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American Fast & Furious NSFW
America's #1 Scumbag NSFW
Kurapika thought back to the scene in Room 1801 when he had confronted Chrollo. He recalled the question he had thrown at the man, and even more vividly, Chrollo's answer.
His Scarlet Eyes burned with an even more intense brilliance.
Kurapika had never imagined a person could speak of slaughtering others as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It felt as if, in Chrollo's eyes, the Kurta Clan weren't even people—just a batch of cargo that provided some value to him.
He also brought up the message left behind in the Kurta village.
But Chrollo had just stared at him, offering no answer.
Kurapika had looked up the source of that quote. It was from Meteor City, the place where most of the Phantom Troupe members were born.
We reject no one, so take nothing from us.
But why did the Phantom Troupe leave that specific message in the village?
Kurapika couldn't wrap his head around it. Even if he found out the reason, he would never forgive the Phantom Troupe, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was a secret hidden in those words. More importantly, he wanted to know how the Phantom Troupe had found the village in the first place!
Even though the Kurta village wasn't exactly invisible, it wasn't the kind of place you just stumbled upon.
The clan members rarely left the village, only venturing to nearby cities for essential supplies. They spent the vast majority of their time living within the village, which minimized the risk of exposure.
Plus, even if they did leave, they interacted with outsiders in a normal state. They never revealed their Scarlet Eyes lightly. It was almost impossible for anyone to pinpoint that the people living in that hidden village were the legendary Kurta.
Yet, the Phantom Troupe had found them. They came prepared, massacred the clan, and gouged out every single pair of Scarlet Eyes.
Kurapika was terrified of one possibility.
That he was the reason the village was exposed.
He was the last person to leave the village before the massacre, and prior to that, he had exposed his Scarlet Eyes in a nearby town.
Kurapika's scarlet eyes looked like they were about to bleed. If it really was because of him—
"Penny for your thoughts? You're zoning out."
Ronin's hand landed on Kurapika's shoulder. "Go get cleaned up and hit the hay. It's late."
Kurapika looked up, meeting Ronin's concerned smile.
"Oh... right. Okay." He shook off the chaotic thoughts in his head and stood up to head toward the bathroom. But halfway there, he turned back. "Big Brother Ronin, if the Phantom Troupe found the village because of me..."
"You really trying to shoulder that blame all by yourself?"
Ronin stood up and flicked his finger toward Kurapika's forehead from a distance. "Once someone set their sights on the Scarlet Eyes, what happened that night was inevitable. If you want to blame something, blame the fact that we weren't strong enough to stop it!"
As he finished speaking, a small bullet of aura gently tapped Kurapika's forehead.
"Ouch!" Kurapika rubbed his slightly red forehead. But strangely, his gaze became firmer. He seemed to understand something. "I get it."
---
The Yorknew Auction ran for seven days.
The Phantom Troupe's "death" had been debunked—mostly because those guys couldn't sit still and kept pulling jobs just a few days later.
Kurapika poured money into the Hunter website, increasing the bounties on the Phantom Troupe members. He also uploaded a massive amount of intel on them.
He doxxed them completely—names, faces, abilities, behavioral logic, the works. He packaged it all into different clearance levels of intelligence and posted it online.
The names and mugshots were free for anyone to view.
Judging by the backgrounds in the photos, it wasn't hard to tell that some were taken at the Atour Hotel, while others were snapped in Southernpiece.
In the Yorknew Underground Auction, there were even active bids for information on the Troupe members' locations.
Kurapika was leveraging every resource he had to make the Troupe's life a living hell, hoping to force them into a mistake or get them picked off one by one.
But the results were pretty underwhelming.
Ronin saw this coming. If the Phantom Troupe were pushovers, they wouldn't have remained Class-A bounties—living large all over the world—for this long.
Just look at the current situation.
Based on feedback from various channels, the Troupe had likely chosen to go underground and stockpile their strength, exactly as Kurapika had predicted.
Chrollo, the brain of the operation, was just too sharp.
On September 7th, Ronin escorted Neon to Southernpiece.
This was the final test, according to Kurapika's plan. If the Troupe had really scattered, this trip would be incident-free.
When Ronin took his seat at the auction, he didn't sense any danger... until a red-headed young man sat down next to him.
He wasn't wearing his usual eccentric clown getup, nor did he have the face paint on.
Hisoka was dressed in a sharp, crisp suit, sitting right there beside him.
His voice carried a magnetic rasp, barely hiding his excitement. "Ronin. Or should I say... Kakashi Hatake. Found you."
"Yeah? You need something?" Ronin's body tensed slightly, ready to throw down at a moment's notice.
He wasn't surprised that Hisoka had figured out "Kakashi Hatake" was him.
"Relax." Hisoka turned his head away, focusing his gaze on the auction stage ahead. "I think you already know why I'm here."
"A partnership?" Ronin asked.
"Correct." Hisoka looked a bit distressed. "Your existence has the entire Phantom Troupe jumping at shadows. Aside from killing the pests clinging to Chrollo, I can't think of another way to isolate him for a one-on-one duel."
"You really think I'm going to hand a prime catch like Chrollo over to you?" Ronin didn't agree. Instead, he threw a question back.
Chrollo was actually pretty good.
Especially according to Kurapika, Chrollo had left specifically to find a counter to Ronin's abilities. That just made Ronin look forward to their next meeting even more.
The opponent was out there prepping specific countermeasures. Why would he swap out now and let Hisoka take the stage?
Whether Hisoka could win or not, Ronin would feel a sense of regret deep down.
He wanted to kill Chrollo himself!
Not for revenge. Maybe it was just purely to enjoy the thrill of fighting a top-tier opponent.
Hisoka's aura spiked, turning dangerous.
"If that's the case, how about we fight? Winner takes all. The victor earns the right to enjoy the battle with Chrollo." Hisoka issued his invitation.
Chrollo was good, sure.
But honestly, Ronin thought Hisoka was pretty sweet too.
Hisoka turned his head, his narrowed, phoenix-like eyes locking onto Ronin. There was greed, excitement, and anticipation in that look.
"How about Heaven's Arena?" Ronin didn't refuse. In fact, he looked at Hisoka with the same predatory gaze Hisoka used on his targets—pure aggression.
Chrollo was good.
But Hisoka wasn't half bad either!