Kisho listened to Chrollo's words without much reaction.
Or rather, he didn't know what kind of reaction he should have.
Sure enough, people do change—hard to imagine that in less than a year since he entered this world, he had already changed to the point of barely recognizing himself.
Someone patted his shoulder, pulling him back to his senses.
Partly because the person approaching had no hostility, and partly because he had been lost in thought.
Kisho turned his head.
Standing beside him, Shalnark looked as if nothing had happened, his face showing no trace of resentment. He smiled and said:
"You're serious about this, huh."
Kisho looked to the other side at Chrollo.
"Wasn't it the leader who said, 'Death isn't necessary, but it's not impossible either'?"
At Kisho's discord-sowing remark, Chrollo merely smiled it off.
The fight was over, and there was nothing left to watch.
One by one, everyone returned to that three-story crumbling building.
...
Kisho still stood where he was, unmoving.
He felt utterly muddled inside, as if countless thoughts were all drilling into his head at once; yet his mind was completely blank, not stirred in the slightest by these tangled threads.
"Hey."
Shalnark slung an arm around Kisho's shoulders and said:
"What are you standing there dumbfounded for? Let's go."
After returning to the building, everyone went back to whatever they had been doing. Chrollo, meanwhile, stood in front of his sofa, looking at Kisho who had been brought in by Shalnark.
"You've met everyone in the Troupe."
He paused, then said:
"Ah, right. Number Four, whom you didn't meet last time, will be back in a few days. I'll introduce you then."
Kisho: "...Oh."
"Now I can tell you the rules of the Troupe."
Chrollo didn't mind Kisho's indifferent response and spoke slowly:
"The rules are simple."
"First: during missions, the leader's orders take priority above all else. Members, as the spider's legs, must obey completely."
He smiled.
"But this rule only applies during missions; it doesn't include life-and-death crisis situations. So there's no need to put my life above all else."
Hearing Chrollo's added explanation, Kisho was slightly taken aback.
"Second: members are not allowed to kill each other. If there's a conflict, resolve it by flipping a coin."
As he spoke, he tossed something toward Kisho.
Kisho raised his hand and caught it—it was a coin stamped with a spider pattern.
"That's all."
Chrollo sat back down on the sofa, lazily picking up the book beside him.
"When the Troupe has no activities, members can stay at the base or act freely. Just leave contact information."
Hearing this, Kisho spoke up:
"Do all members have to participate in Troupe activities?"
Chrollo's gaze shifted from the book to Kisho.
"You have a problem?"
"If the target of the activity is people like the mafia, I can accept that."
Kisho said calmly:
"But I still refuse to casually attack ordinary people."
"Oh?"
Chrollo seemed to hear something interesting. As if discussing an academic issue, he calmly asked:
"Once you've become the spider's prey, is there really a need to distinguish what kind of prey it is?"
"For me, there is."
Kisho shrugged.
"This is my bottom line."
Even if others thought it laughable to talk about bottom lines with spiders, so what?
Even if he had already killed many people, even if he had to kill to survive.
This was something he had decided long before coming back.
"Hmm..."
Chrollo covered his mouth and pondered.
It was the first time someone had said something like this in front of him—after all, things like bottom lines, which only tie one's own hands, are things everyone from Meteor City would discard without hesitation.
And though Kisho seemed to be standing there calmly waiting for an answer, his body was tightly tensed. If Chrollo gave the order and the members attacked together, he would instantly switch Noah Barton out and bolt—
Even if he couldn't escape, he would at least struggle before dying.
Chrollo lowered his hand, his gaze falling on Kisho's face, and smiled slightly.
Kisho spoke as if facing a great enemy:
"Leader, you did say members can't kill each other."
Chrollo smiled.
"Without a spider tattoo, you're not a true member yet."
Kisho: "...?"
"But I agree to your request."
Chrollo said slowly:
"You don't have to participate in such activities—but you must provide your Nen ability badge as support."
He smiled gently.
"—That's my condition."
There was no need to force a spider leg that might disobey orders during missions to participate, lest it run in the opposite direction at a critical moment.
After all, what the Troupe needed had never been anything but Kisho's ability.
Kisho frowned slightly.
"Provide my Nen ability?"
"Although it's different from what was originally envisioned, it's probably the best condition that can be achieved."
"At least, I won't have to personally lay hands on innocent people."
He slowly nodded.
Chrollo smiled.
In his hand, his Nen book materialized. He glanced at Kisho, flipped the book open to a certain page, and then wiped his hand across it.
While doing so, he even muttered:
"...I don't really want to give it back to you."
Kisho remained silently wordless as he felt a power that had left him for far too long return to his body.
Too long—so long that he had even begun to doubt whether this power truly belonged to him.
The Nen that returned to his body resonated strangely with the two instruments in the Nen book.
Kisho's eyes widened slightly. He clearly sensed that a third movement had appeared in his book.
He fell silent for a moment, as if thinking of something, then took a stone out of his pocket and tossed it to Chrollo.
"Last time before I left, I said I owed you money and would pay it back. Do you think this thing is enough to settle the debt?"
The debt referred to a month's worth of expired canned food and expired mineral water, as well as the medical fees for Machi sewing his arm back up.
Chrollo caught it and examined the water-blue stone.
"Liquid titanium ore, one of the Seven Beauties."
He smiled and looked at Kisho.
"It's enough—more than enough, actually."
Kisho shrugged indifferently.
"As long as it's enough. I don't want the extra. No need to give change."
He paused, then asked:
"Leader, you just said that when there's no activity, we can move freely, right?"
"—So can I leave now?"
"I'm afraid not."
Chrollo smiled.
"I told you before to return to Meteor City before August because in August, the Troupe has a mission that requires full participation."
Kisho: "..."
He suddenly had the illusion that he had to work overtime the moment he took office.
"And members need tattoos."
Chrollo continued:
"You can do it yourself. If you don't know how, you can also ask Machi to help you."
At Chrollo's words, Machi, who was playing cards, looked over at the two of them, expressionless.
Kisho's expression froze.
Doing it himself was out of the question—what he'd tattoo wouldn't be a spider, but some alien monstrosity.
He met Machi's gaze.
"Please."
"Sure."
Machi agreed crisply. She stood up and, without the slightest regard for camaraderie, named an astronomical price:
"The fee is five million."
"...Put it on my tab for now."