Converging from All Sides, Grand Opening

Kirok City by night and by day were two different cities.

When the last glow of the setting sun sank below the horizon, neon lights took over the city.

The display windows of luxury stores lining the main roads blazed with light. Faint music and laughter drifted from upscale restaurants, while people in suits and formal wear came and went from all kinds of exclusive clubs.

Yet deep within the alleys untouched by those lights lay another scene—homeless people curled up in cardboard boxes, addicts making deals in the shadows, and patrol cars slowly passing by with red and blue lights flashing.

Leo and Sophia returned to the hotel after browsing the market until a little past seven.

Sophia had bought several little handicrafts, filled herself with local snacks, and was in a very good mood.

At eight that evening, the two had a simple dinner in their hotel room.

Sophia organized the intelligence she had gathered that day, while Leo stood by the window, gazing out at the city at night.

On the outskirts of the city stood an abandoned construction site.

It had once been the site of a shopping mall, but the developer's funding had collapsed, leaving the project unfinished. All that remained was a concrete skeleton of exposed rebar and mountains of discarded construction materials.

Moonlight poured through holes in the damaged roof, casting patches of interwoven light and shadow across the ground.

On an elevated platform, Chrollo Lucilfer stood silently.

The hem of his fur-collared coat stirred faintly in the night wind, while the inverted cross tattoo on his forehead flickered in and out of sight within the shadows.

His hands were tucked into his coat pockets, his posture relaxed, but there was not a trace of warmth in those pitch-black eyes, like a bottomless frozen pool.

Below him, seven figures appeared one after another.

Franklin arrived first. He looked up at Chrollo and gave a slight nod.

Machi followed, emerging from behind a concrete pillar. Her purplish-red hair gleamed darkly beneath the moonlight, and her expression was as indifferent as ever.

Nobunaga sauntered in from another direction, one hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his waist, a freshly replaced blade of grass between his lips.

Then came Pakunoda, Bonolenov, and Shirvam.

Pakunoda's short hair was neat and efficient as she stood in the center of the open space.

Shirvam, dressed in a white suit and wearing gold-rimmed glasses, stood beside Pakunoda.

Bonolenov simply sat atop a broken slab of concrete.

Finally, Omokage emerged from the deepest shadows.

He did not join the others. Instead, he leaned alone against a wall in the distance, arms crossed.

His gaze moved back and forth between Chrollo and the others, carrying an indescribable scrutiny.

Chrollo's gaze slowly swept over every face below.

No greetings, no small talk. The Troupe had always gathered like this—concise, efficient, and straight to the point.

"This time, our target."

His calm voice echoed through the empty construction site.

"Is every item at the Xilirike Auction House."

Franklin grinned, revealing a faint smile.

"No problem, Boss. We'll carry out your orders perfectly."

The others—Pakunoda, Bonolenov, Shirvam, Nobunaga, and Machi—all nodded. Their motions varied in degree, but their meaning was clear.

Only Omokage remained silent. He merely shifted his stance and continued watching from against the wall.

Chrollo's gaze lingered on Omokage for an instant before moving away.

His eyes turned beyond the construction site, past the ruined walls, toward the brightly lit city center in the distance.

That city was like a massive treasure vault, and the Xilirike Auction House was the most dazzling jewel box within it.

His voice remained calm, yet every word pierced the air like an ice spike.

"Now, I order you—"

A brief pause.

"Take all the treasures."

"And anyone who stands in your way—"

The corners of his mouth lifted in an almost imperceptible smile.

"—kill them all."

Moonlight slipped through a gap in the clouds, illuminating the inverted cross on his forehead.

The Spider began to move.

At almost the same time, on the rooftop of a seven-story building opposite the Xilirike Auction House.

A huge figure stood by the railing, looking down at the brightly lit stone building below.

He stood over seven and a half feet tall, his muscles bulging like blocks of granite. He wore only a simple tank top and trousers, yet he radiated the aura of a wild beast.

Mores.

He stared at the luxury cars entering and leaving the auction house, and the finely dressed men and women passing through its doors. There was no greed in his eyes, only an almost cruel satisfaction.

As though what he saw was not an auction, but a flock of fat sheep waiting for slaughter.

He bared a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Tomorrow night... all those treasures will be mine."

