerned about that aspect. The real problem is what will happen when the news spreads. The Association members and faction leaders would surely protest. Even if I kept my cool, the widespread criticism would make my position within the Association untenable. I'd become a pariah."
"Since when do you care about the opinions of others?" Menchi asked, knowing his usual disregard for public perception.
"Are you familiar with Pariston?" Oboro's lips curved into a slight smile.
"I've seen him," Menchi replied cautiously.
"I suspect he's going to vote for me."
"You have bad blood with him?" Menchi began, sensing deeper implications in Oboro's words.
"I despise his aura," Oboro said. "In a voting scenario, I'd probably win by a narrow margin among the current Twelve Zodiacs, thanks to Pariston's machinations. Once I became a Tiger, my position in the Association would be compromised. Even future achievements couldn't erase the stigma of having gained the position through backdoor politics. The position of the Twelve Zodiacs would become a poisoned chalice, preventing me from gaining real support within the Association or gaining the public's trust.
Menchi felt a shiver run down her spine as Oboro continued, "My advancement would stop there. I'd spend the rest of my career stuck at the level of the Twelve Zodiacs, remembered only as a 'somewhat notable' member."
"The President is using this as a prelude, a shield for the future. When the next opportunity arises, the other Twelve Zodiacs won't be able to object. By then, I'll have raised my star level and made great achievements. The situation will be completely different.
"It's an exquisitely crafted trap," Oboro raised his eyebrows at her. "Do you understand now?"
The chill in Menchi's heart grew as she contemplated Pariston's cunning and the murky waters ahead. From Oboro's brief exchange with Netero, he had somehow deduced the entire situation at the Association's headquarters. How had he pieced it all together from such limited information?
Pariston! The name darkened Oboro's eyes.
I must proceed with extreme caution,' he thought. His insight is frightening, he's already deduced my intention to influence the power of the Association through my gang experience, seeing how I'm different from Ging.
After all, the Association represented the next phase for the Fells family.
By studying Oboro's background, Pariston had uncovered his true agenda.
This man must die when the opportunity presents itself," Oboro concluded silently.
Menchi collected herself and looked at Oboro with fresh eyes. Indeed, only monsters were qualified to play on such levels, where minds clashed like blades.
Had she been in his position, she would have walked straight into Pariston's trap, probably even thanking the Vice President for his support.
"But once the positions of the Twelve Zodiacs are filled, they rarely change unless something unexpected happens," Menchi mused aloud. "When will another opportunity arise?"
"It doesn't matter," Oboro replied. "Even if it takes years of setbacks, I only care about the end result, not the journey."
"Years? Menchi frowned.
Why did Oboro seem so certain that something would happen to the Twelve Zodiacs within a few years?
Time passed steadily. For almost a year, Oboro led his team of five through an intense succession of missions, accumulating merit along the way. They took every starred assignment they could find, and when none were available, they chose tasks that matched their professional specialties.
To outsiders, Oboro and his companions seemed like workaholics. Their dedication had dramatically increased the Association's success rate that year, greatly enhancing the reputation of the headquarters.
Most importantly, Menchi and the others had experienced remarkable growth. Under the guidance of an exceptional captain like Oboro, their high-intensity mission schedule had inevitably led to their "evolution.
Both Oboro and Menchi earned their promotions to One-Star Hunters.
After that, Oboro temporarily disbanded the team, allowing the five members to undertake solo missions to develop their independence and find compatible teammates through the Association's platform.
Oboro's next steps would focus on earning professional points. While his qualifications could have earned him two-star status, his accomplishments in his field were still somewhat lacking.
He also planned to help new members of the Association, help others grow, and perform tasks to build goodwill. After all, the Hunters Association was a complex web of relationships where strength alone wasn't always enough.
Ging had explained the problem perfectly.
Some Nen users trained by the Fells family were sent to Hero Island, while others passed the Hunter's Exam to join the Association, putting subtle pieces in place.
These two approaches alone wouldn't be enough. The third key task was to hunt monsters.
