Inside the auction hall, everyone stared at him, at that license, and at the two silver stars gleaming upon it.
"I am a Crime Hunter from the Hunter Association."
Leo's tone was calm.
"This man is Jasper, an A-rank wanted criminal responsible for multiple heinous murders, with over a hundred victims. I came here specifically for him."
"I hope you all don't make any foolish mistakes!"
No one spoke.
Several guests who had been slumped in their seats slowly sat upright.
Those who were running out stopped at the door, turning around slowly with curious expressions.
The security captain's hand moved away from his waist, and he swallowed hard.
Leo looked down at Jasper's corpse, took out his phone, and snapped several photos of his face.
Front, side, close-up, and the wanted criminal ID number on his body.
Then he opened the Hunter Association website, filled in the information, uploaded the photos, and confirmed the submission.
He had performed this entire process so many times that he was as proficient at it as eating or drinking.
He put away his phone and turned to look at the nearby security captain.
"I'll leave this guy's corpse for you to handle. Make sure to clean it up thoroughly."
The security captain was stunned for a moment before nodding hurriedly.
"Yes... yes! Understood!"
Leo said nothing more, turning to walk toward the entrance.
The crowd automatically parted to make a path; no one dared to approach, and no one dared to make a sound.
Behind him, the auction hall became lively once again.
Some began to whisper, some slumped in their chairs gasping for breath, and others held wine glasses with trembling arms.
The security captain crouched by the corpse, unsure whether to deal with the body first or comfort the guests.
With pale faces, everyone watched that white-clad demon leave the auction hall.
The moment Leo turned to leave, three black sedans slowly approached the main entrance.
The lead car was a stretch luxury vehicle, its silver Spirit of Ecstasy hood ornament glinting coldly under the lights.
The car door opened, and a man in a dark gray suit stepped out.
He was in his early thirties, his hair meticulously combed, with the kind of gentle yet distant smile typical of those who have long held high positions.
Cliff Dawkins. Flashbulbs instantly lit up the area.
Reporters squeezed forward with microphones and cameras, while the security team quickly formed a human wall to keep the crowd behind the red carpet.
"Mr. Cliff! Can we have an interview?"
A reporter shouted at the top of their lungs.
Cliff stopped, turning to face the cameras with that same kind smile on his face.
The flashes made his face flicker between light and shadow.
"We heard that you caused a sensation across the internet recently due to a sex scandal. The victims' families filed a joint report, but it was all suppressed."
The reporter's voice was fast and shrill.
"There are rumors that you spent ten billion to silence the victims' families?"
Cliff's expression did not change at all.
He tilted his head slightly as if seriously considering the question, and then he smiled.
"There's no such thing."
His voice was gentle, his speaking pace steady.
"Those are all false rumors. I am a philanthropist; I have only donated ten billion in charitable funds to the Redwood Charity Relief Society."
He paused, his gaze scanning all the cameras present.
"Thank you, everyone. That is all for today's questions."
He turned and walked toward the auction entrance.
The security captain followed quickly, whispering something in his ear. Cliff nodded slightly without pausing his stride.
On the outskirts of the crowd, Kalluto slowly approached.
His dark purple kimono appeared exceptionally somber under the lights.
He held a paper fan, half-open, concealing the lower half of his face.
Those fiery red eyes pierced through the crowd, dead-locked onto the back of the figure walking toward the entrance.
Ten meters remained between him and Cliff.
Kalluto raised his paper fan, his other hand lightly flicking from his sleeve.
White paper scraps drifted out, just a few scattered pieces at first, swirling in the wind.
Then they became more numerous and dense, swirling and falling slowly around Kalluto's body like a silent snowfall.
This was Kalluto's ability—Paper Blizzard.
The security captain was the first to notice something was wrong.
He whipped his head around, saw the youth standing on the edge of the crowd and the white paper scraps circling him, and his pupils suddenly contracted.
"Enemy attack—!"
Before his voice could fade, Kalluto had already moved.
He raised his hand and fanned forcefully, his voice as low as a whisper.
"Wind."
The sky full of paper scraps suddenly erupted!
They were no longer light, drifting snowflakes, but had transformed into a white torrent, sweeping toward the ten security personnel with overwhelming force.
The lead security captain gave a great shout as his Nen exploded, forming a protective layer over his body.
The others reacted as well; some raised guns, some retreated, and others stood in front of Cliff to shield him.
But those paper scraps did not attack them.
They simply adhered to their clothes, skin, and hair, light and seemingly harmless.
The security captain froze for a moment, looking down at the white paper scrap on his sleeve, just about to speak—
"Dance of the Snake's Bite."
Kalluto's voice was very light.
The paper fan suddenly snapped shut and swung with force.
The paper scraps surrounding Kalluto spun rapidly, turning into a tornado that struck the security personnel covered in paper.
In that same instant, countless paper scraps transformed into razor-sharp blades, spinning, cutting, and tearing!
Mist of blood exploded in the air; the ten men didn't even have time to scream before their bodies were sliced into countless fragments.
Severed limbs, internal organs, and broken firearm parts mixed with blood splashed onto the ground, spreading a shocking dark red across the red carpet.
Screams erupted from the crowd.
Cliff's face turned deathly pale, and he turned to run.
His legs were shaking, and his leather shoes slipped in the pool of blood, nearly causing him to fall.
He stumbled toward the auction entrance, with only one thought in his mind—
Get inside. It'll be safe inside; there's security and countless people.
Then, in his stumbling state, he crashed into a wall.
To be precise, it was a person's chest.
With a dull thud, Cliff bounced backward and landed hard on his buttocks.
He looked up to see a young man in a white suit walking out of the auction.
The man's expression was calm.
"I'll give you a billion!"
Cliff scrambled backward on all fours, his voice cracking.
"Someone is trying to kill me, help me stop him! A billion! Fifteen hundred million is fine too!"
Leo looked down at him.
"A billion?"
The corners of his mouth curled slightly into a smile touched with mockery.
Cliff was still shouting, but Leo's gaze had already passed over him, landing on the youth in the dark purple kimono at the edge of the crowd.
"Leo!"
Kalluto's voice carried undisguised joy.
He walked over quickly, his paper fan already tucked away, his face full of smiles—a completely different person from the youth who had just killed ten people with a wave of his hand.
Leo waved to him.
"Hi, long time no see, Kalluto!"
Cliff's face went completely white.
"You... you're together..."
He looked at Leo, then at Kalluto, and a desperate whimper escaped his throat.