Yorknew City.
Inside a cheap hotel, Kurapika stared at Hyūga Akira with an ugly expression.
"You stole Neon's prophecy ability!!"
The moment Akira vanished, Neon lost her power of prophecy.
Who took it was obvious.
Now the entire Mafia was searching for Hyūga Akira—alive.
This wasn't just offending the Nostrade family.
It was provoking the entire underworld.
Kurapika couldn't understand how Akira could act so recklessly.
Among Neon's former clients were even members of the Ten Dons—figures who could mobilize the whole Mafia world with a single order.
Akira, sitting casually by the window, glanced at the chaotic crowd gathering below and showed not the slightest hint of concern.
"Don't get so worked up," he said lightly. "I didn't steal it. I exchanged for it. I even gave Neon a new ability."
If used properly, that clone ability could very well save her life.
Kurapika ground his teeth. "They only want that ability. What exactly are you trying to do?"
A clone couldn't compare to prophecy.
The Mafia had no use for a Nen user who could merely create duplicates.
"Because of the Spiders," Akira replied, smiling as he took out a stack of wanted posters.
Every member of the Phantom Troupe was a world-class criminal.
"Spiders…?" Kurapika's expression changed instantly. "You know their information?"
That was the entire reason he had joined a Mafia family—to use their intelligence network to track down the Phantom Troupe.
"They're going to attack this auction," Akira said calmly. "How about we cooperate?"
From the prophecy poem alone, it was obvious that Kurapika would end up working with him anyway.
Kurapika's eyes turned a brilliant crimson. "How?"
"You want to completely annihilate the Phantom Troupe, don't you?" Akira countered.
Kurapika's existence revolved entirely around revenge.
Without waiting for an answer, Akira continued, his voice low and steady.
"I can help you. But in exchange, you're free to torture and interrogate them as much as you like—their lives, however, must be mine."
As long as no other "players" stole his kills, Akira would receive the full rewards.
Kurapika's face darkened. He didn't want to agree.
What he wanted was to personally deliver the killing blow.
"On your own, you can't destroy the Phantom Troupe," Akira said quietly.
"They're the kind of group that keeps moving even after losing its head. Killing the leader won't end it…"
Kurapika clenched his fists hard.
"You have to wipe them out—every single one."
"…And you can't do that alone."
The red in Kurapika's eyes burned even brighter, a sign of his emotions spiraling out of control. At last, he spoke with difficulty:
"If it means completely erasing them… then fine."
If the entire Phantom Troupe could be destroyed, surrendering the final kill was something he could endure.
"Information," Kurapika said heavily. He needed intelligence.
"They'll attack this auction," Akira said, idly twirling a kunai.
"I'll switch identities and work with the Mafia. Your job is to capture one of them—and keep your identity hidden."
"…Alright."
The moment Kurapika agreed, Akira suddenly flicked several shuriken straight at him.
Threads burst into existence, intercepting the shuriken midair.
A tall, slender man walked in through the doorway, stepping past Kurapika as if he weren't even there, and stopped in front of Akira.
"So you're the one who stole the prophecy ability?" the man said lazily.
"You look pretty weak."
Akira bared his teeth in a wide, unsettling grin.
"Remember this."
The plaster on the wall beside them suddenly peeled away, revealing surfaces densely covered in strange symbols.
In the shinobi world, these were called explosive tags.
"BOOM!!!"
A violent flash of fire erupted, swallowing the entire room.
When the flames faded, thick smoke poured outward.
Kurapika was thrown against the wall by the shockwave.
[Experience: 1456]
[Skill Acquired: Flowing Water Crushing Rock Fist]
A skill from the One Punch Man world.
"What happened!?"
"Where did the fight come from!?"
"Where's Mr. Spider!?"
A swarm of Mafia members rushed up, weapons drawn. They spared Kurapika only a brief glance before ignoring him—he was known as a Nostrade bodyguard, likely here to capture a wanted criminal.
From the smoke-filled room, a pale, gaunt youth emerged, his eyes cold.
"I'm here," he said. "That guy escaped—some kind of instantaneous movement. Can't catch him."
"But it's not like we gained nothing."
He waved a sheet of paper in his hand, smiling darkly.
"Looks like we're being watched by quite a few people."
No one dared ask what was written on the paper.
This man was a member of the Shadow Beasts.
Only Kurapika felt something was off. He stared deeply at the man known as Spider.
Spider returned a faint smile. White threads flickered around his fingers, gleaming like steel wire.
Without another word, he turned and left with the Mafia.
"…A different identity," Kurapika murmured, eyes flashing.
The auction controlled by the Nostrade family began as scheduled.
Although Neon had lost her prophecy ability, the event had already been set in motion. There was no time to find a replacement.
The auction would proceed under Nostrade control.
What came afterward was anyone's guess—but everyone knew the Nostrade family's good days were numbered.
At the auction venue, every bodyguard and enforcer was in position.
Light Nostrade had gone all in. He would not allow anything to disrupt this auction.
Inside the hall, elites from every field gathered—Mafia bosses, tycoons, and influential figures. The items mattered, but for many, this was also a chance to build connections.
As the atmosphere reached its peak—
A short figure and a tall figure stepped onto the host's platform.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the short man said with a chilling smile, "thank you for attending."
The hall fell silent.
"Now then," he continued softly,
"it seems there's no need for formalities…"
The man behind him spread his arms toward the crowd.
"Everyone—die."
"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat—"
The slaughter began.
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