Chapter 1
This is you asking for death.
Hisoka carried Kortopi's head outside, just in time to meet Shalnark who had turned around to look back.
Hisoka licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, responded to Shalnark's gaze with a polite smile, and casually threw his companion's head over.
The impact was significant. Whether it was Kortopi’s death or his head hurtling toward him that shocked the Shalnark more, he was sent flying several meters back, his abdomen caving in from the collision.
Before the Shalnark could recover, Hisoka delivered a fatal blow to his head.
Machi, freed from the "Bungee Gum," witnessed the solitary figure of Shalnark swinging on the swing, eventually transforming into a rag doll similar to his mind's ability.
Hisoka aimed to make every member of the Phantom Troupe taste the bitterness of death.
In addition to the anger burning within her, Machi felt an unprecedented fear.
"Is it over?" Ilumi took the wine glass handed to him by Hisoka, his gaze fixed outside the window, where two drunks were clumsily brawling, their misaligned fists resembling jesters controlled by the "Bungee Gum."
"Why didn't you come to check on me, Ilumi?"
"No money."
"Oh—"
Ilumi turned his head, and in the dim light of the bar, Hisoka's face was barely visible, with scars almost indiscernible.
Further down, his Adam's apple, clavicle, and partially exposed chest muscles gleamed smoothly, catching Ilumi's gaze for a moment on the torn shirt.
Hisoka's gaze didn't waver from Ilumi. In fact, from the moment he entered, Hisoka had been fixating on Ilumi, aiming to suffocate him with his gaze, preferably drowning him in the swamp he had prepared, with the most graceful posture, suffocating to death, forever remaining flawless in his eyes and mind.
He knew Ilumi's sharpness would have already detected the truth he concealed behind the "thin facade," just as he had found the other party the moment he stepped into this unfamiliar bar. He was also relieved by Ilumi's intelligence, as he hadn't mentioned a word about it.
Hisoka knew it was probably a figment of his imagination, Ilumi probably just couldn't be bothered to inquire because he always chose the latter between process and outcome.
Even so, Hisoka's mind was filled with the desire to seize this understanding Ilumi and make him his own, to turn him into prey awaiting his judgment, never to appear before others again. This desire was stronger than when he first saw ripe fruit.
"Hisoka, tone down your killing intent." Ilumi stared at the wine glass in front of him, the clinking of melting ice making a crisp sound, the amber liquid becoming even clearer, yet the condensation flowing down the glass still stained with blood under the light, not sensing any change in Hisoka, Ilumi tapped on the table, "Ah, that's great, it seems Kuroro is still alive. Otherwise, if I lose such a generous client, I'll be troubled for a long time."
"Hmm... then you'd better cherish him," Hisoka tried to ignore the annoyance ignited by the phrase "that's great," "because I'll kill him sooner or later."
Ilumi once again looked at hisoka with a serious gaze, the pure black eyes reflecting the colorful neon lights outside the window, as well as devouring the darkness in the bar that made people drowsy.
Hisoka could almost see Ilumi's eyes making the most precise calculations for their owner, weighing the balance between the two clients. He was in no hurry, but rather enjoyed Ilumi's gaze.
It had to be said that Ilumi was indeed a master of manipulation, just by focusing his gaze, he made Hisoka feel like he was the only one in his eyes. Hisoka wanted to possess his bright black eyes as his own, to make them his mirror every day.
"If it's Hisoka, then there's nothing I can do." Indeed, Ilumi's decisions never disappointed Hisoka, "But, you'll have to compensate for my losses."
"Well, alright, how about Ilumi help me with one more thing?" Hisoka twirled Ilumi's long hair around his fingers, blowing air against the exposed earlobe.
"Additional charge," Ilumi still tilted his head to look at Hisoka, ignoring the mischievous fingers against his ear.
"Of course, but can't you give me a discount?"
Hisoka let Ilumi's hair slip through his fingers, occasionally brushing against the skin, stimulating his nerve endings, flowing into his heart, which had just been awakened by nen, giving it more motivation to work. Perhaps he went a bit overboard with the stimulation.
"I can't guarantee that. I've had quite a few jobs recently, and you tell me the details first?"
"Information gathering. I want to know the whereabouts of all the spiders."
