Chapter 164: 164: It Seems That You Are Still Popular~
Even someone as sharp as Kurapika could only act against the Phantom Troupe after gaining the power of Emperor Time.
Even the Ten Dons, who sit at the top of the underworld hierarchy across the Six Continents, rely on their powerful Ten Shadows Beasts to maintain their grip on power.
I've never heard of their subordinates scheming or offering strategic advice.
So if this young scholar doesn't learn to recognize the brutal nature of the world, he won't survive long among these criminals—unless he withdraws from their game entirely.
After the scholar left, the deal was done.
The six mercenaries became part of the Leiert Family's workforce. However, there were still two months to go before the grand auction in Yorknew City. Naturally, the Leiert Family wasn't going to feed these mercenaries for free until then. Instead, they gave them smaller tasks of varying difficulty.
To Ronnel, such assignments were barely worth noticing.
Bored, Ronnel left early, leaving behind a puppet of Kay Taylor—more than enough to handle most issues.
Since he wasn't trying to make a scene, Ronnel set out to explore some local cemeteries, starting his journey to study death and corpse poisons.
Time passed.
Kurapika mastered Nen and joined the Nostrade Family once again. Leorio passed his entrance exam and avoided hefty tuition fees with his Hunter License.
Meanwhile, in Heavens Arena, Gon and Hisoka faced off, as if drawn together by fate. Old Pe kept himself busy refining his groundbreaking virtual game, while Ging and some trusted comrades set out to explore a recently unearthed cemetery.
In between missions, Ronnel visited Shizuku to spend time with her.
The six continents remained the same: the V5 kept pursuing their goal of reaching the Dark Continent, while the King of Kakin Empire chased dreams of immortality through fame. At the same time, the Hunter Association's chairman and vice chairman continued their subtle struggle for dominance.
And then, there were the Phantom Troupe, scattering across various regions, preparing for their next assembly.
Two months slipped by quietly.
On August 30th, at an airship terminal near Heavens Arena, Ronnel arrived early for his next mission.
"You're here early," a cold voice remarked.
Machi, a young woman with short pink-purple hair, shot Ronnel a glance before walking ahead, expressionless.
"It's my first time joining this kind of gathering," Ronnel said with a relaxed smile. "I wasn't sure how to find the exact location. Figured I'd follow someone who knows the way."
Machi didn't respond immediately.
"If you want a guide," she said dryly, "that'll cost you about 20 million Jenny. Maybe I'll even become a nun afterward."
"...Why not just rob me outright?"
Ronnel chuckled, following her onto the airship bound for Yorknew City. With the Underground Auction fast approaching, airship companies had ramped up their routes to accommodate the flood of travelers.
The airship's cabin bustled with wealthy passengers—socialites, business elites, and even middle-class families hoping to strike it rich at the auction.
As Ronnel and Machi took their seats, an unexpected encounter unfolded.
"Hey there, handsome! Care to join me for a drink?"
A short, balding, greasy middle-aged man waddled over with a lecherous grin, his eyes gleaming as he eyed Ronnel. He even stuck out his tongue slightly, licking the corner of his mouth.
Ronnel stared at the man, speechless.
"Seriously? Have I finally run into someone creepier than Hisoka?"
A cold sweat broke out across Ronnel's forehead as he regarded the man's shameless expression.
"Get lost," he muttered, his voice laced with quiet malice.
A wave of cold Nen flowed from him, snaking toward the greasy man and his accompanying bodyguards.
The man went rigid with fear. His legs buckled beneath him as he collapsed, foaming at the mouth. His terrified bodyguards hurriedly carried him away, their faces pale and drenched in sweat.
"Phew… good thing I didn't try that first!"
A middle-aged woman, her face thick with powder and foundation, heaved a sigh of relief. She patted her chest with exaggerated motions, her sagging features shifting awkwardly.
Machi gave Ronnel a sidelong glance, her expression unreadable.
"Well, it seems you're still quite popular," she muttered.
The corner of Ronnel's mouth twitched, but he didn't respond. They sat in silence for the rest of the journey until the airship landed at Yorknew City's airport in the late afternoon.
Once on the ground, Ronnel followed Machi through the bustling city streets. His goal was to observe how the Troupe found and fortified their bases.
About an hour later, as they trekked along a dirt path on the outskirts of the city, they encountered two familiar figures.
"Long time no see, Machi."
A tall man in a traditional yukata, with long hair tied in a bun and a scruffy beard, stood in their path. A katana hung from his waist, and white cloth strips were wrapped around his abdomen and ankles, evoking the image of a wandering ronin.
Beside him loomed a hulking figure with scarred skin and long earlobes adorned with large rings—a man whose menacing presence could rival a monster.
"It's been three years since our last meeting," Machi responded with her usual cold demeanor.
"Three years and two months, to be precise," a new voice added, its tone flat and emotionless.
Feitan appeared, hands casually stuffed into his pockets, his dark aura simmering beneath the surface.
"Yo, Feitan!" Nobunaga greeted with a lazy wave before his expression shifted, eyes narrowing as if sensing something unusual.
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