Kirok City was one city by day and another by night.
As the last glow of sunset sank below the horizon, neon lights took over.
Luxury storefronts shone along the main roads. Music and laughter drifted from upscale restaurants, while well-dressed patrons came and went from private clubs.
Deep in alleys beyond the reach of those lights, it was another world. Homeless people curled up in cardboard boxes, addicts made deals in the shadows, and patrol cars rolled past with red and blue lights flashing.
Leo and Sophia returned to their hotel after browsing the market until past seven.
Sophia had bought a few small handicrafts and eaten her fill of local snacks. She was in a good mood.
At eight, they had a simple dinner in their hotel room.
Sophia sorted through the information they had gathered that day, while Leo stood by the window, looking out over the city at night.
At the edge of the city stood an abandoned construction site.
It had once been the site of a shopping mall. But the developer had run out of funds, leaving behind a concrete skeleton with exposed rebar and mountains of discarded building materials.
Moonlight poured through holes in the damaged roof, casting patches of light and shadow across the ground.
High above, Chrollo Lucilfer stood in silence.
The hem of his fur-collared coat stirred in the night breeze. The inverted cross tattoo on his forehead appeared and vanished in the shadows.
His hands rested in his coat pockets and his posture was relaxed, but there was no warmth in his dark eyes. They were like pools of unfathomable cold.
Below him, seven figures appeared one after another.
Franklin arrived first. He looked up at Chrollo and gave a slight nod.
Machi came next, stepping out from behind a concrete pillar. Her purple-red hair held a dark crimson sheen beneath the moonlight, and her expression was as indifferent as ever.
Nobunaga wandered in from another direction, one hand resting on the hilt at his waist and a fresh blade of grass between his teeth.
Then came Pakunoda, Bonolenov, and Shirvam.
Pakunoda, her short hair neat and practical, stood in the middle of the open space.
Shirvam stood beside her in a white suit and gold-rimmed glasses.
Bonolenov sat down on a broken concrete slab.
Last, Omokage emerged from the deepest shadows.
He did not join the others. Instead, he leaned alone against a wall some distance away, arms folded.
His gaze moved between Chrollo and his companions, carrying an inscrutable scrutiny.
Chrollo slowly surveyed every face below him.
There were no greetings or pleasantries. A gathering of the Phantom Troupe was always like this: brief, efficient, and straight to the point.
"Our target this time,"
he said calmly, his voice echoing through the empty construction site,
"is every lot at the Xilirike auction."
Franklin grinned.
"No problem, Boss. We'll carry out your orders perfectly."
The others—Pakunoda, Bonolenov, Shirvam, Nobunaga, and Machi—all nodded. Some more visibly than others, but their meaning was clear.
Only Omokage remained silent. He merely shifted his stance and kept watching from the wall.
Chrollo's gaze rested on Omokage for a moment, then moved on.
He looked beyond the construction site, past its crumbling walls, toward the brilliantly lit city center.
The city was like an immense treasure vault, and the Xilirike Auction House was its most dazzling jewel box.
His voice remained calm, but each word cut through the air like an icicle.
"Now, I order you—"
He paused briefly.
"Take every treasure."
"And anyone who stands in your way—"
The faintest smile touched his lips, so slight it barely had a curve.
"—kill them all."
Moonlight slipped through a break in the clouds and lit the inverted cross on his forehead.
The Spider began to move.
At almost the same moment, on the roof of a seven-story building across from the Xilirike Auction House,
a hulking figure stood by the railing, looking down at the brightly lit stone building.
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 gave off the presence of a wild beast.
Mores.
He watched the luxury cars and elegantly dressed men and women passing through the auction house's front doors. There was no greed in his eyes, only an almost cruel satisfaction.
It was as though he saw not an auction, but a flock of fat sheep awaiting slaughter.
He bared his yellow teeth in a grin.
"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 landed.
The cabin door opened and the boarding stairs lowered.
A tall, slender figure appeared in the doorway.
Flame-red hair whipped wildly in the night breeze. Even without hairspray, it held its outrageous shape.
On his deathly pale face, a blue teardrop was painted beneath his left eye and a gold star beneath his right.
His makeup was so precise it was eerie, yet it lent him no femininity. Instead, it gave him a dangerous allure.
He wore a clownlike outfit: loose balloon pants and a tight top, riotously colorful yet strangely harmonious.
A half smile played on his lips, at once like that of an innocent child and a bloodthirsty demon.
Hisoka.
He walked down the stairs, his pointed shoes clicking sharply against the ground.
The airport staff instinctively took several steps back.
No one had told them to. It was the instinct of living creatures facing danger. The aura around this man brought to mind a drawn bowstring, an unsheathed blade, a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Hisoka paid no attention to the looks around him.
He drew a deep breath of the night air, narrowed his eyes, and lightly ran his tongue over his upper lip.
"Mmm~♥"
A delighted trill escaped his throat.
He looked toward the city center, his golden pupils narrowing to slits in the light.
Then he set off for the airport exit.
The crowd parted on its own wherever he went.
The next evening, at 7:45.
Leo and Sophia stood on the roof of a five-story building across the street from the Xilirike Auction House.
They had been there for ten minutes.
The rooftop offered an excellent view of everything happening at the auction house's front entrance. Luxury cars arrived one after another, prominent guests in evening gowns and suits filed inside, and camera flashes went off as reporters lined both sides of the red carpet.
Sophia looked down at the crowd. Her lips parted, but she said nothing.
Leo leaned against the railing, his gaze passing calmly over the glittering figures below. "I know what you're thinking."
Sophia turned toward him.
"If we stand here and do nothing, and an attack really happens... the people down there might die."
Sophia nodded, her expression conflicted.
Leo continued, his tone even.
"Even if you rushed in right now and managed to stop the attack, those finely dressed people wouldn't thank you. They'd think you were only doing what you should. Some might even complain that you hadn't done enough, that you'd spoiled 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's within your power. Don't take every burden onto your own shoulders—you'll only wear yourself out, and things often won't turn out the way you hoped."
Sophia was silent for a long time.
The night breeze stirred her blue hair, and the auction house lights flickered in her eyes.
At last, she sighed softly.
"I understand, Master."
Leo nodded and said no more.
Some truths had to be learned for oneself. More words would not help.
Time passed, second by second.
Eight o'clock.
Inside the auction house, all the lights suddenly dimmed, leaving a single spotlight at the center of the stage.
A figure walked onto the stage.
She was a woman of about thirty in a deep-purple off-the-shoulder evening gown. Her hair was swept up high, revealing a long, graceful neck.
She walked with composure and confidence. At the auction podium, she rested both hands lightly on its surface.
There was a soft click as the microphone came on.
"Ladies and gentlemen—"
Her clear, pleasant voice carried just the right blend of warmth and ceremony. It rang through the hall and even reached faintly into the street outside.
"The Xilirike auction is now—officially open!"
Polite, restrained applause rose from the audience.
The woman spread her arms, her face lighting up with a practiced yet infectious smile.
"Welcome, everyone! We're delighted to have you here today!"
Her gaze swept over the faces below, some expectant, some reserved, and some certain they would get what they wanted.
"Gathered here are extraordinary treasures of every kind!"
She paused, then raised her voice slightly, giving her words an enticing edge.
"Please—bid to your hearts' content on whatever captures them!"
The applause came again, warmer than before.
The auction had officially begun.
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