Ilumi was not pleased. Although Ilumi's emotions were hardly ever expressed, Hisoka could always accurately capture any subtle fluctuations, just like picking up on the less than a millimeter raise of his eyebrow earlier.
Hisoka dedicated himself to finding the vividness on Ilumi's face, and now he had mastered it.
"Hey, Ilumi, relax. It won't take up too much of your time, you know, just keep an eye out during your spare time, and let me know if you see anything, okay?"
"You'll definitely be traveling the world for various jobs, so it won't be a hassle, right?"
Ilumi couldn't make sense of hisoka this time. He could tell the duel with Kuroro didn't go as Hisoka had expected, and he even knew that Hisoka had been quite shaken by this battle, a feeling Ilumi had sensed from the moment he first saw Hisoka today.
Whether it was Hisoka's clothes not being repaired with Nen, or the boiling rage emanating from him like scalding water, attracting the cautious observation of several reasonably strong patrons, ready to attack at any moment.
As Hisoka approached, the steam escaping from him enveloped Ilumi with searing heat, making him briefly think Hisoka had redirected his murderous intent from Kuroro to himself.
However, to his surprise, he didn't feel any sharp aggression, unlike oil droplets splattering from a frying pan; instead, it felt more like a high-temperature sauna.
But evidently, Hisoka's emotions were on the brink of collapse. Wanting to hunt down the entire troupe? It just made Ilumi think Hisoka had gone insane. As for wiping them all out? That was even crazier than before.
Not wanting to dwell on it, he focused on tracking the spiders' individual movements, although it was nearly impossible. Ilumi turned and took a sip of the rum Hisoka handed him; the ice had already melted, leaving only thin shards. As the slightly sweet liquor slid down his throat, cool like Hisoka's fingertips lingering near his ear.
"Not a hassle indeed. So, how about this? Ten million Jenny each."
"Sounds good, Ilumi. Whatever you say."
As long as you keep thinking of me in any task.
Hisoka casually tapped Ilumi's glass, finishing it in one go. The refreshing tequila instantly swept over his lips and tongue, piercing through his heart and lungs, adding another fire to his already frenzied heartbeat.
"I have to go now, I have work tonight." Ilumi swayed the glass in his hand, allowing the last remnants of ice and alcohol to blend together, taking a small sip before placing it back on the table, preparing to leave. "Hisoka..."
Ilumi's voice abruptly stopped as he saw Hisoka turn his glass in a certain direction, licking the spot where his lips had touched, then draining the remaining rum in the glass, and finally, greedily picking up the remaining drops clinging to the rim. Throughout, Hisoka kept his eyes narrowed, deliberately swallowing with an audible gulp.
Compared to the bitter taste left in his saliva by tequila, the sweetness of the rum was far more appealing. Hisoka felt it was reminiscent of the sweet and tangy scent exuded by prey after being stained with blood, calming his trembling body in excitement and warming his cold fingertips that blood couldn't reach.
Hisoka had once mocked Ilumi, a killer who preferred sweet-flavored gold rum, but when he switched the alcohol to tequila, Ilumi accepted it without a reaction. At the time, Hisoka had been proud of how deeply he influenced Ilumi.
But now, Hisoka admitted that the taste of rum was far more enticing than tequila.
"Hisoka, I'll contact you with the information." Ilumi wasn't affected by Hisoka's actions and turned to leave the bar, the wind chimes ringing behind him.
He had long been accustomed to Hisoka's eccentric behavior; he understood Manipulators well enough, especially one who had just suffered whatever blow Hisoka had taken.
He still remembered how Killua had erupted after Gon was injured, even able to remove his own nen needles; all Manipulators were like that, unpredictable yet infinitely potential. Ilumi only hoped that after tonight's drinking, Hisoka would return to normal; he didn't want to lose such a rare collaborator and conversational partner.
After Ilumi's figure disappeared from view, Hisoka quietly followed suit. The summer night breeze struck his face, a slightly cool sensation lingering on his skin, dissipating the warmth that had remained in his heart and lungs, slipping away from his lips. Hisoka hadn't contacted Ilumi since the battle with Kuroro, and now he didn't even know who his target was.
Ilumi had never lifted his "Zetsu" tonight, meaning his assassination target was a Nen user. Hisoka speculated that Ilumi must be within five blocks between the bar and the Heaven's Arena.
