Of the three names Rimo had just weighed in his mind, Pakunoda was the easiest to dismiss.
There was no need to fantasize.
By this point in time, Pakunoda had already become one of the Spider's legs. As a core member trusted enough to carry memory bullets during the Yorknew incident and entrusted with Chrollo's secrets even under Kurapika's threat, her loyalty was unquestionable.
There was no "recruiting" her.
As for the remaining two—
Shizuku.
Rimo searched his memory carefully.
The original material never elaborated much on Shizuku's childhood. The only confirmed facts were that she was from Meteor City and that she joined the Phantom Troupe to replace a previous member who had been killed by Silva Zoldyck during an earlier clash between the Troupe and the Zoldyck family.
She had a relatively good relationship with Franklin and demonstrated strong trust toward Chrollo Lucilfer, even calmly accepting his disappearance after Kurapika sealed his Nen.
Which meant one thing.
Either she had been recommended internally—most likely by Franklin—or directly selected by Chrollo after evaluation.
Meteor City's population was in the millions. A lawless landfill nation unrecognized by the V5. Finding one specific girl there without prior contact?
Unrealistic.
And Rimo had no interest in sifting through ruins and scrap mountains hoping for destiny.
If fate played out as before, Shizuku would naturally enter the Spider's web.
So recruiting her independently was equally impossible.
The same logic applied to Shalnark.
Without joining the Phantom Troupe, Rimo would never gain consistent access to their abilities or cooperation.
Which brought the thinking back to the core issue.
What would he lose by joining?
After careful thought—
Very little.
The Phantom Troupe operated on only two absolute rules.
First: the survival of the Spider outweighed the survival of its head. If the leader died, another leg would become the new head.
Second: internal disagreements were resolved by majority vote, and in some cases, by coin toss.
Even during the Yorknew operation, only available members participated. Machi had once told Hisoka that "not everyone is free," implying that large-scale mobilization required circumstance, not blind obedience.
The Troupe was not a cult.
It was a structure built on shared will and violence.
If Chrollo ever crossed a line Rimo could not tolerate—
He would simply kill him and walk away.
Strength dictated authority.
Uvogin's brute dominance, Nobunaga's blade, Machi's threads—all operated under that unspoken law.
Rimo had no doubt that if conflict erupted internally, Machi, Uvogin, and Nobunaga would stand beside him.
So what remained?
Reputation.
But reputation in this world was almost comedic.
The Zoldyck family, the world's most infamous assassin household, openly turned Kukuroo Mountain into a tourist attraction complete with guided tours to the Testing Gate.
Neither the Hunter Association nor the V5 coalition had ever attempted eradication.
Those who challenged the Zoldycks did so for fame, revenge, or greed.
Rarely for "justice."
Justice, in this world, was elastic.
Meteor City itself proved that morality was contextual. "We accept anything you leave here, but don't ever take anything from us." That was their creed.
The more Rimo studied psychology in his previous life, the more he realized how fragile the concept of morality was.
Humans created moral systems—then allowed those systems to judge them.
Good and evil were linguistic constructs.
Majority approval defined "good."
Majority rejection defined "evil."
But majority opinion was driven by interest.
Interest did not mean only money.
It included satisfaction, pride, belonging, emotional validation.
A person helped others and felt fulfilled.
Another harmed someone and felt exhilarated.
Someone earned money and felt accomplished.
In the end, the ultimate human pursuit was pleasure.
Everything—from eating and sleeping to risking one's life for ideals—terminated in the same endpoint.
Pleasure.
Ancient sages were clever. By linking altruism to internal satisfaction, they constructed moral systems that stabilized society.
Helping others feels good.
Doing good is praised.
Praise reinforces behavior.
Order emerges.
So the question was simple.
Would joining the Spider make Rimo feel pleasure?
The corner of his mouth curved slowly.
"Let's meet him."
Uvogin snorted approval.
Nobunaga nodded once.
Machi said nothing—but her eyes softened for a fraction of a second.
"Chrollo said," Machi added, "if you decide to meet him, he'll be at Block 13. Or we can send word and have him come here. He'll wait."
Rimo raised a brow.
Chrollo's posture was lower than expected.
Interesting.
"Let's go to him," Rimo decided after a moment. "No need to waste time making him travel."
"Alright."
He glanced at the sky.
He had awakened around mid-afternoon after five days of seclusion. Between sparring, explanation, and internal analysis, time had slipped by.
The sun was nearly gone.
"Forget it. Tomorrow. Let's eat first."
At the word "eat," Uvogin instantly perked up.
"Hey! Rimo! That fire thing… the pot one!"
Rimo had barely stocked the refrigerator during his seclusion. The food left behind was passable, but compared to the meals he personally prepared—
It was lacking.
Uvogin, now thoroughly spoiled, practically drooled.
"Idiot. It's called hot pot."
"Yeah! That! Hot pot!"
Rimo laughed. "Fine. I haven't eaten properly in five days either."
"Long live Rimo!"
Nobunaga smirked faintly.
Behind them, Machi watched the scene quietly.
She had once considered leaving Meteor City the first chance she got. Chrollo had approached them before Rimo's arrival, proposing the formation of a group—promising methods to negotiate permission from the Elders to leave the junkyard nation.
She had been tempted.
Freedom was a powerful lure.
But she had not agreed immediately.
Then Rimo appeared.
Now, if meeting Chrollo was Rimo's decision, she would support it without hesitation.
She only hoped—
That this meeting would not disturb the fragile warmth she had begun to cherish.
Her eyes briefly turned cold, threads of Nen faintly trembling at her fingertips.
Chrollo Lucilfer.
If you threaten my present happiness—
Even a Spider's head can be cut.