He turned, went downstairs, and vanished into the night.

Kirok City Airport. At 9:20 p.m., an airship slowly descended.

The cabin door opened, and the boarding stairs were lowered.

A tall, slender figure appeared in the doorway.

Flame-like crimson hair danced wildly in the night wind. Even without any hair gel, it retained its exaggerated shape.

On his deathly pale face, a blue teardrop was painted beneath his left eye, while a golden star lay beneath his right.

His makeup was exquisitely bizarre, yet did not make him look feminine in the slightest. Instead, it gave him a dangerous allure.

He wore clown-like attire—loose balloon pants and a tight-fitting top, the colors vivid yet unexpectedly harmonious.

A half-smile hung at the corner of his lips, one that was both like an innocent child's and a bloodthirsty demon's.

Hisoka.

He stepped down the boarding stairs, the pointed shoes on his feet clicking crisply against the ground.

The airport staff instinctively backed away a few steps.

Not because of any order, but because of a living creature's instinct when faced with danger—the aura this man exuded called to mind a drawn bowstring, an unsheathed blade, a volcano on the verge of erupting.

Hisoka paid no attention to the looks around him.

He took a deep breath of the night air, narrowed his eyes slightly, and lightly ran his tongue across his upper lip.

"Mm~♥"

A pleased trill escaped his throat.

His gaze turned toward the city center, his golden pupils narrowing into thin slits beneath the lights.

He began walking toward the airport exit.

Wherever he passed, the crowd automatically parted to make way.

The following day, 7:45 p.m.

On the rooftop of a five-story building across the street from the Xilirike Auction House.

Leo and Sophia had already been there for ten minutes.

The rooftop offered an excellent view, allowing them to clearly observe every movement at the auction house's main entrance—luxury cars arrived one after another, prominent guests in evening gowns and suits entered in succession, camera flashes went off from time to time, and reporters crowded along both sides of the red carpet.

Sophia looked at the crowd below, her lips moving as though she wanted to speak but stopped herself.

Leaning against the railing, Leo calmly swept his gaze over those glamorous figures and spoke flatly.

"I know what you're thinking."

Sophia turned to look at him.

"We're standing by and doing nothing. If an attack really happens... the people down there might die."

Sophia nodded, her expression conflicted.

Leo continued, his tone unchanged.

"Even if you rush in now and successfully stop the attack, those well-dressed people won't thank you. They'll think it was simply your duty, and some might even complain that you didn't do well enough—that you disturbed their enjoyment and ruined the atmosphere of the auction."

He paused and looked at Sophia.

"People have to rely on themselves. We aren't gods. We can't save everyone. Just do what you can, and don't take everything onto your shoulders—otherwise, you'll only wear yourself out, and things will often turn out the opposite of what you intended."

Sophia was silent for a long time.

The night wind stirred her blue hair, and the lights of the distant auction house flickered in her eyes.

At last, she softly sighed.

"I understand, Master."

Leo nodded and said no more.

Some truths had to be understood for oneself. No matter how much was said, it would be useless.

Time passed second by second.

Eight o'clock sharp.

Inside the auction house, all the lights suddenly dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight at the center of the stage.

A figure walked onto the stage.

She was a woman in her thirties, dressed in a dark-purple off-the-shoulder evening gown. Her hair was swept up high, exposing her slender neck.

She walked with composed steps and an imposing presence. Reaching the auction podium, she gently placed both hands on its surface.

The sound of the microphone activating rang softly.

"Ladies and gentlemen—"

Her voice was clear and pleasant, carrying just the right blend of enthusiasm and solemnity. It traveled through the sound system across the entire hall and even faintly reached the street outside.

"The Xilirike Auction is now—officially open!"

Polite, restrained applause rose from below the stage.

The woman spread her arms, a professional yet deeply infectious smile blooming across her face.

"Welcome, everyone. We are honored by your presence today!"

Her gaze swept over the faces below, some expectant, some reserved, and some determined to win.

"Gathered here are rare and extraordinary treasures of every distinctive kind!"

She paused, raising her voice slightly with an enticing charm.

"Please—bid freely for whatever your hearts desire!!"

Applause rose again, a little more enthusiastic than before.

The auction had officially begun.