Shalnark had already sent Chrollo the news: the Shadow Beast in the mafia who could rapidly move cargo—that one who could "package" things and relocate them—had already died at Ronin's hands.
Chrollo could only think it was a criminal waste.
Now, though, Shizuku's appearance offered a new opening.
So he accepted the request, and told them to send him the enemy's file.
But the moment the information landed in his hands, Chrollo's gaze grew even darker.
Because from the description, he immediately thought of one person—Ronin.
That bastard had gotten to Meteor City before him… and found Shizuku.
Why?
Chrollo couldn't understand it.
He'd considered the possibility that Ronin and his group might enter Greed Island to hunt down lone Troupe members. He'd considered Ronin coming to Nostrade City to track him. He'd even considered Ronin and Shalnark racing each other for the Scarlet Eyes.
But he'd never once imagined Ronin would set his sights on Meteor City.
And now that he had…
The one with a headache was Chrollo.
If he rushed in and fought Ronin with the Troupe split up, he didn't have a 100% win rate.
But letting Ronin run wild in Meteor City was something he absolutely didn't want to see either.
So after thinking it through, Chrollo made two calls.
The first was to the Zoldycks. The last time he'd wanted to help "Isuri" deal with the Zoldyck assassination, his plan had been to contact Illumi.
But before he could even get a list of suspects from Isuri, Isuri had died.
This time, he only had one objective: get the Zoldyck family involved in assassinating Ronin, and he was willing to pay a high price.
"Ronin?" Illumi repeated the name. The first Ronin he thought of wasn't the one who'd humiliated the Phantom Troupe in Yorknew—it was the Ronin who'd taught Killua a lesson at Heaven's Arena.
"Name your price," Chrollo said. He knew exactly how the Zoldycks operated.
"Ten billion jenny," Illumi quoted immediately.
Even to Chrollo, that number was outrageous.
When Chrollo didn't answer right away, Illumi added, "That's a 'friend price' for you. And besides me, I don't think anyone else would take this job."
After the Yorknew incident, Ronin's threat assessment—and the price range required to accept a contract on him—had already been logged into the Zoldyck family's internal intelligence network.
"…Fine," Chrollo agreed.
Ten billion wasn't a number he couldn't stomach. And money? If you ran out, you robbed more. Banks were everywhere.
"Five billion deposit," Illumi said coolly. "If the assassination fails, no refunds."
"He's in Meteor City," Chrollo warned. "Move fast. Otherwise my money's probably going straight down the drain."
Illumi didn't bother responding. His success rate was 100%.
If it weren't for curiosity—and because he'd heard Ronin's name from Killua recently—he wouldn't have taken on a job this annoying.
Chrollo ended the call and transferred the money immediately.
Then he dialed the second number.
This time, the voice on the other end sounded faintly surprised—yet somehow it still carried that skin-crawling edge.
The caller was Hisoka: the man who dreamed of nothing more than a 1v1 fight with Chrollo.
"You're actually calling me first?!" Hisoka sounded delighted.
"I can accept your terms," Chrollo said flatly. "But my condition is that Ronin must die."
"I refuse," Hisoka replied without even a pause.
Chrollo frowned. "Why?"
"Because…" Hisoka's voice curled into a grin, "he's starting to smell even better than you."
That answer left Chrollo silent for a beat. Then he pivoted. "What if I help you?"
"Help me how?" Hisoka's tone turned playful. "We already set a date—October 1st, Heaven's Arena. You're welcome to come watch."
Hisoka was the one extending the invitation.
"It was you," Chrollo realized in an instant. Hisoka had made contact with Ronin—and traded Troupe and Meteor City information for a chance to duel him.
"Even though I've got another appointment coming up," Hisoka continued, "if you're interested in me, I don't mind pushing it back a little."
His voice was practically brimming with anticipation.
The way Ronin fought—especially how terrifying he was up close—had completely hooked him.
He wanted to dig out Ronin's secret. More than that, he wanted a fight that would leave him satisfied down to his bones.
October 1st… he was looking forward to it more and more.
So much that the "main course" he'd been chasing was starting to feel like a side dish.
And if he could get a bit of appetizing, crisp "starter" before the feast…
Chrollo fit the bill perfectly.
"I'm the one who led him to Meteor City," Hisoka added, smugness dripping from every syllable. "He asked me questions—what was I supposed to do, refuse?"
He conveniently ignored that Ronin had been searching for someone; he made it all about himself.
"You did well," Chrollo said, perfectly calm.
The calmer Chrollo sounded, the more exaggerated Hisoka's grin became.
Too bad this was a phone call—if it were video, he would've loved to show Chrollo the look on his face. It would've been spectacular.
Then the line went dead, cutting off Hisoka's thoughts—and swallowing the words he'd been about to say.
So it was still a no, huh?
What a shame.
Chrollo closed his eyes and took a slow breath. When he opened them again, the killing intent that had been lurking there was gone.
Relying only on the Zoldycks wasn't enough.
But if Ronin thought Meteor City was some easy place to barge into, then he was dead wrong.
Meteor City's true core was something even Chrollo treated with caution.
"Let's go," Chrollo said. "To Heaven's Arena."
He didn't go back to Meteor City.
If Ronin wanted to stir up trouble there, then let him stir it up.
Meteor City wasn't Chrollo's anymore, anyway.
In fact, Chrollo was curious—just how big a mess could Ronin make in that place?
The first update Ryan received in his villa was that Elder Theodore—and all of Theodore's people—had vanished.
Dead.
Ryan reached that conclusion immediately.
They were dead, just like the missing clinic: packaged and hauled away so thoroughly that not even bodies remained.
But how could it be this fast?
Even among the Elders, Theodore had been one of the stronger ones.
And yet he'd fallen so quickly.
From first contact… to Theodore's death—had it even been ten minutes?
Against an opponent like that, could the rabble gathered in his villa really stand a chance?
Ryan hesitated.
Or… should he just sacrifice them all?
An eerie curve rose at the corner of Ryan's mouth. His eyes narrowed into crescent moons.
And at the exact same moment, iron shutters slammed down outside the room where he'd gathered elite forces from multiple Elders' factions—
and from every corner of the room, hypnotic gas began to roll out.