Let's join!" With a smile, Rimo stood and extended his right hand toward Chrollo.
Just now, after hearing about Chrollo's discussion with the elder, Rimo subconsciously began analyzing the pros and cons again.
After a long internal calculation, he suddenly realized something. What if there were already some sort of deal between the Phantom Troupe and the elders of Meteor Street?
Rimo had joined the Troupe not for monetary gain, but for the potential to leverage its strength—and the satisfaction he derived from it—in the future.
In that case, whether a deal existed between Chrollo and the elders was irrelevant to him. That matter would be handled by Chrollo himself.
His only concern was that Chrollo should never hold coercive power over him.
As for participation in future Troupe operations, Rimo would simply follow the situation, deciding based on his own judgment.
Realizing this, he felt a brief emptiness, almost dumbfounded.
Sometimes, he relied too much on his past cognition, exhausting his own vitality in analysis—forgetting that he was practically immortal. Living for a few thousand years meant he didn't need to act according to outdated patterns. Life would be far too dull otherwise.
From now on, he would consider only his own satisfaction.
After Rimo's affirmative nod, Chrollo also rose with a gentle smile and grasped Rimo's extended hand.
"Welcome," he said simply.
"Alright, since we are teammates from now on, let me introduce myself again," Rimo continued, voice calm yet confident. "Rimo, Manipulator Nen, ability: Material Manifestation."
Hearing this, Chrollo smiled and reintroduced himself: "Chrollo. Nen trait: Specialist. Ability… still undeveloped."
Others followed suit.
"Pike Nuotan. Nen trait: Emitter. Ability undeveloped."
"Machi. Conjurer Nen. Ability: Mind Line."
"Franklin. Transmuter Nen. Ability undeveloped."
"Uvogin. Enhancer Nen. Ability: Super Destruction Fist."
"Feitan. Conjurer Nen. Ability undeveloped."
"Nobunaga. Enhancer Nen. Ability: Iai—Drawing Sword."
Phantom Troupe—officially established.
After the introductions, the team developed a tentative cohesion.
"Chrollo," Rimo said, sitting back, "since we'll be active in the outside world, have you thought of a name for our group?"
Chrollo nodded thoughtfully. "Meteor Street is invisible to the outside world. It is fitting to call ourselves Phantom… Phantom Troupe."
Everyone found the name unexpectedly fitting, nodding silently.
"My assumption," Chrollo continued, "is that the Troupe will be limited to thirteen members. No more, no less. It won't feel bloated, yet can handle most situations. I will also tattoo a mark on each member, which should enhance our cohesion. Thoughts?"
Uvogin shrugged, unconcerned: "Doesn't matter. I follow Rimo."
Machi and Nobunaga echoed his attitude. In theory, all were members of the Troupe, but in reality, their attention gravitated to Rimo. Chrollo noticed this subtle shift, his eyes flickering slightly.
Pike Nuotan and Franklin were convinced by Chrollo's reasoning, offering no objection.
Feitan's stance was straightforward: "Let me handle killing the self-righteous idiots outside. You can sort out the rest."
All that remained was Rimo's opinion.
"I like it," Rimo said thoughtfully. "How about using spiders as a motif? Spiders are top predators on Meteor Street. If we venture outside, we must dominate there as well."
"Twelve legs for twelve members. The spider's head will be you, Chrollo. Members can be numbered. What do you think? Chrollo… or rather, the leader."
Rimo's proposal gave him an unfamiliar joy, reminiscent of fighting a Gundam—strategizing, building cohesion, and asserting leadership.
Chrollo couldn't help but feel a quiet confidence in Rimo. Any newly formed team needed someone to take the first step to inspire investment—but it couldn't be the official leader. That would feel imposed.
Rimo's title as "head" was crucial—not for Chrollo's authority, but because only Rimo's initiative could unify the others. Everyone could see that Rimo was stronger than Chrollo, and Meteor Street respected strength above all. Uvogin and the others had already been aligned with Rimo. Cooperation from him was key.
Rimo's suggestions—the coin toss, the spider motif, the numbering—struck Chrollo precisely. His heart stirred with a rare sense of admiration.
"Perfect," Chrollo thought.
When Rimo described the spider motif, everyone pictured it and nodded. It fit seamlessly.
"Alright. The twelve legs will represent members numbered one to twelve. The leader may be zero or thirteen, or unnumbered, leaving only the spider's head. Tattoos will follow. Any objections?"
No one objected.
Chrollo stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Thirteen… I'll take thirteen. Others can pick freely."
Rimo immediately chose number one.
Feitan glanced at him. "Then I'll be number two," he said, treating numbers as a hierarchy.
Uvogin grinned: "I'll be number eleven, your sidekick, one."
Nobunaga leaned over: "I'll be number ten, to keep you in check."
"What?!" Uvogin barked at Nobunaga, and they bickered briefly.
Machi, irritated, said coldly, "Number three."
Pike Nuotan, after careful thought: "Number nine."
Franklin, the oldest and calmest, picked number seven.
Chrollo then turned to Machi: "Since everyone has picked, can you handle the tattoos?"
Aware of Machi's micro-manipulation sensitivity, Chrollo trusted her to apply them precisely.
"No problem, Captain," Machi replied, glancing at Rimo.
Chrollo's smile broadened. "One last proposal. Rimo… would you consider being deputy head of the Troupe?"