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169 HxH: Tombbound Power
🕑 Added 2024-10-29 07:00:44 +0000 UTCShalnark nodded toward Ronnel and said,
"Well, if that's the case, I'll handle the coordination from here. If there are no issues, we'll begin after the balloon touches down. Feitan, the vehicle provided by the organizers is..."
As Shalnark continued his explanation, the balloon drifted, finally descending into the outskirts near the city.
"Shua!"
Once the group disembarked from the hot air balloon, Ronnel raised a hand and stored it away in front of the others.
"That's definitely a handy ability~"
With that, they exchanged glances, impressed yet again, before scattering to begin their tasks.
The sun had started its slow descent toward the west, while the moon crept steadily into the sky. Tonight was fated to be anything but peaceful.
The underground auction, organized by the Ten Dons, was an elite gathering of the world's most notorious gangs. Its purpose was twofold: to reinforce the Dons' influence and to provide an arena for underworld families to flaunt wealth, strength, and ambition.
Every crime family knew that currying favor with the Dons could make or break their fortunes for the next year. Even a mere scrap of approval from the Dons—just enough to be called a bone—would send these "hungry dogs" scrambling.
Thus, the auction attracted top-tier figures: high-ranking officers, deputies, and even family heads. However, not all participants were genuine competitors. Some, like Light Nostrade, wished for the ruin of their rivals. Families who obtained hints from the recent divination poem guarded their knowledge closely, sharing nothing with outsiders.
Nostrade, along with other families in possession of the divination, sent only professional bodyguards to represent them. Light Nostrade dispatched three:
Baise, a pink-haired beauty exuding confidence, wearing a strikingly bold outfit.
Ivlenkov, a towering man with the physique of a fighter from the polar north.
Squala, a wiry figure with a mischievous glint, his appearance evoking a playful Mexican flair.
Although they were well aware of the danger tonight, the specifics remained elusive, and their tension bubbled beneath the surface as they made small talk.
"None of them are here," Dochino observed, scanning the hall.
"They're already in Yorknew City but chose to skip this event," Ivlenkov responded grimly.
"It's clear they've all received Miss Neon's divination poem. The danger Boss Dalzollene warned us about must be imminent."
Dalzollene wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to smile. "Well, that's not reassuring... Looks like we're in for one hell of a night, huh?"
"Enough worrying," Baise said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Remember our mission. No matter the situation, we complete our task. Stick to that principle, and you'll be fine."
Meanwhile, at the auction hall's entrance...
"Kach~"
The sound of throats being slashed broke the silence as Ronnel disposed of several guards. He stowed their bodies neatly into his space backpack, then exchanged signals with Shalnark. The plan was underway—Uvogin and Nobunaga would secure the auction goods, while Feitan and Franklin prepared for their chaotic performance.
Leaning casually against the wall, Ronnel waited, fully prepared to absorb the wave of death and loot whatever he could.
Inside the hall, the underworld elite remained blissfully unaware of the massacre at the door. The auction was starting, and two figures emerged onto the stage, stepping to the lone microphone stand.
The first was a short man with an unsettling grin. Behind him stood a hulking brute, his expression radiating menace.
The gathered gang leaders, accustomed to all manner of villains, assumed these two were merely the auction's hosts and gave them their full attention. Even Baise and her companions didn't suspect anything—though something about the pair felt slightly off.
The short man grasped the microphone, his lips curling into a sly smile.
"Welcome, esteemed guests. I'll skip the pointless formalities."
His grin widened.
"Let's get straight to business—send everyone to hell!!"
A stunned silence followed. Baise's smile faded instantly as she, Ivlenkov, and Dalzollene tensed. Their instincts screamed danger.
In the next moment, the larger man's fingers popped off, revealing the muzzles of hidden guns. A hail of bullets erupted, raining death upon the gathered criminals, whose hair stood on end with terror.
Outside, Kurapika listened to the commotion from his position near the auction house, speaking quietly with Melody.
"...What if a former comrade now stands in opposition to you?" he asked, his voice heavy with unspoken concern.
Melody, with her usual gentle wisdom, paused before replying.
"There have been many cases throughout history where allies turned enemies due to different beliefs or goals. You likely know more about this than I do. Or perhaps," she added, "you already know the answer but just aren't ready to accept it."
Kurapika looked up at the night sky, the stars shimmering coldly above him.
"Not sure... huh?" he murmured softly.
"Clang!"
The sound from inside the auction house jolted Kurapika back to full attention.
"What's happening?!" he asked, his senses now on high alert. Melody, too, stood ready, her calm demeanor replaced with sharp vigilance.
