Inside the Xilirike Auction House.
A beautiful auctioneer stood beneath the spotlight, pointing to a small jade carving from an ancient civilization on the display stand as she explained its history, craftsmanship, and provenance in a pleasant, well-trained voice.
Nearly all of the more than five hundred seats were occupied, and every face represented considerable wealth or power.
"...In conclusion, this Moon Goddess Maid Statue is not only a masterpiece of art, but also a witness to history. The starting bid is fifty million Jenny!"
The auction hammer fell with a crisp crack.
"Let the bidding begin!"
Before her words had faded, someone in the audience raised a hand.
A second followed, then a third... Arms rose like a forest, bidding gestures appearing one after another.
The auctioneer's gaze swept swiftly across the room as she clearly announced the ever-climbing bids.
"Fifty-five million! Sixty million! Sixty-three million! Yes, that lady offers sixty-eight million! Seventy million! Eighty-"
"I bid ten billion."
The voice was not loud.
But like a pebble dropped into a still lake, it instantly overwhelmed every other sound.
It was neither a shout nor a roar, only a calm statement.
Yet it carried a mountain-like weight, reaching every ear with perfect clarity.
The entire room abruptly fell silent.
Everyone-the auctioneer, the bidders, the security guards, and the staff-turned in unison toward the source of the voice.
A burly figure stood at the entrance.
His suit looked somewhat tight, the fabric outlining the rock-like bulges of muscle beneath it.
With both hands in his trouser pockets, he tilted his head up slightly and looked down over the entire hall, an almost outrageously arrogant smile on his face.
Mores.
He slowly opened his right hand, then abruptly clenched it.
"Everything here-"
His voice echoed through the deathly silent hall.
"-I'm buying it all."
After a brief, deathly silence, an old man in the VIP section sprang to his feet. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, his hair was meticulously combed, and his face flushed red with anger.
"What gives you the right?!"
His voice was shrill, steeped in the arrogance of someone long accustomed to power.
Mores looked at him, his smile widening to reveal gleaming white teeth.
"The fact that I-"
He paused and extended his right index finger.
"Can kill every last person in this room."
The instant he finished speaking, a white Nen bullet the size of a peanut formed at his fingertip.
No charge-up, no warning, just a gentle flick-the Nen bullet tore through the air with a faint, piercing whistle.
Before the old man could even react, the Nen bullet struck him between the eyebrows.
Bang!
It was not a gunshot, but something duller and far more chilling.
The old man's head burst like a watermelon.
Red, white, shattered bone-all splattered across the faces and bodies of those around him, staining their expensive gowns and suits.
Time seemed to freeze.
One second. Two seconds.
Then the screaming erupted!
Not from one person, but from dozens, hundreds at once, their screams mingling with terror and despair!
The crowd scattered like an exploding ant colony. Some tried to run outside, some collapsed in their seats, and some bent over the railings to vomit.
But Mores simply stood where he was, his smile unchanged.
He raised a hand and made a shushing gesture.
Strangely enough, the hall really did fall silent-not willingly, but with the paralysis of absolute terror.
Everyone stared fixedly at him, afraid to move, afraid to speak, even holding their breath.
"That demonstration was clear enough."
Mores's voice remained calm, but in that silence, it sounded especially harsh.
"You'd better cooperate with me."
He surveyed the room, his gaze that of a butcher inspecting livestock awaiting slaughter.
"Otherwise-you all die."
In a corner of the hall, in the shadows beside the wall.
Two men sat quietly, utterly unmoved by the bloody scene.
Nobunaga tilted his head, shifting the blade of grass between his lips.
"Well, what do you know... We're not the only ones who had our eyes on this auction."
He looked at Franklin beside him, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"And... he's even more brazen than we are."
Franklin remained expressionless, his massive body like a stone statue in the seat.
He glanced at Mores by the entrance and gave a contemptuous snort.
"Brazen people usually die fast."
"So?"
Nobunaga asked.
"So..."
Franklin pulled the tie from his neck, tossed it onto the floor, and slowly stood.
"It's my turn."
His movements were slow, but every one carried tremendous weight.
His suit jacket stretched taut, its buttons looking ready to burst off at any moment.
The audience around him scrambled aside in terror-the presence emanating from this giant was no less menacing than that of the murderer at the entrance.
On the rooftop of a five-story building across the street from the Xilirike Auction House.
Leo's pupils suddenly contracted.
He noticed several figures in the distant street, walking unhurriedly toward the auction house entrance.
Six people.
Leading them was a black-haired man in a fur-collared coat. Even in the darkness, the inverted cross tattoo on his forehead was clearly visible.
His pace was as relaxed as someone out for a stroll, yet every step carried an indescribable rhythm.
Chrollo Lucilfer.
To his left was a woman with purplish-red hair and an indifferent expression: Machi.
To his right was a capable-looking woman with short hair, Pakunoda.
A little farther behind was Bonolenov, wrapped entirely in bandages.
There was also Omokage, wearing a long black coat.
