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170 HxH: Tombbound Power
🕑 Added 2024-10-30 06:55:03 +0000 UTC"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
"Ahhhh!"
In the chaotic auction hall, bullets tore through the air indiscriminately, striking down attendees one after another. Many were shot multiple times, collapsing in a crimson spray and dying on the spot.
Others, hit in the limbs during the initial onslaught, screamed in agony amidst the splatter of flesh and blood. However, the second wave of Nen-imbued bullets abruptly silenced them. Their bodies hit the floor—lifeless.
The once lively auction room had become a living nightmare, a hellish landscape of blood and death.
Feitan covered his ears, an almost gleeful spark in his eyes as he observed the massacre. The pool of dying gangsters mirrored his twisted pleasure, the same sadistic thrill that lit up Franklin's face behind him.
"Get behind me!"
As Franklin's arm-mounted machine guns roared to life, Tocino activated his Nen ability:
"Eleven Black Children"
He motioned for Baise follow, and they both took cover behind him.
But it was useless.
Their abilities were leagues apart, and Franklin's Nen bullets tore through Tocino's conjured dolls as if they were soap bubbles. The figures crumbled, their lifeless forms evaporating alongside Tocino's hopes of defense.
The next hail of bullets found their mark, riddling Tocino's body. Blood poured from his wounds as he struggled to shield the others.
"Go… run…"
Gasping, Tocino turned to Baise and Ivlenkov, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. With the last of his strength, he gave his final order.
In the next moment, a bullet punctured his skull, and his lifeless body hit the floor—eyes frozen wide in a vacant stare.
Baise and Ivlenkov were the only survivors in the hall, their hearts pounding with terror and grief. Yet, they forced themselves to suppress the emotions welling up inside and focused on their mission. With quick steps, they bolted toward the exit.
Meanwhile, Franklin lowered his machine guns and joined Feitan, both observing the fleeing pair like cats watching cornered prey.
Baise and Ivlenkov ran as fast as their adrenaline-fueled legs could carry them, nearly reaching the exit when—
Boom!
The heavy door swung open with a deafening crash.
Standing at the threshold was a young man in a black trench coat.
Their hearts sank. Reinforcements…
"Hmm?"
Ronnel stepped through the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic scene. The stench of blood filled the air. His attention soon landed on Baise and Ivlenkov, their faces twisted in panic.
A flicker of recognition dawned on him.
"Kurapika's allies. Looks like they didn't get killed by Franklin's bullets… only to be finished by Shizuku with that damned vacuum cleaner."
With that thought, Ronnel continued walking deeper into the room.
The two survivors stumbled backward, trembling. Fear and despair clawed at their minds. There was no escape—their only choices were a deadly abyss ahead or certain doom behind.
Resistance? A joke. Franklin's guns could obliterate them in a blink. As for the short man? His aura suggested he was far deadlier than he looked. And this new arrival? There was no telling what kind of monster lurked behind the mask and trench coat.
Desperation surged through Baise's veins. She gritted her teeth and prepared to make a final dash for freedom—
Bang!
A sudden gunshot echoed through the room, freezing her in place.
A blood-soaked figure staggered to his feet, clutching a pistol. His voice rasped with defiance, even as his strength waned.
"You… you won't get away with this… Not just you, but your friends… your families… all the gangsters in the underworld… they'll hunt you down… and they'll make sure you suffer…"
The man fired his last rounds in a futile attempt to fight back, gasping through every word.
Franklin, unbothered, stepped closer.
"Da da da…"
A final burst of gunfire silenced the man, leaving only the sound of blood dripping onto the floor.
Feitan glanced toward Franklin. "Which family was he talking about?"
"Who knows?" Franklin shrugged, turning toward Ronnel. "Think you can clean this up?"
Ronnel smiled faintly.
"Not a problem." He crouched down and began stowing the bodies into his spatial backpack without a second thought.
Ronnel then shot a sly look toward Feitan. "You know, without that hood, you're not half bad-looking."
Feitan gave him a sidelong glare. "And the mask you wear makes you look way better than your actual face."
It was a fair jab. After all, Ronnel was a Floor Master in Heavens Arena and a previous champion of the Battle Olympia. As someone with a bit of fame, he preferred to keep his identity hidden during operations.
Feitan's gaze shifted toward Baise and Ivlenkov. His cold, emotionless stare sent chills down their spines.
"Well then…" Feitan stepped forward, slowly pulling his hand from his pocket. "Let's end this farce."
"Pfft."
With one swift motion, Feitan beheaded both survivors. Their heads hit the floor with a soft thud, their faces frozen in terror—yet with a strange sense of relief.
Ronnel shook his head in mild exasperation. "Not like they had much of a chance, anyway."
Even if they had survived, their fate would have been worse in Feitan's hands. Death was a mercy compared to the torture that awaited them.
Casually, Ronnel stuffed the last of the bodies into his spatial backpack.
"I'll take care of these later. Once Uvogin finishes dealing with the Shadow Beasts, I'll find a quiet spot to… clean things up."
Just as Ronnel secured the final body, a booming voice echoed through the hall.
"Where the hell are the auction items?! What happened to the loot?! You'd better explain, you bastard!"
It was Uvogin, his fury as unmistakable as ever.
