"Auntie Bi, long time no see. How are you doing?"
"Do I look okay?" Bisky shook her right shoulder. The short sleeve of her frilly dress was completely empty, the fabric snapping softly in the brisk rooftop wind. She glared at Liam, her voice laced with deep irritation.
Up on the desolate concrete rooftop, only Liam and Shizuku had come to greet her. The heavy steel door to the stairwell was shut tight, giving them complete privacy. There was no need for discretion here.
Liam let his casual smile fade, his brow furrowing as he looked at the missing limb. "Shizuku and I were thrown out by that ghost DICE back on Greed Island. We each landed near something heavily related to the Dark Continent. Bisky, what about you? What exactly happened that could actually take your right arm?"
Bisky let out a long, heavy sigh, the tension leaving her small shoulders. "It is just an arm. Honestly, I am lucky. Thanks to the Seventy-Two Transformations talisman you threw over right when we were separated, I finally managed to lie low and recover for a while until Netero found me."
Her innate Nen ability could essentially function as a perpetual motion machine for rejuvenation. As long as there was not a massive difference in her body shape before and after her transformation, the aura consumption of the talisman per second could not outpace her own natural recovery rate.
But Liam could not help but wonder what the hell she had encountered that could force a monster like Bisky to hide away in fear after losing an arm.
"Is there really such a fierce monster lurking somewhere in Meteor City?" Liam asked, his voice thick with doubt.
According to the logic he knew from the Chimera Ant arc of the manga, the Phantom Troupe essentially represented the peak tier of combat power within Meteor City. The city elders had been so utterly overwhelmed by the mutant ants that they had to call the Spiders back home just to clean up the mess. How could this place suddenly operate like some cheap training novel where peerless, hidden masters lurked behind every corner? What, was there some Supreme Elder hiding in the junk piles? A hermit grandmaster sweeping the ash-covered floors?
Bisky gave him a strange, sideways look. "You said it yourself. We were transported by the chaotic game mechanics of Greed Island directly to the vicinity of unknown, highly dangerous things related to the Dark Continent. Why do you subconsciously assume it was some hidden local master who cut off my arm?"
Liam choked, suddenly realizing the massive flaw in his own logic.
Shizuku stood nearby, hugging her vacuum cleaner. She blinked her large eyes and offered mildly, "Liam probably thinks that in a lawless, chaotic place like Meteor City, the most dangerous things around are naturally the people living in it."
Seeing that the bespectacled girl's expression was as calmly detached as usual, Bisky let out a short, genuine smile. "People who are not familiar with you might think you are actively mocking Liam for looking at Meteor City with such heavy prejudice."
"Why?" Shizuku tilted her head in genuine surprise. "This is indeed exactly how Meteor City is viewed by the entire outside world."
Bisky gave a noncommittal hum, her eyes drifting away. She suddenly noticed Liam staring intently at her empty right sleeve. Without warning, he reached his hand out, aiming to grab the flapping fabric. Bisky swayed her weight slightly, moving with fluid grace to completely avoid his grasp.
"What do you think you are doing!" Bisky snapped sharply. In a blur of motion, she lifted her leg and brought her small shoe down hard, stepping firmly onto Liam's extended forearm and pinning it to the air.
Liam let out a dry, awkward laugh, not trying to pull his trapped arm away. "I just want to observe how fast the missing arm is going to regenerate. Cannot blame a guy for being curious."
Shizuku leaned forward, her eyes widening slightly. "Bisky already has a Star Mark?"
Bisky coughed lightly, a faint pink dusting her cheeks. She opened her mouth to reply, but her expression suddenly hardened into something deadly. The playful atmosphere vanished instantly. She looked up toward the upper access structure of the roof, her eyes narrowing into cold slits. "Sneaky bastard. Still so arrogant."
Sensing the sudden shift in the air, Liam quickly looked back over his shoulder.
Perched silently on the very edge of the rooftop access housing was a burly, imposing figure with a mane of messy white hair. He crouched there perfectly still, looking exactly like a massive lion lying in wait, gazing down at the three of them with a leisurely, unblinking stare.
When did Silva arrive? Liam swallowed hard. The man was truly elusive, masking his presence entirely until he chose to be seen.
Silva did not seem the least bit annoyed by Bisky's sharp sarcasm. His deep, rumbling voice carried easily over the wind. "You are getting younger as you age. That is certainly new." He did not wait for Bisky's reaction, shifting his heavy gaze directly to Liam. "The deal is done."
With a slow, deliberate nod, Silva's body seemed to lose its substance, leaving behind a dark, wavering shadow on the concrete ledge. His true form was already completely gone. Seconds later, the lingering shadow dissipated into the wind like smoke.
The deal is done. Liam stood frozen in mild surprise.
Shizuku raised her head, staring at the empty ledge with intense curiosity. "What kind of Nen ability does he have? Every time he switches places with his clone, there is no physical sign at all."
Bisky kept her eyes locked on the spot where Silva's shadow had vanished, her voice dropping into a low, serious register. "Emission type. It is called Shadow Dancer. After releasing the Nen beasts, Silva's true body is perfectly hidden among all the active Shadow Dancers, and he can swap his physical position with any of them at absolutely any time."
Liam calculated the terrifying logistics in his head. He wondered just how far Silva had scattered these so-called Shadow Dancers throughout the sprawling ruins of the city over the past few days. It had to be a radius of at least dozens of kilometers. Exactly what monstrous level of mastery had Silva reached in his Emission training to maintain that?
Shizuku tapped her chin. "Why does Bisky know so much about his hidden techniques?"
Bisky remained silent for a long moment, the wind whipping her frilly skirt around her knees. "The name Zoldyck is known and feared throughout the entire underground world," she said calmly. "In my prime time, this Silva Zoldyck was truly a formidable rival among all his peers."
