The New Member's Identity is a Foregone Conclusion

"Gelman."

Chrollo finally spoke, his cold voice carrying a strangely convincing magnetism.

"You have passed the two trials of the Phantom Troupe."

"You brought back the 'Promised Ruby' and endured Pakunoda's 'Memory Bomb,' which proves your compatibility with the Phantom Troupe."

"Congratulations, you are now one of us—Member No. 8 of the Phantom Troupe."

"I need to make this clear upfront: the Phantom Troupe doesn't have many rules or restrictions. If conflicts arise between members, they're usually settled by a coin toss."

"Do whatever you want on your own time, go wherever you please—but you must show up for the 'gatherings.'"

After saying this, Chrollo smiled and nodded at Gelman.

It wasn't joy or satisfaction—just the smile the occasion demanded.

Gelman listened quietly to Chrollo's words, then raised a hand to remove his triangular black hat and gave a slight bow to Chrollo and the others.

"I understand."

As he bent his head, he blinked, recalling a memory from not long ago.

The "Promised Ruby" was a pair of priceless red gems. When placed together, they emitted a faint glow; when separated, the glow vanished.

The original Gelman had taken them by force from a gem merchant and delivered them to Chrollo.

As for Pakunoda's Memory Bomb, he remembered it was a Nen ability that extracted memories through touch.

Truly terrifying.

Still, Pakunoda had enough restraint—she only confirmed parts of his original identity, verifying that his background was real and that he bore no grudges against the Phantom Troupe.

If she had probed deeper—like his Nen ability or his weaknesses—the original Gelman would have resisted, and she wouldn't have seen much more.

It was precisely because of this Nen ability that the current Gelman couldn't refuse to join the Phantom Troupe on the spot.

He had no solid reason to convince them—he simply didn't want to join, nothing more.

Gelman's past in Meteor City and the world of professional assassins couldn't be faked; it was all verifiable.

Likewise, the original Gelman's eagerness to join the Phantom Troupe couldn't be faked either.

So why had Gelman suddenly changed his mind?

That was highly suspicious.

The Phantom Troupe could reasonably infer the following possibility:

Under the influence of some special Nen ability, Gelman had altered his memories for a certain purpose—even fooling Pakunoda—to perfectly infiltrate the Troupe's gathering.

Now that the goal was achieved or had failed, Gelman had "awakened to his true memories" through some means and chose to withdraw.

Once they reached that conclusion, the Phantom Troupe wouldn't let him leave until they uncovered the "truth."

And the entire interrogation would undoubtedly be led by Feitan.

Gelman didn't want to walk into that future.

In theory, the previous Gelman had already passed the test, so as long as the current Gelman was careful and didn't arouse suspicion, he'd be fine.

Leaving the Phantom Troupe would have to wait for the right opportunity—definitely not tonight.

Clap, clap, clap—

At that moment, Chrollo started applauding.

The others glanced at him and joined in with scattered claps.

Once the applause died down, Chrollo swept his gaze across the group before speaking again.

"Tonight's gathering isn't just for everyone to meet our new Member No. 4, Hisoka, and new Member No. 8, Gelman. There's also something else to announce."

"Next year, we'll have a 'group activity.'"

So that was it.

The others finally understood.

Chrollo had rarely called together both old and new members to meet and get familiar with each other—it turned out the focus was on next year's group activity.

Gelman was surprised to realize that this was another event that shouldn't have existed.

In the original timeline, after 1996, the Phantom Troupe held small-scale gatherings but never had a full reunion.

Not until 1999 did they all assemble for that year's group activity—robbing the largest Underground Auction in Yorknew City.

But this group activity had been moved up to 1998, which caught Gelman completely off guard.

And without a doubt, this group activity would be a bloody, violent slaughterfest.

The original Gelman might have been interested, but the current Gelman wasn't.

Chrollo wasn't finished.

"I'll inform everyone of the specific meeting point and time one to two months in advance next year. I hope all of you—no matter what pressing matters you have—will make it."

As he said this, Chrollo suddenly smiled and glanced at the usual absentees from small gatherings: Feitan and Hisoka.

Feitan said nothing, nodding curtly and cleanly.

Hisoka slowly raised his hand to his lips, delicately pinching a playing card from between them with his fingers.

"Hmm, Chrollo, were you saying that just for me?"

Hisoka's tone and gaze always carried a certain stickiness.

"What an honor. I can almost feel your love for me..."

"Yes." Chrollo admitted the former without hesitation. "I was saying it just for you."

"Ah... how wonderful... If you could satisfy a few of my little requests, I might agree to anything you ask..."

Snap.

But Chrollo ignored Hisoka, clapping his hands instead and sweeping his gaze across the group once more.

"Then tonight's gathering ends here. Dismissed."

Chrollo stood up, ending things cleanly.

He nodded to the others and headed toward the stairs of the Bell Tower, showing no intention of lingering to reminisce.

"How dull..."

Hisoka licked his lips with a smirk, waved a hand, and followed behind Chrollo as he left.

The members gathered tonight, including the newly joined Number 8, were only mildly interesting—but as expected, Chrollo was the one who intrigued him most.

The other Phantom Troupe members exchanged glances, then rose from their seats one after another.

They could see that Hisoka harbored some malicious obsession with Chrollo, so there was no way they'd let the two be alone.

The eleven Phantom Troupe members, each with their own motives, descended the stairs one by one and vanished into the vast darkness of the night.

In less than three minutes, the hall inside the Bell Tower fell into utter silence.

Gelman put his triangular black hat back on, stroked his chin, and sank into a meditative trance until a familiar voice roused him once more.

"Hey, have you decided?"

Machi stood before him, arms crossed, chin slightly lifted, locking eyes with him coldly, showing no sign of backing down.

"Decided what?"

"Where to put the tattoo, of course."

Tattoo?

Ah... right, every Phantom Troupe member bore a twelve-legged spider tattoo, with their member number on the spider's abdomen.

Since he'd come this far, he might as well see it through. Tattoos could always be dealt with later somehow.

Gelman glanced down at his left leg and pointed at it. "On the thigh, then."

"Mm."

Machi didn't waver, pulling out two needles that glinted coldly under the pale moonlight.

She tilted her chin, signaling Gelman to bare his thigh so she could finish the spider tattoo.

Was that how spider tattoos were done? Gelman wondered inwardly.

At Machi's prompting, he sat on the cold floor, rolled up his pant leg, and exposed his fairly sturdy thigh.

Machi gripped a needle in each hand and, without warning, stabbed down toward Gelman's thigh.

Shhh, shhh, shhh—

The speed was blinding; with his naked eye, Gelman could only see a blur of chaotic afterimages.

Gelman felt a numb, prickling sting on the skin of his thigh, and then he could see the outline of the twelve-legged spider tattoo already taking shape.