"Are the Phantom Troupe guys really gonna show?" Neon sounded a little unsure, fidgeting with the mechanical pencil in her hand like it was itching to get to work.
She'd already done a fortune-telling for Ronin this month.
But if she switched the target to a Troupe member, she might be able to whip up a poem that described exactly what would happen on the day of the reading.
"They're coming. It was right there in the poem you gave me." Ronin's voice was rock-solid confident, and he'd already tuned his aura to peak condition. "By my count, they should be here any minute."
"Then we're pulling back," Kurapika said. He knew full well that staying would only make them dead weight. "Once you've handled things here, ping us."
According to Ronin, he and Neon might stand a chance against the Shadow Beasts, but against the Troupe? Instant death.
The gap between them was still huge.
The key to closing that gap was Kurapika's Recovery Chain—the one that eased fatigue and sped up physical recovery. It wasn't quite on the level of Biscuit's amazing massage ability, but it was pretty darn close.
For Ronin and the others, it was more than good enough.
From here on out, it was all about piling up real combat experience and putting in the hard grind.
At the same time, racing toward the Gorde Desert weren't just the Phantom Troupe— the Ten Dons had also unleashed their top muscle: the Shadow Beasts.
The chaos at the Cemetary Building had obviously reached the ears of the Ten Dons, the old men who ran the top ten mafia families across the six continents.
The Troupe's reckless rampage had pushed the Dons to immediately deploy the Beasts.
How the Shadow Beasts knew the Troupe would show up in the Gorde Desert? All thanks to a local gang boss named Zenji.
Bald guy, always wore round black shades, short and a little pudgy, but carried himself with that street-tough swagger and a mean streak.
He'd been in charge of security for the auction at the Cemetary Building. Since he was inside the whole time, he lucked out and avoided the meat-grinder battlefield outside.
Someone had tipped him off ahead of time: don't go out there, you'll die.
At first Zenji wasn't gonna listen.
But in the lobby, he ran into the guy who'd snatched the auction goods. That guy killed the gang members around Zenji but spared him, and as he walked past, muttered one last warning: stay inside.
So Zenji listened.
Outside, blood ran like rivers. Inside, Zenji was sweating bullets.
After the fighting stopped, that same mystery number sent him another message: a time and place where the Phantom Troupe would appear. If he wanted to redeem himself, claim full credit for discovering the location.
Zenji was a smart guy.
He reported the intel exactly as instructed, saying it came from his own local sources.
The Ten Dons bought it without question, and the Shadow Beasts headed straight for the Gorde Desert.
Still, Zenji couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut—like something bad was about to go down.
Out in the Gorde Desert, Ronin stood in light, comfortable clothes, patiently waiting for Uvogin to arrive.
And Uvogin showed up right on schedule—only he wasn't alone. Nobunaga and Machi trailed behind him.
Ronin could also sense hidden eyes watching from the shadows. No doubt more Troupe members were lurking out of sight.
"Coward," Ronin greeted, and Uvogin's temper flared instantly.
"You planning to rely on someone else's strength again this time?" Uvogin stepped forward.
He didn't open with trash talk like last time.
"What about you?" Ronin's gaze casually drifted to Uvogin's brand-new arm.
Uvogin snorted, clearly annoyed.
"You're not setting up a three-on-one, are you?" Ronin ignored the glare and smirked at Nobunaga and Machi. "What, are those two your parents? Didn't peg you for a big ugly guy who still needs his mommy and daddy."
"You're begging to die!" Machi and Nobunaga both went dark in the face.
Uvogin's aura exploded, and in a flash he charged straight at Ronin.
Ronin stepped forward to meet him—but in that same instant, four more figures burst up from the sand.
Four identical copies of Ronin, each with a different face: the exact look of the Sound Four from the old ninja comics, the ones who helped Orochimaru trap the Third Hokage.
Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu—an A-rank technique.
It let him create multiple solid clones at once. The moment those four appeared, they all formed the same hand signs.
Purple flames erupted around each clone, spreading fast to form a square barrier that completely enclosed both Ronin and Uvogin.
B-rank technique: Four Violet Flames Formation!
Ronin had come early on purpose. He'd used Multiple Shadow Clones ahead of time, had the clones disguise themselves and burrow underground with an earth-style jutsu, then waited for Uvogin to step close before triggering the barrier to lock just the two of them inside.
No matter how many Troupe members showed up, they'd be stuck outside the wall of flame—forced to watch Ronin and Uvogin duke it out one-on-one.
The other perk of pre-making the clones was that, while they waited underground, Ronin could use his "Zetsu" state to speed up recovery of the aura he'd spent creating them.
By now he wasn't at 100%, but he was easily above 80%—more than enough to handle Uvogin.
It was a shame he'd only recently fused the fifth pair of scarlet eyes; otherwise he could've set up even more tricks.
As he'd expected, that fifth pair had unlocked permission to use S-rank techniques.
The four clones raised smaller protective barriers around themselves too, making it tough for Uvogin to break the main wall from the inside.
The sudden change made Uvogin freeze mid-charge, and the two outside the barrier stopped in their tracks.
"You don't get out of this cage until you beat me," Ronin said, rolling his shoulders. His hands flashed through signs, and electric currents began crackling over his body.
Lightning Cloak mode.
Of course, saying "beat me to get out" was only half true.
By Ronin's estimate, without outside interference, the four clones could hold the Four Violet Flames Formation for about an hour.
Blue arcs snapped and popped around him, even changing his hairstyle a bit—making him look sharper, more aggressive, ready to strike.
Uvogin just grinned.
"Exactly what I wanted."
Powerful aura flared around him—but the next second his eyes narrowed, because Ronin had already vanished and reappeared right in his face.
Uvogin instinctively threw his Super Destructive Fist, hammering toward the side.
But there was no impact. In Uvogin's stunned vision, his outstretched arm simply flew off into the sand.
Hell Stab—Four-Finger Spear Hand!