Liam nodded slowly, taking in the heavy lore, before he glanced down at his pinned arm. "Auntie, when you are done nostalgically reminiscing about the bloody past, could you please get your foot off my arm?"
Bisky rolled her eyes dramatically. She jumped down lightly, releasing his arm. With her left hand, she reached over and lifted her right sleeve, finally revealing the stump of her broken arm perfectly severed right at the shoulder joint. The wound was eerily flat and smooth, as if she had been cleanly cleaved by an impossibly sharp blade.
Right on the cross-section of the shoulder tissue, a faintly glowing, rose-gold pentagram pattern was deeply etched into her flesh.
However, the smooth center of the wound was currently bulging outward in a deeply unsettling, fleshy mound that looked like something pulled straight from a late-night horror movie. From the center of that pulsing mound, a tiny, embryonic baby-like hand had already pushed its way out into the cold air.
The pale little baby hand squirmed blindly, its tiny fingers flexing as the bone and muscle slowly continued to grow and extrude from the stump.
Shizuku stared at it with strange fascination, leaning closer and closer until her face was mere inches from the squirming fingers. It was also the first time Liam, under his alias of Rock Bird, had actually observed the physical effects of his own Star Mark at such a close, intimate range. The sight was so bizarrely captivating that he subconsciously stretched out an index finger to poke the tiny hand.
Bisky let out an annoyed grunt and viciously slapped his hand away with her good arm.
Liam pulled his stinging hand back. He looked up, his gaze suddenly drifting away from the rooftop entirely. His eyes clouded over, looking unfocused and deeply absent-minded as he sensed a massive shift in aura from afar.
"Seems like the winner has been decided," Liam murmured into the wind.
"What decision?" Bisky asked, pulling her sleeve back down to hide the disturbing regeneration.
"He should be referring to Kurapika's battle," Shizuku answered smoothly.
Before Bisky could even ask who Kurapika was, Liam had already turned his back and leaped from the rooftop, rushing toward the source of the dying aura.
Deep within the chaotic, ruined interior of the city's exhibition hall, the air was thick with the copper stench of fresh blood and scorched stone. Thick red droplets fell in a steady rhythm from the jagged teeth of the heavy chainsaw hanging loosely from the sleeve of the floating spirit, Jade.
Just a few paces away, the wide, elegant sleeves of a traditional robe floated silently behind Kurapika, contrasting sharply with the utter devastation around him.
When Liam finally walked through the shattered entrance, his footsteps crunching softly on the debris, Jade drifted silently over to his side. With a sharp, practiced flick of her flowing sleeves, the blood-stained chainsaw vanished into thin air. The conjured weapon had been a one-time use item, instantly deactivating and dissolving now that its bloody purpose was fulfilled.
There was not a single intact display case or artifact left in sight. The entire massive exhibition hall had been hollowed out by raw, destructive power. Aside from Kurapika, the room was entirely empty of human life. The ordinary attendees had obviously been evacuated long before the violence peaked. Even the heavily armed security guards and venue staff had wisely fled into the streets; ordinary men did not dare approach when walking calamities clashed.
Kurapika stood perfectly still in the center of the wreckage, his back turned to the entrance. The residual aura radiating from his battered body was incredibly dense, washing over the room like suffocating waves of invisible fire. He clearly had not deactivated his Scarlet Eyes yet.
A large, heavy book conjured purely from Nen floated steadily in the air just inches from his chest.
Hearing the deliberate crunch of Liam's shoes approaching from behind, Kurapika suddenly broke the heavy silence. "Liam. I have a question for you. Please answer me seriously."
"Go ahead," Liam replied casually, slipping his hands into his pockets as he surveyed the absolute ruin of the hall.
He could not help but wonder about Chrollo's ultimate fate, and the strange mechanics he had witnessed earlier. It seemed that among the Phantom Troupe members whose absolute details he had not memorized, there truly was a spatial teleportation Nen ability at play. The sudden, seamless disappearance of Feitan, Phinks, and Uvogin back in the garage had been incredibly strange. Relying on his enhanced hearing during the chaotic clash, Liam recalled that right before the trio vanished under the blinding, fierce sunlight generated by Feitan, they had seemed to be quietly chanting something in unison. It could not actually be some kind of magical teleportation spell, could it?
Kurapika's voice cut through Liam's internal theories. He remained facing away, his posture rigid. "I want to ask you... why have you never shown any genuine killing intent toward the members of the Phantom Troupe, from the very beginning until the bitter end?"
Hearing the raw, heavy seriousness in Kurapika's trembling voice, Liam paused. He thought for a long moment, staring at the blonde boy's tense shoulders.
"Maybe I just do not hate them that much," Liam finally said aloud, his tone even and honest.
Internally, however, he let out a mental sigh. Who had not gone through a wildly edgy teenage phase? When he had first read the original manga back in his old life, he had thought the entire Troupe was incredibly cool and undeniably badass. Deep down, a part of him still felt it would suck if every single one of them just died miserably in the dirt. If Kurapika wanted to blame someone for this lack of murderous drive, he should blame the fact that the Spiders were portrayed as pretty damn charismatic villains. He should just blame Togashi.
Kurapika slowly nodded his head once. It was impossible to tell exactly what the sole survivor of the Kurta clan was thinking in that heavy, quiet moment.
Suddenly, the large, ethereal book floating directly in front of Kurapika flared with a blinding, bloody red light. Before Liam could step forward, Kurapika's physical body collapsed into a dense, swirling sphere of pure crimson aura, immediately flying forward and vanishing completely into the dark pages of The Abyss.