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168 HxH: Tombbound Power
🕑 Added 2024-10-29 07:00:03 +0000 UTC"No, the prophecy was crystal clear. Sending bodyguards would be sending them to their deaths. I refuse to waste my money before I even get the services I deserve," Leiert said with a slow, deliberate tone.
"But... it's an auction hosted by the Ten Dons. Should we really act like this...?" The old servant hesitated, worry etched into his expression.
Leiert dismissed the question with a casual wave. The servant immediately took the cue, gave a slight bow, and exited the room, walking backward without another word.
"Heh, even I got my hands on the prophecy. With Light Nostrade's temperament, you think he wouldn't pass this intel to the Dons? He'd never miss such an opportunity."
Leiert took a long drag from his cigar, savoring the rich flavor as his mind worked through the situation.
"The Ten Dons have been quiet about the underground auction—too quiet. That means it's proceeding as planned, but I'll bet anything they've made contingency plans."
He exhaled a plume of smoke, the tendrils curling lazily toward the ceiling.
"In a situation like this, sending anyone is meaningless..."
As Leiert continued mulling over the prophecy, his suspicions aligned with reality: the Dons had already received the same divination and still chose to proceed. After some deliberation, they assigned their elite enforcers—the Shadow Beasts—to secure the auction's treasures.
Though it was still the morning of August 31st, tension already simmered beneath the surface of Youkexin City.
The bustling streets were packed as the city prepared for the underground auction, drawing gang leaders, aristocrats, and the wealthiest collectors from all over. Everyone was here, hoping to claim their piece of the dream auction, which would officially begin in early September.
The influx of visitors brought prosperity—but also risk. Yorknew's economy flourished briefly, but residents knew all too well that the chaos often followed close behind. Just last year, a conflict between two gang factions escalated into an open street war. The Ten Dons, furious with the recklessness, expelled both families, but not before countless innocent residents lost their lives.
The people of Yorknew City lived with a grim understanding: life here was cheap. No matter how many civilians were caught in the crossfire, the gang-controlled government wouldn't lift a finger to help. All the residents could do was hope this year's auction ended without bloodshed. But deep down, they knew better.
Because in this world, Murphy's Law reigns supreme.
The more you hope for peace, the less likely you are to get it.
As the afternoon dragged on, the streets remained oddly calm. For now. The gangs avoided stirring up trouble—whether out of respect for the auction or fear of the Dons. The residents dared to breathe a little easier, hoping this unusual peace would last until the night was over.
But when evening came, the game began.
Inside a hot air balloon drifting over the city, Shalnark was briefing his teammates.
"We've pinpointed the auction's location, identified who the organizers will send, and mapped their route. Even the car they'll be using—got it all."
He adjusted the antennae of his phone with a satisfied grin.
"The plan is simple. We intercept the organizers, steal their place, and infiltrate the auction disguised as them. The second team will wait for my signal and grab the prize."
He scanned the faces of his companions. "Any objections?"
"None," Feitan muttered from beneath his cloak, his voice low and rough. "Leave the intercept to me. I'll make sure they don't breathe long enough to regret it."
Franklin raised one massive hand. "I'm in. I'll clear the way inside."
Uvogin shifted excitedly in his seat. "I'll take care of the auction loot!"
Nobunaga remained silent, only lifting his hand in quiet agreement. The two had been partners since their days on the streets of Meteor City.
"I'll stay outside to back you up," Machi offered, her tone casual. "And I'll handle the cleanup and transporting the goods."
Finally, Ronnel spoke up. "Transport, huh? That'll be my job."
"Transport?" Uvogin echoed with a puzzled frown.
"Yeah," Shalnark confirmed. "Ronnel's Nen ability is like a portable storage space." He glanced at Ron for clarification. "Care to explain?"
Ron grinned. "It works like this: as long as the object's lifeless, I can store it. It doesn't matter how much time passes inside the pocket—the object stays unchanged."
Uvogin's confusion deepened. "How much can you carry, though?"
"The stronger my Nen, the bigger the space," Ron replied confidently. "Think of it like those item slots in video games—each type of thing takes up one slot, no matter the size. For example, thirty-five corpses would just be 'Corpse x35.'"
His grin widened. "The number of slots? Infinite."
Uvogin let out an impressed whistle. "Man, that's some useful Nen. Too bad it doesn't help in a fight, though."
"Don't worry about that," Ronnel chuckled. "Just leave the heavy lifting to me."
And so, with their plan laid out and each member assigned their role, the Phantom Troupe prepared to make their move. As always, chaos lurked just beneath the surface—and in Yorknew City, it was only a matter of time before it burst free.
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