Ging pondered Oboro's nature, which seemed to defy simple categorization. While there were abilities like prophecy and destiny reading, Oboro's telepathic abilities were something else entirely. It wasn't an ability at all, but rather an inherent quality that Ging could only associate with the Dark Continent, that realm of the unknown where common sense had no place.
These characteristics of Oboro's, whether innate or acquired, seemed to come from beyond the human world. Ging had considered the possibility that other telepaths were helping Oboro, but the scope was too vast. If it were merely an ability, it would have limitations, perhaps requiring direct contact or personal information about the target. Such limitations would have made detection inevitable.
The President, himself, Biscuit, Pariston Maybe Oboro could hide his abilities from one person, but not from everyone. Ging had never even met him in person, and Oboro had left no trace in recent years. Besides, it would be unimaginably difficult to develop telepathy combined with prophetic destiny. No, considering all the factors, it couldn't be created artificially.
"His intentions towards the Association are clear enough," Ging muttered to himself. "We can't let him take power. He's too unpredictable, acting on his own whims without regard for anything else. Fortunately, as long as he's around, Oboro can be kept in check. Things are stable for now, though I'd rather not make an enemy of someone so troublesome."
In the midst of his contemplation, Ging's character leapt from the river grass, effortlessly eliminating an unwary enemy hero. The defeated player disintegrated into data, his main body returning to the well while a phantom corpse marked his demise. Ging calmly reloaded, muttering, "Clean shot."
His fellow gang members grouped with him screamed in surprise at his sudden ambush. Their admiration turned to shock when they noticed the golden level number above his character.
"How can you be level 6 already? You're higher than me," one man gaped. He was still only level 4.
Ging just glanced at him and scurried away, ignoring the question.
"Wait! Teach me how to level up!" The teammate chased after him, leaving his path completely.
Ging sighed and ordered them back to their positions, then used the team voice chat to explain the strategies he'd observed.
Outside in the lobby, Oboro waited until nightfall, but Ging never showed. The manager informed him that Ging had led an improvised team on an unprecedented winning streak: twelve consecutive victories, each a swift and crushing defeat for their opponents.
"At this rate, he'll be ready for ranked matches in a matter of days. He's far exceeding our initial expectations," the manager said, clearly impressed.
"Let him play," Oboro replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. The game was addictive, true, but its emphasis on competition meant that simply beating weaker players would soon bore Ging. What he needed was high-level competition, and the gang's Nen users clearly weren't enough to challenge him.
When Ging finally showed up the next morning, Oboro was waiting. "Your thoughts?"
"Easy to learn, but not easy," Ging analyzed. "The entertainment comes from the interaction of the players rather than the game itself, so it surpasses Greed Island. Though there is room for improvement, areas that could be enriched".
"I'll leave it up to you then. Official release is in nine months."
"What you really want isn't game content, it's using this platform to capitalize on your 'Player Agreement', right?"
"Does that bother your conscience?" Oboro asked calmly.
"Hardly. Even if their motives are obvious, players will still flock to them. They're in it for the profit, just like you. It's fair." Ging had benefited from his winning streak himself, even though the gang's Nen users had nothing else worth his attention.
"An additional request," Ging raised a finger.
Oboro nodded and smiled.
"During the beta, I would like permission to invite people other than gang members, specifically from the Association."
"Pariston, you mean?" Oboro's smile grew knowing. "It's pointless for me to let you in without worrying about the consequences. You and Pariston are similar in that way. Using him to check my power is wasteful. Besides, he's after you as much as he is after me. Why compromise yourself just to trap me?"
"I just want them to experience your game. I think it could be beneficial to the development of Nen users," Ging's expression remained neutral.
"You consider me a greater threat than Pariston," Oboro's smile contained dark amusement. "Very well. I'll have someone contact the Association and invite all twelve Zodiac members and the Chairman."
Ging's eyes flickered at the inclusion of the chairman. Clever move. Oboro wouldn't be easy to contain.
"Second request: I want to know the true purpose of your agreement. My guess is that you can't enter the game yourself right now, otherwise you wouldn't be waiting out here".
"You've already guessed that it's about reaching the Dark Continent at some point," Oboro said cryptically.
"Of course," Ging adjusted his hat with a sigh. "It has to do with power."
"Deal accepted," Oboro continued. "Beyond the content of the game, I hope you'll help protect this island in the coming months. You must realize its importance to my plans. Use whatever methods you wish to maintain the stability of the Association, or sanction me directly. Set traps if you wish, it doesn't matter."
Oboro had seen through Ging's intentions to slow his progress. Ging believed that Oboro would reach the Dark Continent sooner than anyone expected, causing unimaginable consequences. Unable to stop him directly, this was Ging's only option.
"If anything goes wrong, you know the consequences," Oboro warned.
"I signed the agreement. Too late for regrets now," Ging smiled, ignoring the threat.
They both made threats, Oboro holding the game hostage, Ging Oboro's family. Neither dared to risk carrying them out. For quicker results, Oboro needed gold, while Ging's sudden interest in Hero Island, despite his dismissal of Pariston, was purely about Oboro. He sensed that Oboro was an even greater danger than the chairman realized.
Ging knew that he was at a disadvantage. Oboro probably knew everything about him, while Ging knew very little about Oboro. The game was his only opening. With the Chairman present, they could only play their cards openly, not exactly as enemies, but each maintaining contingency plans.
Oboro left under Ging's watchful gaze. On the beach, he instructed Mondel: "Proceed as discussed, invite the Zodiac members under the Fells family name, but ban Pariston's account the moment he logs in.
A slight grin crossed his face.
"Understood," Mondel replied.
"Heh," Oboro chuckled softly. Ging was trying remarkably hard to contain him, the first person since Oboro joined the Association to see through him so thoroughly, something not even Netero had managed.
But it wasn't surprising. This was Ging Freecss, after all. He'd earned this insight.