After hearing those stories, Bonolenov Ndongo had a good impression of them...
Yes, of course, Meteor City's stories favored the Phantom Troupe.
With so many praising them, it was hard not to be influenced!
He himself was from the minority tribe, a people driven from their homeland due to development projects.
Inside their bandage-wrapped bodies were many wind cavities, which produced sound as they moved. They were called the most beautiful warriors.
When male from the Gyudondond Tribe reach three years old, they are circumcised, and needles are inserted in various parts of their body.
Over time, these needles are replaced with thicker and thicker sticks, and the holes are stabilized with bamboo stalks or stones. Using these holes, Gyudondond males are capable of creating a variety of sounds.
They are called Bap, the Dancing Warriors.
In rituals and prayers, they served as both mediums and musicians.
Before war against rival tribes or wild beasts, they would use their bodies to play the songs of battle and charge bravely.
They believed that the more beautiful the sound, the greater the spirits that would descend.
A skilled fighter was equal to a god, and their voice was even above that of the tribe elders.
Growing up in such an environment made Bonolenov Ndongo adaptable to Meteor City and curious about the Phantom Troupe.
"Although Elder Veyron recommended you to me..."
Franklin said in a deep voice, "We still need to test your ability first."
"We don't just take anyone back with us."
Hearing this, a gleam flashed in the uncovered eye of Bonolenov Ndongo.
After a moment of silence, he asked in a low voice: "How do you want to test me?"
"It's quite simple..."
A steady aura began to gather around Franklin.
"Even if a person's strength is weak now, there's still the potential for growth in the future."
"But if they don't even have the most basic resolve..."
The malicious aura he released swept toward Bonolenov Ndongo.
"Then they don't even have the right to speak with us."
He still had a week left, enough time for Franklin to verify the true nature of this man named Bonolenov Ndongo.
Besides, the location Luke chose, Ambrossa, was on the Yorbian Continent, not too far from Meteor City.
Franklin had plenty of time.
As for the other troupe members, Pakunoda was, as usual, accompanying Chrollo.
Shalnark, upon receiving the message, immediately set off, and once he learned the exact location, the first thing he did was begin gathering intelligence about the place.
If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles, right?
Shalnark had already gotten a taste of the benefits that came from information gathering!
The others were also heading toward the capital of the Sebrona Country, Ambrossa, in their own ways.
The Phantom Troupe's first official grand assembly was about to begin.
Ambrossa was the second-largest city on the Yorbian Continent, just behind Yorknew City.
Its decadence and extravagance were not far behind either.
But compared to Yorknew's surface-level glamor and polished façade… Ambrossa was far more blatant.
When Luke stepped into the city, the leaden clouds seemed to eternally smother the sky.
The city resembled the jeweled, neon-stuffed corpse of a giant beast.
The air carried hints of rust and some indescribably filthy, milky-white scent.
And a sweet, metallic tang wafted from the city's rivers.
The water there flowed a deep, unnatural purple.
It was said to be from the biochemical waste dumped by the brewery that produced the city's famous liquor, Crimson Nightmare.
Under the moonlight, the waste glowed like ghostly will-o'-wisps.
Ironically, despite the ecological destruction and threats to public health… The local government described it as a unique and beautiful scenic attraction.
The pollution was marketed as a tourist feature.
Any mention of its harm or the citizens' declining health was suppressed.
If any residents noticed and protested… they were either brushed off or became waste dumped by the brewery themselves…
Why did darkness thrive here?
Because those above were filthy to begin with.
Officially, Ambrossa was governed by the nation's small-time president.
But behind him, of course, lurked a puppeteer.
Just like Yorknew City's mayor was a figure chosen by the mafia… here, too, the ruler was merely a spokesman of the underworld.
The mafia controlling Ambrossa was one backed by a notorious member of the Ten Dons.
It was precisely because of such a figure that the city had decayed so deeply.
"Salvatore Malas? Is it the mafia family under one of the Ten Dons' commands operating under the guise of a multinational trading conglomerate?"
Luke muttered while walking down the main street and reading the information Chrollo had sent him.
Once he designated Ambrossa as the troupe's meeting point… Chrollo immediately dug up the city's intelligence.
With Shalnark's help, they had even uncovered information about the Ten Dons behind it.
And with Pakunoda's memory-reading Nen ability... Learning the city's truth was trivial.
Sometimes, certain Nen abilities were no less useful than Luke's own inventions.
After getting a general understanding of the situation, Luke headed to the location he had selected.
Almost the entire city was covered by Salvatore Malas' Mafia Family's surveillance.
Any move would quickly be noticed.
So Luke chose a place far from the city center, among the ruins of the outer ring.
He walked through the streets.
Gothic cathedral spires clashed dramatically with mirrored skyscrapers.
Luxurious palace-like buildings bore enormous neon signs glowing above with the words Ambrossa Entertainment Plaza in gilded letters.
Electric hum buzzed constantly, the city's relentless, gasping breath, even deep into the night.
Luke's expression remained calm without a flicker of emotion.
Even the grandest tower nearby failed to draw his eyes.
That was the United Trade Tower, the headquarters of Salvatore Malas Mafia Family, one of the Ten Don's strongholds.
Blatantly towering at the very heart of the city.
Not that Luke cared.
After all, in the Spider-Man world of the Marvel Universe, Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin, had an even more ostentatious skyscraper standing proudly in the center of the city.
From this alone, he could tell, this city was basically beyond saving.
When Luke walked out of the bustling street, in the blink of an eye, it was as if he had fallen from heaven into hell.