"Doesn't a spider usually only have one head?"
"A head can be divided into a left brain and a right brain, too."
Chrollo even made a rare joke:
"Alright, now we have both a Leader and a Vice-Leader. But there's something else I need to explain."
"The team isn't a restraint on its members. Aside from necessary gatherings for major activities, members are free to act on their own at other times."
"And to ensure that our team can continue existing in its best form, once our thirteen-member roster is full, if anyone else wants to join the Troupe..." His expression gradually calmed. "They can first kill one of the existing members, then take that person's place as a new member."
The moment those words were spoken, everyone's expressions shifted.
Uvogin grinned, while Feitan looked rather arrogant and disdainful.
Both of them had absolute confidence that they would never be taken down and replaced by someone else.
Still for the Troupe's continued existence? Morin thought.
Clearly, Chrollo had established this rule not only to ensure that the Troupe could continuously grow stronger.
More importantly, it was meant to motivate the members not to slack off.
Getting killed and replaced by someone else would be far too pathetic.
"But if a member dies for some other reason, the Leader will also take the initiative to seek out a new member."
Chrollo lightly turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the room. "That's the gist of what I have in mind."
The Troupe Is Established
"Any other questions?" Chrollo asked.
"What if disagreements arise between members?"
Franklin asked, "Would the minority obey the majority?"
XIX?
Chrollo shook his head. "That could easily cause instability and division within the team."
"Better to flip a coin."
Morin added, "Each side has a fifty-percent chance. Whichever side heaven favors, we leave it to fate."
"That's a good method."
Chrollo smiled at Morin.
Franklin thought it over and had no further objections.
"Alright, does anyone else have any thoughts?"
Chrollo asked again.
No one answered.
"Then our team is officially established."
A smile blossomed on Chrollo's face once more. "To announce our existence to the outside world, I intend for everyone to get a spider tattoo."
"There are thirteen of us in total, so the spider tattoos will be marked with numbers from zero to twelve, representing our respective numbers."
He looked at Machi. "As for the tattoos, I'll leave them to you, Machi."
"Leave it to me."
Machi pulled out the fine threads around her wrist. "So your number is zero, right, Chrollo?"
"No, I suppose I should call you... Leader now?"
"You could say that."
Chrollo smiled gently.
"So where do you want it tattooed?"
"On my back?"
Chrollo looked toward the others as well. "You can each choose whichever number you like."
No one spoke. Instead, they all looked toward Morin first.
"Since you're number zero, I'll take the next one. I'll be number one."
As Morin spoke, he also glanced at Nobunaga.
In the original version, Nobunaga had the number one spider tattoo.
"Morin, you're taking number one?"
Uvogin seemed to be calculating something, then slammed his fist into his palm.
"Then I'll pick number eleven!"
As he spoke, he bumped his fist. "I plan to make you my target. Sooner or later, I'll defeat you head-on."
He grinned. "So my number has to be one higher than yours. I'll crush you first through the numbers!"
"What kind of bullshit logic is that?!"
Nobunaga looked at him speechlessly.
Then he thought for a moment. "My birthday is in July, so I'll take number eight."
"Then why didn't you take number seven?"
"Because I want to. What's it to you?!"
The two of them started bickering again.
"Since Nobunaga doesn't want number seven..."
The large Franklin casually picked one. "Then I'll take number seven."
"I'll take the next one down."
Feitan held up two fingers. "Give me number two."
"Then I'm number three."
Machi, who was tattooing Chrollo's spider tattoo, continued.
"I like the number nine."
Pakunoda held up her ample chest with both hands, choosing according to her own preference in this regard as well.
Thus, the eight numbers—zero, one, two, three, seven, eight, nine, and eleven—were decided.
Other than Morin taking number one and the original number one, Nobunaga, becoming number eight, the rest remained unchanged.
"Oh, right, Lea...der."
Uvogin was still somewhat unused to the title. "Our team should have a name, shouldn't it?"
"Otherwise, always calling it the team, the team—it doesn't sound satisfying enough."
"Of course."
Chrollo nodded lightly. A team name was crucial to the group's cohesion.
And a good name could further strengthen the members' sense of recognition and belonging.
"I thought of one long ago."
Before the team had even been established, he had already decided on the name.
"It'll be called..." Chrollo said with a smile.
"The Phantom Troupe."
A breeze swept past, brushing away the dust. Waves of turmoil were about to rise across this land.
In 1996, the Phantom Troupe was officially established in the buffer zone of Meteor City.
There were eight founding members.
Leader: Chrollo Lucilfer (No. 0).
Vice-Leader: Morin (No. 1).
Members: Feitan (No. 2), Machi (No. 3), Franklin (No. 7), Nobunaga Chachama (No. 8), Pakunoda (No. 9), Uvogin (No. 11).
No one objected to the name Phantom Troupe.
After the Troupe was established and everyone had confirmed their numbers, Machi tattooed a spider onto each person's body.
Most of them were tattooed on the back, like Chrollo, Morin, and Uvogin.
By the time Machi finished, the sun had completely set.
Under cover of night, the group headed toward the outskirts of Meteor City.
Although Meteor City was a landfill, leaving it was fairly easy.
As long as one could make it through the garbage heaps, they could easily reach the outside world.
Of course, those who left alone and unnoticed had no proof of social existence, and even their identities were a problem. There was a high chance they would become undocumented fugitives or vagrants.
Those powerful people who genuinely wanted to seek a proper way out usually left through Meteor City's Council of Elders, employed by those mafia families.
The mafia families provided them with identification, while they provided the strength to serve as enforcers. It was mutually beneficial.
Even a family of assassins like the Zoldycks found the head of the family's spouse and the family's butlers in Meteor City.
Threads, So Amazing!!
Whether it was Killua's mother Kikyo, the butler Gotoh, or the apprentice butler Canary, all of them came from Meteor City.
But after Morin, Uvogin, and Nobunaga had offended the elders, that route was basically closed to them.
And even if it were possible, they had no intention of becoming someone else's enforcers.
To pass through the garbage heaps, they either had to rely on Nen defenses to avoid the radiation and walk out, or hitch a ride on a garbage truck from the outside world that had come to dump its trash.
Of those present, only Chrollo, Morin, Machi, Uvogin, and Nobunaga had mastered Nen, and the latter three were still half-baked beginners.
So Feitan could only find a relatively spacious vehicle. After knocking out the driver, the group got in and left.
It was not because Feitan had gone soft and spared the driver's life.
One rule between Meteor City and the outside world that could not be ignored was that drivers transporting garbage were not to be killed.
The people of Meteor City still needed these drivers to bring garbage in so they could survive.
If they killed them whenever they pleased, then once no one came to transport garbage, Meteor City would not be far from riots and decline.
On this wilderness, beneath the pitch-black night sky.
Under the bright moonlight, trucks could occasionally be seen driving in from the outside world, loaded with mountains of garbage as they headed toward Meteor City.
When one drove a large truck, with an arm resting outside the window and their gaze cast toward the endless desert in the distance, especially beneath a high-hanging moon.
A feeling of boundless freedom naturally arose.
Although none of them knew the routes to the cities, plenty of vehicles traveled through this desert. If they simply followed any returning vehicle, they would eventually find a place where people gathered.
The one driving was Franklin, the eldest brother of the group.
He was older, more experienced, and knew more practical life skills.
Uvogin sat in the passenger seat, laughing loudly and yelling at the boundless wilderness outside.
In the cargo compartment at the back, Chrollo and Morin were explaining Nen abilities to Feitan and Pakunoda.
Up front, Franklin drove while listening along.
Before you continue