"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Well, that explosion definitely wiped out everyone inside. Now, how are we splitting the bounty?"
"Hehe, you're too naive. You think a monster with a 100 billion Jenny bounty on his head is going to die that easily? But... assuming there are no miracles, he should at least be heavily injured."
"If he's not dead, whoever claims his head first gets the cash."
"Exactly what I was thinking!"
Dozens of high-tier Nen assassins lay hidden in the darkness surrounding the burning hotel. Like a pack of starving hyenas drawn to the scent of blood, they had flocked to Yorknew City. Even if the meat belonged to a lion, they were ready to snatch it from its jaws.
The entire luxury hotel was engulfed in a raging inferno.
Inside the crumbling lobby, Ryker stood perfectly still. The people gathered around him—Kurapika, Melody, and the other bodyguards of the Nostrade Family—stared at the teenager in absolute, paralyzing shock.
They had just witnessed a miracle.
Starting from the exact spot where Ryker stood, a perfect ten-meter radius of the lobby remained completely untouched. The carpet wasn't singed, the furniture wasn't scorched, and the air was perfectly cool.
They had all heard the deafening roar of the C4 explosives and the shattering glass from the incendiary bombs. Yet the devastating shockwaves and the 1,000-degree flames had been completely deflected, as if they had crashed into an invisible, impenetrable fortress.
"H-How is he so strong?!"
"The Captain is unbelievable..."
"So this is the Captain's true power!"
"Thank God we followed him..."
The Nostrade bodyguards gasped, their hearts pounding with profound relief. Choosing Ryker as their leader had essentially granted them a death exemption. Had any of them faced a coordinated terrorist attack of this magnitude alone, even with their Nen, they would have been reduced to ash.
But for Ryker, it was nothing more than a light drizzle.
"Brother Ryker... The Mafia Community must be involved. And they've hired professional assassins," Kurapika said, his brow furrowed with concern. "We need to break out of here..."
"Relax," Ryker sneered, a bone-chilling, absolute zero coldness flashing in his eyes. "The show is just getting started."
Since they want to play dirty, I'll show them what a real massacre looks like.
Outside the hotel, the assassins waited patiently in the shadows, like vipers coiled for a strike. They were ready to deliver the killing blow the moment their prey stumbled out of the flames.
The Mafia boss who had orchestrated the bombing stood across the street, laughing heartily at the burning skyscraper. As far as he was concerned, no human being could survive that kind of structural collapse.
"Boss, the target is definitely dead! We can finally report back to the Ten Dons!" a gangster cheered.
"We need the body! If he's alive, we kill him. If he's dead, we drag his corpse out of the rubble! Leave the head for those hyena assassins if you have to, but we need proof!" the boss barked. "Tsk, tsk. Bringing down the wrath of the Ten Dons... they really had a death wish."
The roaring flames illuminated the vicious, greedy smiles of the Mafia members.
But in the next second—
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
A secondary, infinitely more violent explosion erupted from the ground floor of the hotel. The entire front facade blew outward. The orange flames twisted violently, expanding into massive, writhing tongues of fire that shot out in every direction like a solar flare.
A cacophony of agonizing, blood-curdling screams instantly shattered the night sky.
The Mafia members standing closest to the hotel were caught completely off guard. The explosive shockwave slammed into them, splashing the strange flames directly onto their clothes and skin.
These were no ordinary flames. They acted like parasitic maggots. The moment they touched a person, they clung to their flesh, rapidly spreading across their entire body.
In seconds, dozens of gangsters were transformed into screaming human torches.
Even the assassins with Nen found themselves struggling. No matter how hard they rolled on the asphalt, tore off their clothes, or dove into fountains, the bizarre flames refused to extinguish.
"What the hell is going on?!"
"This fire is cursed! It won't go out! This isn't normal fire!"
"It's Nen! It's a Nen flame! Fuck! Why didn't the bounty board mention this monster could use fire?!"
"Scatter! Everyone, run!"
Pure terror gripped the street.
Under the horrified gazes of hundreds of people, a silhouette slowly walked out of the roaring inferno.
A silhouette composed entirely of fire.
As the flames slowly receded and absorbed back into his skin, the crowd finally saw him clearly.
It was Ryker.
His upper garments had been completely incinerated, revealing a torso of perfectly chiseled, dense muscle. Not a single burn mark or scratch marred his body. He looked like a Demon King who had just stepped out of the fiery pits of hell.
"M-Monster... He's a monster!"
"He can't be burned! He controls the fire!"
Driven by panic, several gangsters raised their submachine guns and assault rifles.
"Shoot him! Shoot the bastard! Kill the monster!"
BANG! BANG! RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
A massive hail of bullets tore through the air, completely enveloping Ryker.
And then—
Every single bullet stopped mid-air.
Hundreds of deformed slugs hovered motionless in a perfect halo around his body, suspended by an invisible wall of telekinetic force.
Ryker casually snapped his fingers.
The parasitic flames erupted around him once more. The hovering bullets instantly melted into glowing, liquid metal. With his telekinesis, he reshaped the molten metal into thousands of microscopic, red-hot steel needles.
Ryker slowly raised his head. His eyes burned with literal fire as the corners of his mouth curled into a devilish grin.
He waved his hand.
SWISH—!
Like a sudden, violent rainstorm, the tens of thousands of red-hot needles shot outward in every direction.
The Mafia gangsters didn't even have time to blink.
In a fraction of a second, thousands of needles tore through their bodies. A moment later, high-pressure streams of blood erupted from countless microscopic wounds, painting the streets of Yorknew City in a horrifying crimson rain.
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