The car crawled forward, leaving the mountains of garbage behind.
Dilapidated wooden shacks began to appear. Ragged children scavenged through trash on the roadside, while adults busied themselves with indiscernible tasks in front of their homes.
Poverty, filth, chaos.
That was Ronin's first impression of Meteor City.
"Name's Damian. I'm a private investigator." The middle-aged man driving the car introduced himself.
Ronin turned his gaze from the window back to the interior, his eyes landing on the glove compartment.
A cobra, marked with the number 5, was slithering across it. Using its tail with surprising dexterity, the snake popped the latch open.
Ronin noticed the aura wrapping around the cobra and immediately formed an assessment of Damian.
He had spotted the Ten—the defensive aura shroud—around Damian the moment he got in the car. Now, seeing the aura extended to the snake, it was clear Damian was a Manipulator.
As for the number 5 on the snake, Ronin didn't know if it meant this was the fifth snake Damian controlled, or if it held some other significance. Maybe it meant nothing at all.
"The intel you asked for is in that file. We're heading to the area where Shizuku is likely hiding."
As the car cleared the garbage heaps, Damian lit a cigarette for himself. "Mind if I smoke?"
He didn't offer one. It was just a polite heads-up.
Ronin shook his head, having no intention of taking off his mask. Under the watchful gaze of the cobra, he reached into the open glove compartment and pulled out the file.
He unwound the string sealing the envelope and tipped it over. Several photos slid out.
The photos showed a girl with short black hair and large-framed glasses, dressed in a hoodie and jeans.
Ronin recognized her instantly. It was the girl he was looking for: Shizuku.
Unfortunately, the photos didn't reveal if she had awakened her Nen yet. However, there were dried bloodstains on her clothes and even in her hair. Whether it was her blood or her enemies', he couldn't tell.
These were all candid shots, taken from a distance. But judging by the sharp look in Shizuku's eyes in the pictures, she had likely pinpointed the photographer's location the moment the shutter clicked.
Besides the photos, there were documents.
They contained background info on Shizuku and the reason she was being hunted.
Shizuku Murasaki, 16 years old.
Her father was a by-the-book doctor, and her mother was a rather attractive housewife.
This family, which seemed completely out of place in the chaotic environment of Meteor City, had met with disaster a month ago.
The "by-the-book" father had a secret life: he was a master thief. He had assassinated Spence, an Elder of the Third District.
More importantly, after the assassination, he had moved a massive stash of Spence's treasure. But during the transfer, he was spotted and identified.
The Council's "Cleaning Squad" was dispatched to hunt him down. At the same time, a group broke into the family clinic, intending to capture Shizuku and her mother to use as leverage against the father.
They also wanted to find out where the treasure was hidden.
But Spence's private soldiers wanted more than just the treasure or the thief; they wanted blood.
Shizuku's mother sacrificed herself to buy her daughter time to escape. She was tortured to death.
Ronin looked at the photos of the clinic's interior. It was a slaughterhouse. Blood and gore were splattered everywhere—evidence of the inhuman treatment Shizuku's mother had endured.
However, seven days later, Shizuku had returned to the clinic.
The Cleaning Squad and Spence's private soldiers had all vanished. The house was spotless. Every trace of the massacre had been scrubbed clean.
Ronin closed the file. "So, any news on the father?"
"None. But he's most likely dead."
Damian pulled the car over at a street corner, not driving any further. "If you want me to investigate Hiroki Murasaki, I can do that too. But that'll cost extra."
Ronin looked at the clinic not far away and replied flatly, "No need."
Neon's prophecy for him contained a specific line:
In a house surrounded by villains, you will meet the one you seek.
At first, Ronin hadn't understood what it meant. But after reading Damian's file on Shizuku, he knew exactly what he had to do.
He pushed the door open and stepped out.
"Hey, you're gonna blow your cover," Damian warned.
Neon and Kurapika stepped out from the back seat as well.
"Wait for me out here. If you spot Shizuku trying to leave, intercept her and let me know," Ronin said, already striding toward the clinic.
Although Shizuku had cleaned the place up, there were still plenty of uniformed men with guns patrolling the perimeter.
Pedestrians on the street gave the building a wide berth.
Kurapika and Neon exchanged a look. They didn't follow him. Instead, they drifted back, blending into a nearby alleyway to watch from a distance.
In the car, Damian grumbled as he watched the three of them act on impulse.
He knew anyone introduced by Hisoka would be a handful.
Despite his complaints, he didn't drive off. He kept the engine running, ready to bolt at a moment's notice, curious to see what this guy was planning to do.
He didn't have to wait long.
Ronin's direct approach immediately caught the attention of the patrol.
"Halt! You got a death wish?"
There was no polite warning. A gun barrel was pointed straight at Ronin's forehead the moment the guard spoke.
And when Ronin didn't stop immediately, the guard pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The bullet whizzed past Ronin's ear—a malicious warning shot.
"Stop right there!"
The shout from the Cleaning Squad member drew more attention. More guns were raised, aimed at Ronin, ready to fire.
The pedestrians seemed used to this. Those nearby quickened their pace to get out of the crossfire, while those further away watched with looks of gloating amusement.
Ronin didn't stop walking. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins.
Bang!
The gunshots rang out again.
But the bullets never reached him. They were knocked out of the air by the coins Ronin flicked. The coins didn't lose momentum; they punched through the guns and buried themselves into the shooters' bodies.
Ronin didn't have enough coins for the volume of fire coming his way. So, after flicking the first few, he simply raised his hand.
He snatched the bullets out of the air!
Between his Enhancer aura and the physical conditioning he'd undergone over the last few months, small-caliber bullets couldn't even scratch him.
He rolled the bullets in his hand, positioning them between his thumb and forefinger.
Snap!
He flicked them back. They flew faster than when they had been fired.
Ronin walked past the falling bodies of the Cleaning Squad members and reached the clinic door.
He pushed it open.
The moment the door cracked, a blade wrapped in aura slashed down at his head!