An unnamed small town, an emptied shop.
Purgatory, Hungry Ghost, and Shura sat on folding chairs on one side, their backs straight, but their fingers were tightening unconsciously.
Sterling sat opposite them with his legs crossed, holding a glasses cloth in his hand, slowly and methodically wiping his lenses.
His movements were very light and slow, as if he were doing something that required great patience.
Behind him, six men in black stood in a row, hands folded in front of them, expressionless.
Sterling held up the glasses to check them, and only after confirming there was no dust did he slowly put them on.
He looked up, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the three men, a gentle smile on his lips.
"I'm glad you could cooperate. I am from the V5."
The bodies of Purgatory and the other two stiffened simultaneously.
V5!
That was the coalition formed by the five nations standing at the pinnacle of the world, controlling the vast majority of resources and influence in the human world.
Growing up in the shadows, these people had an instinctive fear of the term "V5"—not because they knew exactly how powerful it was, but because those who hunted them were backed by the V5.
Sterling seemed to see their nervousness; he smiled, his tone becoming even gentler.
"I know that as descendants of the Black Shadows, you have had a very difficult time over the years."
He paused, his gaze falling on Purgatory and the others.
"So we want to make a deal with you. Once it's done, you can appear before the world openly and honorably."
Hungry Ghost leaned forward, his thick hands resting on his knees.
"What kind of deal?"
Sterling's smile deepened.
"It's simple: resurrect that person."
The moment the words "that person" were spoken, the air in the shop seemed to freeze.
Purgatory's pupils contracted slightly, Hungry Ghost's breath hitched, and Shura's expression turned solemn.
The three of them exchanged looks, seeing the same thought in each other's eyes.
Shura spoke slowly, his voice deeper than usual.
"Isn't he... dead?"
Sterling folded the glasses cloth neatly and put it in his pocket.
"He is indeed dead, but—"
He looked up, the eyes behind the lenses glinting with an unsettling light.
"'Nen' possesses infinite possibilities."
Silence, a long silence.
Purgatory and the others sat there, their faces expressionless, but countless thoughts were surging in their hearts.
Jed—the Clan Chief of the Black Shadow clan, a man of immense strength and the leader of the Hunter Association's shadow unit, the 'Cleanse Squad,' had died at the hands of Netero.
Resurrection.
The word sounded like a fantasy, but 'Nen' could indeed accomplish many inconceivable things.
Sterling did not rush them.
He leaned back in his chair, hands crossed over his knees, his gaze slowly wandering over the faces of the three.
He waited long enough before speaking again, his voice slightly softer than before, as if reminiscing.
"I know your Black Shadow descendant tribe once lived in an isolated place. Deep in the mountains, away from the world, working at sunrise and resting at sunset."
His voice was very light, but every word was like a nail driven into their ears.
"But some people could not tolerate your existence. With the arrival of the Hunter Association, that beautiful tranquility was shattered. Your clansmen suffered heavy casualties, and most were taken away. You three have been on the run since childhood, living like rats for all these years."
Hungry Ghost's fist clenched, his nails digging into his palm until blood seeped out.
Shura lowered his head, staring at the wood grain on the table.
Purgatory closed his eyes.
Every word from Sterling stung their hearts deeply.
Those images they tried to forget—the flames, the shouts of killing, the falling people, the clansmen being taken away—surged back into their minds like a tide, drowning out all reason.
Sterling paused, observing the changes in their expressions, and then said slowly.
"So, do you want to take revenge on the Hunter Association?"
His tone was flat, but the word "revenge" carried more power than any sweet words.
No one answered.
Purgatory opened his eyes, his gaze staring vacantly at the opposite wall.
Hungry Ghost's hands were shaking—not from fear, but from rage.
Shura's fingers were digging hard into the tabletop.
Sterling stood up, the chair making a slight scraping sound on the floor.
"I know you are conflicted."
He picked up the gloves from the corner of the table and put them on unhurriedly.
"But we are in no hurry. I'll give you some time to think. Once you've made up your minds, come find me. I'll be waiting at any time."
He turned and walked toward the door, the six men in black following silently behind him.
