Regarding the black-clothed man saying he wanted to keep an eye on him, Kisho's response was: whatever. There were already so many people watching him anyway—one more didn't matter.
After the black-clothed man left, Kisho made a round through the underground laboratory. As expected, he didn't find a single man that slipped through the net.
After that, he returned to the surface along the same route.
The night was thick, insects and birds murmured softly.
Kisho found a tall, lush tree nearby and rested on it for the night. It wasn't until the sunlight fell on his body the next day that he woke up.
This was the most comfortable sleep he had had in a long time.
Kisho jumped down from the tree, faced the sunlight, and stretched lazily.
He put his hands into his pockets and strolled unhurriedly down the mountain.
The matter of the raw liquid and Bankro had finally come to an end.
The troublesome poison addiction that had trapped him for over two months was completely resolved.
Everything was perfect—well, it would be even more perfect if there weren't that annoying Chrollo and that annoying wager.
Kisho took stock of the things he was carrying.
A suit—bearing the emblem of the Bankro family. Best to change out of it as soon as possible.
Two stones: one was the liquid titanium ore Amos had given him, which he planned to give to someone to settle a debt; the other was a spice stone raw ore Anida had given him, which he would keep carefully as a souvenir.
A three-edged spike—hidden in his elbow.
And also the two instruments placed inside the Nen book, as well as the anonymous credit card that Vervik had issued to the hired hands while they were on the ship.
After pulling out this credit card, Kisho let out a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, he still had this card. Otherwise, he was afraid he really would have had to walk back to Meteor City on his own two legs.
...
A few days later...
Kisho took an airship and arrived at the small town closest to Meteor City.
He was already very familiar with this town and easily found the direction toward Meteor City.
After passing through the town, Kisho moved slowly through a desert.
Gales howled, sweeping up sand and dust.
Kisho pulled his hat brim low, poured Nen into his feet, and charged forward against the fierce wind across the soft, collapsing sand.
Moments later, towering mountains of garbage that pierced the clouds came into Kisho's view.
And those people standing atop the garbage mountains, upon seeing this rapidly approaching kid who wasn't wearing any protective gear, all tensed up and silently moved away in the opposite direction from Kisho.
Kisho glanced at that group of people, then withdrew his gaze and continued forward.
Although it had been less than a month since he left this place, stepping back in again still made him feel as if a lifetime had passed.
After returning here, he originally wanted to contact Amos first, but the only phone that could reach Amos had completely broken, so he gave up.
"But this is actually pretty good."
Kisho tossed the broken phone toward the garbage mountain.
"It also saves Amos from getting dragged into the Phantom Troupe's business with me."
He shrugged and muttered to himself:
"...For people brushing up against an A-rank wanted notice, having just one of me is enough."
Kisho sped forward along the route he remembered.
He passed through the residential area of District Five, then crossed countless towering garbage mountains in the wasteland, until—
A dilapidated, dangerous-looking building from the outside stood on the back side of the garbage mountains, blocked by layers upon layers of undulating trash hills.
"Why does it feel like there are more garbage mountains here than elsewhere?"
Kisho stopped on top of a garbage mountain and looked around.
"It's not just a bit more— they even look kind of similar... is this an illusion?"
After looking for a while without finding anything unusual, Kisho simply stopped thinking about it, withdrew his gaze, and focused on the three-story dangerous building not far away.
"...It really doesn't look like somewhere people could live."
Kisho thought to himself.
But who would have imagined that this was the base of the infamous Phantom Troupe?
He stood quietly in place, adjusted his breathing, and made his preparations, ready to face what was about to happen.
Perhaps because he had wandered between life and death too many times recently, his heart had grown numb. When it came to meeting that group of people, Kisho found himself— even to his own surprise— not feeling much fear.
"Besides, no matter what, I have to take my Nen ability back."
He murmured, his gaze growing ever firmer.
"—If I want to go further in this world."
Thinking this, he leapt down from the garbage mountain.
...
At the same time, the first floor of the Troupe's base.
A small figure with loose blue long hair covering their entire face suddenly stopped what they were doing and spoke in a calm voice:
"Someone is approaching."
In one corner of the room, four people were sitting in a circle playing cards.
One of them, a huge man with animal pelts draped over his shoulders, slammed the cards in his hand onto the ground and stood up.
"Who's got the guts to come here?"
He bared his teeth in a vicious grin.
"Perfect— I was just getting itchy—"
He looked at the blue-haired small figure who had just spoken and asked:
"Are there many of them?"
"Not many."
The blue-haired small figure raised one finger.
"Only one."
"...Tch, boring."
The man instantly lost interest, sat back down on the ground, and began picking up the playing cards one by one.
"Wait! That card is one you already played earlier!"
In the card game, a blond young man suddenly reached out and pressed down on a certain card the man was about to pick up, speaking irritably.
"Is that so?"
The interrupted man flashed a toothy grin.
"Hey!"
The blond young man's face darkened.
"You did it on purpose, didn't you?!"
"...I'll go take a look."
Another purple-haired girl with a ponytail stacked the cards in her hand into a neat pile.
"We can continue after I get back— Shalnark, even if Uvogin doesn't pick up that card, you're still guaranteed to lose this round."
The blond young man: "..."
However, before anyone could move, the young man who had been sitting quietly on the sofa in the center of the first floor reading— wearing a black coat with an inverted cross and white collar— put down his book and slowly stood up.
His movement drew the attention of the others.
"Eh?"
The blond young man spoke.
"Is the boss going to handle that guy personally?"
"According to what Kortopi said," the young man smiled slightly. "It might be someone familiar."
He raised his hand to cover his mouth, thought for a moment, and muttered to himself:
"...It's about this time, too."
"Someone familiar?"
The others in the room froze when they heard this, their interest immediately piqued by the "familiar person" mentioned by the boss.
But the young man had no intention of explaining further and walked out slowly.
As a result, no one continued playing cards. Those playing games upstairs stopped as well. One after another, they followed the young man and came outside the building.
Outside, a boy stood with his back to the wind and sand, calmly meeting everyone's gaze.
The boy's eyes swept across everyone's faces, finally settling on the young man standing at the very front.
"Yo~"
When Shalnark saw Kisho, a trace of surprise flashed through his emerald-green eyes, as if he hadn't expected to see this kid alive again.
He waved at Kisho.
"Long time no see~"
Kisho didn't really understand where Shalnark's inexplicable enthusiasm was coming from.
With a darkened expression, he responded:
"Yeah, it's been a long time."
Then, he looked at a certain someone wearing a thoughtful expression.
After a moment, he spoke calmly:
"According to your request, I'm here."
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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