Oboro had confirmed that killing monsters yielded souls and black fog, though not as frequently as Nen users, and the improvements were less dramatic. Still, the sheer quantity available made them an untapped resource.
Initial estimates suggested that it would take about a year to accomplish these three goals.
With his goals set, Oboro threw himself back into action.
Meanwhile, on the eastern coast of the Republic of Batokia, a scruffy, bearded man stood guard over a restricted area cordoned off by armed mafia members in broad daylight.
One by one, gang leaders emerged from luxury vehicles to board an opulent ferry, surrounded by their subordinates.
"Impressive that someone could create a real game world," Ging mused, adjusting his hat as the sea breeze whipped around him.
He'd stumbled upon some interesting news: a game called "Hero Island" was undergoing internal testing, open only to underground organizations on the six continents. Gang affiliation was required for entry.
His curiosity drew him to investigate, wanting to compare this Hero Island to his own Greed Island.
The game's obvious Mafia connections suggested the involvement of someone like the Dons. Starting with gang members made sense; they were known quantities, minimizing risk.
Ging knew who was really behind the creation of the game: Oboro. None of the other Dons could have pulled it off, even working together.
Though both had been members of the Association for years, Ging had never met Oboro in person. Between Ging's infrequent appearances at the headquarters and Oboro's own irregular presence, their paths hadn't crossed.
But that wasn't the real reason; Ging simply preferred to avoid close relationships and networking.
Curiosity drove him to experience Hero Island firsthand. He'd heard of Oboro long ago; knowing the Chairman's personality, his interest in Oboro spoke volumes about the man's abilities.
After much deliberation, Ging approached the assembled gangsters.
Hours later, as the ship pulled away from the harbor, Ging moved through the cabin in his gangster disguise. Upon reaching certain coordinates, he observed Nen users from various families boarding smaller vessels while the gang leaders remained behind.
Analyzing their conversations, Ging noticed similarities to the participants on Greed Island, who required Nen skills. The gameplay appeared to be more gambling-oriented, with strict team limits of five people per family.
The game offered an alternative to traditional gangster entertainment, a more sophisticated pastime. Leaders simply waited for news of their subordinates' victories or defeats.
This transfer process suggested that Hero Island's entry method and structural rules were less sophisticated than Greed Island's, but Ging remained intrigued.
He slipped away from the ship, having already identified the location of Hero Island, one of only two small islands in the area.
Soon, from a stolen inflatable raft, he witnessed Gang Nen users teleporting in streaks of light from an offshore base station.
"Not a bad method of entry," he admitted, preparing to sneak past the station and onto the island; the lack of official testing credentials left him no choice.
But when the silhouette of the island appeared on the horizon, Ging halted his approach.
"This complicates things, I'll have to force my way through."
Countless seagulls circled overhead, while schools of fish swarmed below, not ordinary creatures, but entities controlled by some form of Nen.
A constructed barrier of staggering proportions.
The implications were clear: numerous individuals had developed Nen abilities specifically for the game's systems.
The coverage left no blind spots; advancing would trigger the "alarm" immediately.
Beyond these external "mechanisms", the island undoubtedly contained additional security measures.
"Well," Ging scratched his head.
While his Nen abilities could exploit some weaknesses, the meticulous defenses suggested that the island's extensive high-tech equipment and personnel were a more formidable obstacle.
The gangs had no shortage of money, manpower, weapons, or technology.
The differences in the method of entry from Greed Island made Oboro's game inherently safer from infiltration.
These were measures Ging could have anticipated, but after learning about Oboro, he suspected additional layers of security beyond his imagination.
"I'll wait," Ging sighed after a moment of thought. "This is just internal testing, public access can't be far off."
His solitary figure cut a lonely figure as he rowed away.
A wasted journey.
As expected, he soon encountered the gang's marine patrol.
The Fells family had purchased these private waters and closed them to the public.
"This is a bit inconvenient," Ging's mouth twitched.