Thinking carefully, with four members of the Phantom Troupe appearing at the Heaven's Arena because of him, anyone with some influence wouldn't miss such an excellent assassination opportunity.
In the midst of such chaos, the Mafia would definitely not stay quiet. The newly awakened beast would surely be eager to sharpen their claws— the new Ten Dons had already begun to move, and as the former head assassin of the Ten Dons, Ilumi... Hisoka quickened his pace.
Ilumi's figure appeared and disappeared in the blink of an eye, and Hisoka suspected he was experiencing hallucinations due to exhaustion.
Stopping at the edge of the street where Ilumi disappeared, Hisoka noticed a pitch-black alleyway, surrounded by a familiar aura.
The environment here made Hisoka wary; the pedestrians passing by didn't even spare him a glance, even with his increasingly bizarre gait due to insufficient Nen. As Hisoka stepped into the alley, he knew he was in trouble.
Forced into a state of "Zetsu," his face reverted to a charred skull, and his severed hand and foot couldn't support his normal movements. But fortunately, this didn't hinder his progress because the next moment, he was teleported to a dark, damp room, where thick chains bound him, leaving him with no strength to struggle.
In Hisoka's battle with Kuroro, he had never been in such a passive state, especially after seeing the black-haired figure curled up in the corner. Overwhelming anger and fear roared within him, and he would rather die at Kuroro's hands again.
The surrounding shadows were saying something, but Hisoka paid no attention. Ilumi's figure didn't seem to be breathing. He wanted to get up and check; he couldn't believe an assassin would leave like this.
But if it was true, Hisoka would make everyone present pay the price, if he could find a way.
Reality was cruel.
The battle with Kuroro not only drained most of Hisoka's Nen, but also stripped away his once proud confidence. Now, standing beside the person he had been with the longest in his life, who was now on the brink of life and death, while he himself was struggling, crawling at the enemy's feet.
"I never expected this outcome from colluding with the Phantom Troupe!"
Hisoka's chin was lifted to face the person hiding in the shadows, their voice almost forcibly pouring into his ears. He had never missed Ilumi's calm words so much, even a simple "ah" sounded like heavenly music.
The wound on his chin, no longer held by Nen, began to bleed again, and the throat, hastily stitched by Machi, felt like it was on fire. Still, Hisoka was forced to listen to the indistinct figure speaking.
"Even with your combat skills, it's useless against overwhelming numbers."
"Don't think we're like those trash from before. Being defeated four against one by a petty thief, shameful."
The hand restraining Hisoka's chin tightened more and more, until with a "crack," his jawbone cracked. Hisoka wanted to ask something, but he couldn't even manage to say a word now, not even to give Ilumi one last look.
"I've never heard of a combatant like you keeping such lackeys. This wound doesn't seem like something from an ordinary fight."
"I saw it today, he fought their leader in the arena, that arrogant kid probably thinks his teammate is already dead."
"We should thank the head of the thieves; with him like this, we don't need to act. Leave him here, and he won't survive."
"Hey, don't forget the orders from above? Those connected, kill without mercy. We'll take their heads with us."
Hisoka couldn't speak, only a few syllables squeezed out of his throat, trying with whatever strength he had left to stop them from dismembering Ilumi's body, but it only resulted in the chains clashing together. Damn it, there was even malicious laughter in his ears.
Hisoka watched as three shadows lifted Ilumi's body and threw it in front of him like garbage.
Ha, his earlier wish had come true, but could he turn away now?
Ilumi's black cat-like eyes stared lifelessly at Hisoka, still reflecting his face as clearly as they did when he was alive. However, now his own face was disfigured, with the lower half even blurred with flesh and blood, exposing bone fragments that added a pale glow to his unfocused black pupils, flickering as if with life, allowing Hisoka to say his final goodbye in self-deception. He even saw a hint of tenderness in the corner of Ilumi's eyes.
Hisoka chuckled self-deprecatingly, revealing a smile uglier than a demon's, unable to look at other parts of Ilumi's body, only continuing to vividly portray this face that was already engraved in his heart, even if it turned into a pile of bones after death, he had to find him first.
They would both surely go to hell.
"Seen enough? Heh... Are you two lovers or something?"
As the words fell, Hisoka turned his head just as the blades descended.
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