Gordeau Desert.
The hot air balloon drifted over the barren landscape, a solitary speck against the moonlit sky.
Inside the basket, the mood was tense. Feitan had just finished interrogating the auction host before they fled.
"The host spilled everything," Feitan said, his voice raspy. "The Ten Dons entrusted the transport to the Shadow Beasts. But someone else got there first. Someone deeper than the Dons."
"The host didn't know about the trap," he continued. "Which means our enemy played the Mafia just as hard as they played us."
Chrollo Lucilfer sat quietly, processing the intel.
"These Mafia goons are just pawns," Chrollo said, his eyes scanning the horizon. "The real player is the one hiding in the shadows. He used the Mafia to lure us, used Hisoka as a scapegoat, and cleared the vault before we arrived."
He leaned forward, a cold smile touching his lips.
"He has an ability similar to Owl—shrinking and storing items. He has a copying ability superior to Kortopi's. And he can detonate corpses. Interesting. It's been a long time since we faced an opponent this prepared."
"Heh," Uvogin chuckled, though his eyes burned with hate. "He thinks we're prey? He thinks he can hunt us?"
The Big Bang Impact user cracked his knuckles.
"I'm going to find him. And when I do, I'm going to eat him."
"Danchou," Shalnark interrupted, looking at his phone. "The Mafia forces are catching up. They tracked the balloon."
"Good," Chrollo said. "Since they want to treat us like prey, let's make a big noise. Draw out the Shadow Beasts. Draw out the mastermind."
He looked at Uvogin.
"Uvo. Go down there. Teach them a lesson. And keep an eye out for our hidden friend."
"Understood, Danchou!"
Uvogin grinned, his teeth white against his soot-stained face.
"For Pakunoda!"
The Massacre in the Valley.
The balloon landed in a rocky canyon. Uvogin stepped out alone. The rest of the Troupe sat on the ridge, watching like spectators at a gladiator match.
Hundreds of Mafia cars swarmed the valley floor. Snipers, soldiers, and hitmen poured out, weapons drawn.
"FIRE!"
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
A hail of bullets slammed into Uvogin.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
The bullets bounced off his skin like rain off a tank. Uvogin didn't even flinch. He just laughed.
"ROAR! I'M IN A BAD MOOD TODAY! DIE!"
He charged.
It wasn't a fight. It was a natural disaster.
Uvogin grabbed a mafia soldier by the head and squeezed. Splat. Like a grape. He grabbed another by the ankles and swung him like a club, shattering three other men into bone shards.
"Monster!"
"RPG! Use the RPG!"
WHOOSH! BOOM!
A rocket-propelled grenade hit Uvogin square in the chest. Smoke billowed.
"Did we get him?"
The smoke cleared. Uvogin stood there, slightly more charred, his eyes glowing red.
"That tickled," he growled.
He moved faster than eyesight. Bam. The RPG user exploded into red mist.
From the ridge, the Spiders watched.
"Sloppy," Feitan critiqued. "He's wasting energy."
"He's venting," Nobunaga muttered. "Let him be."
The Arrivals.
Ryker's convoy pulled up on a distant cliff overlooking the valley.
Kurapika, Melody, and the others looked through binoculars. Dalzollene nearly threw up.
"My god..." Baise whispered, covering her mouth. "They're tearing people apart like paper."
The valley floor was a butcher shop. Limbs, organs, and blood painted the rocks red. And in the center of it all, Uvogin roared, a demon bathing in carnage.
"If we go down there, we die," Squala whimpered, hugging his dog.
"Captain," Dalzollene turned to Ryker, pale as a ghost. "We should retreat. This is suicide."
"Wait," Melody said, her new ears twitching. "Something is coming. From underground."
Rumble.
The ground beneath the valley floor exploded.
A grotesque, worm-like man burst from the earth. He was naked, hairless, and covered in dirt.
Worm (Shadow Beast).
"I am Worm!" the creature announced. "Who are you?"
He looked up at Ryker's group on the cliff.
"Nostrade Family Bodyguards!" Dalzollene yelled quickly. "We're chasing the thieves!"
"Oh," Worm grunted. "Stay back then. You kids will just get hurt. Leave this to the professionals."
"Heh. Professionals," another voice sneered.
Three more figures emerged from the shadows.
A skinny man with jagged teeth (Rabid Dog).
A short, hairy man (Porcupine).
A fat, grotesque man with leeches in his mouth (Leech).
The Shadow Beasts. The Ten Dons' pride and joy.
"We are the experts here," Rabid Dog snarled. "Sit back and watch the show, amateurs."
They looked at Ryker's group with utter disdain. To them, these bodyguards were just civilians playing dress-up.
Ryker watched them, a "friendly" smile on his face.
"Yo. Hello there, Mr. Tough Guys," Ryker waved.
Heh. Weaklings. But your Traits... those look tasty.
Unseen by anyone, tiny sparks of electricity—microscopic Thunder Mosquitos—drifted down from the cliff, landing softly on the necks of the Shadow Beasts.
Marked.
Ryker's grin widened.
"Please," Ryker called out. "Show us how the experts do it."
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