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167 HxH: Tombbound Power
🕑 Added 2024-10-28 06:09:03 +0000 UTCChrollo's voice remained calm as he continued the roll call, unaffected by Uvogin's enthusiastic interruption.
"Combatants: Uvogin, Franklin, Nobunaga."
"Intelligence: Shalnark."
Shalnark gave a cheerful nod. "Got it!!"
"Interrogation: Feitan."
Feitan sneered, his voice sharp. "I'll make them spill even what color underwear their boss wears."
"Support: Machi."
Machi smirked. "Leave it to me~."
"Logistics: Ronnel."
Chrollo's gaze rested on Ronnel, standing in the back.
"Is that all right?"
"More than fine," Ronnel replied with a cold grin. "Just leave their corpses to me~."
His lips curled slightly, hinting at morbid anticipation. With each death, more poison and necrotic energy could be harvested. And with Kurapika's colleagues attending the auction, along with Nen-wielding bodyguards, tonight promised a bountiful collection.
Uvogin grinned wide. "Finally, someone to clean up the mess! Now we can really go all out!"
Feitan glanced at Ronnel but said nothing. The others also nodded in agreement. While they didn't mind destruction, they knew all too well how annoying it was to deal with lingering consequences. Flies buzzing around the aftermath were hardly a welcome distraction.
Chrollo gave a slight smile. "Do as you please. I only care about one thing—bring me the auction items tonight."
"All of them."
On the streets, Gon clenched his hand, shaking out the soreness after another arm-wrestling victory.
"Come on! Anyone else want to give it a try? The challenge fee is cheap, and if you win, you get a gem worth three million Jenny!" Leorio called out enthusiastically, hyping up the crowd.
Beside him, Killua counted the money and kept track of the bets. Gon leaned over and whispered,
"Do you think this will actually make us a lot of money?"
Killua shrugged. "Who knows~. But Leorio always has a plan, so let's just roll with it."
Leorio grinned slyly, ready to reel in a big spender with Gon's winning streak.
Elsewhere, the Nostrade Family was preparing for the underground auction. Since only three representatives from each faction were allowed, the bodyguards were divided into groups.
Light Nostrade had seen the ominous prophecy in Chrollo's fortune, forewarning of danger. Although he prohibited Neon from attending, he still dispatched bodyguards. After all, that was their job: acting as shields in times of crisis.
"Surviving danger boosts your reputation and opens doors to better jobs," Light reasoned. For the bodyguards, it was both a challenge and an opportunity.
They didn't complain—they knew the risks and accepted the assignment without hesitation.
When Neon learned she wasn't allowed to attend the auction, however, she threw a tantrum. She screamed, cried, and even whacked Dalzollene on the head with two heavy pillows. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she fell asleep.
The maids calmly tidied up the mess, clearly accustomed to Neon's outbursts.
Kurapika stood silently in the hallway, his crimson eyes concealed behind colored contact lenses. His heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. The Phantom Troupe is coming... The eyes of my people are in this city.
He clenched his fists. And Ronnel… Is he here too?
"Kurapika."
Melody, standing beside him, looked up in concern. The rhythm of Kurapika's heartbeat had shifted—from anger and longing to a complex swirl of emotions that worried her.
Meanwhile, in an upscale hotel, Leiert, another player in tonight's events, had just relocated his men into one of his family's properties.
After organizing the bodyguards, Leiert was left alone with his old servant. With a cigar between his lips, Leiert lit it using a gun-shaped lighter, then exhaled a puff of smoke.
"Is this the prophecy Light Nostrade gave me?" Leiert asked, eyes narrowing at the paper the old servant held out.
"Yes, sir," the servant answered. "According to this, the auction will be dangerous tonight."
Leiert gave a dismissive wave. "If it's dangerous, then don't go."
(T/N: Leiert is a guy from the Thousand Ears Society mission who hired Ronnell, he looks for rare things at auctions.)
He took another drag from the cigar and smirked. "Just send someone eager to prove their loyalty. Plenty of fools want to impress me, so let the most enthusiastic one take the hit."
The "fools" Leiert referred to were his underlings, those craving status and favor within his organization. As for whether this plan would irritate the Ten Dons?
Who cared? With bloodshed likely, no one would mind if the wrong person showed up.
The old servant nodded. "Shall I also assign bodyguards?"