The light at the door flickered, and Sterling's back disappeared outside.
Purgatory and the others sat there, motionless.
Outside the shop, Sterling walked toward a black sedan parked on the roadside.
The car door opened, and he bent down to get in, just about to close the door—
"Wait a moment."
A voice came from behind.
Sterling's hand stopped.
He looked up, his lips slowly curling into a grin.
He turned his head and saw Purgatory and the others walking out of the shop.
Their expressions were much calmer than before, and their eyes were full of determination.
"We agree."
Sterling smiled happily; his mission was completed with Perfection.
He nodded, then moved over inside the car to make room.
Ten days later.
The boundless desert shimmered with a golden light under the sun, and heat waves rose from the ground, distorting the distant horizon.
There were no trees, no grass, no water—only rolling sand dunes and parched earth.
The wind was strong, and the blowing sand stung as it hit their faces.
Several figures were walking with difficulty through the desert.
Purgatory walked at the front, his grey robe blown tight against his body by the wind. Hungry Ghost followed behind him, his thick legs taking steady strides, but the sweat on his forehead showed he wasn't finding it easy either.
Shura walked at the back, clutching a map, his gaze moving back and forth between the map and the terrain ahead.
Sterling walked behind them, his pace much more composed than theirs, his white shirt somewhat dazzling in the sunlight.
His hands were in his pockets, and three subordinates followed behind him.
Shura looked at the map in his hand, then looked up at the terrain ahead and whispered.
"We should be almost there."
No one answered.
In the desert, there was only the sound of the wind and footsteps.
Ten minutes later, many stone pillars appeared in the sand ahead.
Those stone pillars were of varying heights, the tallest being over ten meters, the shortest only reaching the knees.
There were patterns on the surface, but after years of erosion by wind and sand, the patterns had become blurred.
The five continued forward, passing through the gaps between the stone pillars and walking into the center of the circle.
Shura stopped and looked around to confirm the location.
"We're here."
Purgatory and the others exchanged looks and nodded.
Sterling gestured to two people wearing white robes.
Those two had been following silently at the back of the group, their faces devoid of any expression, like two walking corpses.
They stepped forward and stood in the very center of the stone pillar array, facing each other, two meters apart.
Nen surged from within their bodies.
The Nen wrapped around them like small black snakes.
Their lips moved slightly, chanting unintelligible incantations.
Purgatory stepped forward and drew a dagger from his waist.
Without hesitation, he cut his own wrist.
Blood gushed out, dripping onto the stone floor beneath his feet.
Hungry Ghost and Shura also stepped forward, cutting their wrists in the same way.
Three streams of blood flowed from three directions, merging in the grooves of the stone slab and winding toward the largest stone pillar in the center.
That stone pillar was pitch black all over, with no carvings on its surface, and it was a notch thicker than the other pillars.
The blood flowed to its base and was instantly absorbed, and a faint dark-red pattern appeared on the pillar.
The two people in white robes took out daggers from their bosoms; they looked at each other and then simultaneously plunged the daggers into their own hearts.
There were no screams, no struggling.
Their bodies jerked violently, and then they began to dissolve.
Flesh and blood turned into a thick, blood-colored liquid, bones turned into white powder, and Nen erupted from that mass of liquid, staggering in its magnitude.
The Nen condensed and rotated in the air, turning into a blood-colored vortex, and then frantically poured into the central stone pillar.
The stone pillar began to vibrate.
First a slight tremor, then a violent shaking, and finally the entire ground was vibrating.
Sterling pushed up his glasses, watching the scene with glowing eyes.
The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, and there was a hint of uncontrollable excitement in the depths of his eyes.
This gamble was right!
He had perfectly executed the mission assigned by his superior.
Cracks appeared on the surface of the stone pillar.
The first one extended from the top to the bottom... more and more cracks appeared.
A massive, malicious aura surged from the cracks.
Purgatory and the others clutched the wounds on their wrists, their faces pale and breathing heavily as they stared at the cracking stone pillar.
Sterling stood at the very back, hands in his pockets, the widening cracks on the stone pillar reflected in the lenses of his glasses.
"Netero..."
He said softly.
"I hope you like this grand gift..."