Bringing up the rear was a man in a white suit with an effeminate air, someone Leo had never seen before.
The Phantom Troupe.
Leo's heart clenched.
He had not expected this. He truly had not.
Mores, a class-A wanted criminal, was already enough trouble. Now even the Phantom Troupe had arrived-with their leader personally heading the group, along with six members.
This was no longer something he could handle.
Just as Leo was rapidly weighing his options, Chrollo suddenly stopped in the distance.
He turned his head toward Leo's position.
Across more than a hundred meters, through the darkness and the reflections off the glass, those eyes looked his way.
Leo instantly activated Zetsu, completely suppressing his presence as he drew back deeper into the shadows.
One second. Two seconds.
In the distance, Machi turned to ask Chrollo.
"Boss, is something wrong?"
Chrollo watched the rooftop for two seconds in silence, then slowly turned back.
"Was it my imagination?"
His voice was very soft.
"Let's go inside."
The five continued toward the auction house entrance.
Only after their figures vanished through the doors did Leo slowly breathe out.
"I never expected..."
He murmured, his voice a little dry.
"Even they're here."
Sensing something wrong in his tone, Sophia stepped closer.
"Master, what's wrong?"
Leo stared at the auction house, speaking each word distinctly.
"The Phantom Troupe is here too."
Sophia's face instantly went pale.
Over these past few months of hunting wanted criminals with Leo, she had learned that they were among the most dangerous groups of fugitives.
Every member possessed extraordinary strength. They had no moral limits, slaughtered without hesitation, and had never been successfully captured by the Hunter Association.
"Then are we..."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"Still going to capture Mores?"
Leo did not answer immediately.
He leaned against the railing and closed his eyes, his mind racing.
Give up. Give up now. With the entire Phantom Troupe mobilized, this isn't a situation I can interfere in.
Retreat with Sophia-that's the right choice.
But another emotion surged within him.
It was neither fear nor excitement, but something... more complicated.
All this time, Leo had always taken the safest route.
From hunting cautiously in the hidden realm, to steadily improving at Heaven's Arena, to pursuing wanted criminals whose strength he could manage.
He calculated the risks at every step, never allowing himself to fall into a truly desperate situation.
He had thought he was doing well.
But now, watching the Phantom Troupe enter the auction house, watching a conflict about to erupt that far surpassed anything he had experienced before, his heart pounded wildly.
It was not fear.
It was... yearning.
He remembered what Biscuit had said after a training session on the Moonlight Tundra.
Back then, he had been rather pleased with himself, believing he was progressing quickly.
But Biscuit had shaken her head, a hint of disappointment in her eyes.
"Leo, your talent really is exceptional. But do you know what? You're missing something."
"What?"
"A heart willing to fight hard and face danger head-on."
Biscuit sat cross-legged on the glowing moss, moonlight shining on her golden twin tails.
"You're too cautious. You calculate the gains and losses of every step and hold something back in every fight. For ordinary people, that's a strength. But for an Enhancement Type... it's a fatal weakness."
She looked at Leo, her gaze earnest.
"What is the essence of the Enhancement Type? Purity. Directness. Concentrating all your power into a single point and unleashing it."
"Your caution keeps you from bringing those qualities to their fullest potential."
"That's why your strength has hit a bottleneck-not in your body, but in your heart."
At the time, Leo had dismissed it.
What's wrong with playing it safe? I can only get stronger if I stay alive.
But now... now he understood.
Leo opened his eyes and looked down at his right hand.
He opened his palm, then clenched it, his knuckles whitening slightly from the force.
Then he smiled.
It was neither a happy smile nor a mocking one, but a smile of release, carrying a certain resolve.
"All this time..."
He spoke so softly that only he could hear.
"I've only been playing in the minor leagues."
Sophia looked at him in confusion.
"Master?"
Leo took a deep breath, raised his head, and looked at the bright moon in the night sky.
Moonlight spilled across his face, illuminating the fire slowly kindling in his eyes.
Biscuit was right.
He had always believed he was on the right path.
But no one became truly strong by hiding in a safe zone and grinding weak mobs.
To grow stronger, he had to face stronger opponents.
To reach the summit, he had to cross treacherous peaks.
Leo turned and looked at the tightly shut doors of the Xilirike Auction House.
Light shone through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the ground.
Behind those doors were the Phantom Troupe, Class A wanted criminals, and factions seeking to seize the treasures or save their own lives.
Chaos, slaughter, danger-but that also meant opportunity.
"It's time..."
Leo's voice was quiet, but every word was as crisp as a blade slicing across ice.
"...to play in the big leagues."
He turned to Sophia, his expression more serious than she had ever seen.
"Sophia, what happens next is beyond anything you can take part in. No matter what happens, no matter what you see or hear-don't come out. Find somewhere to hide and wait for me to come back."
Sophia's eyes widened.
"But... Master! It's too dangerous! The Phantom Troupe-"
"I know."
Leo cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"That's exactly why I have to go."
He paused, taking in the worry threatening to spill from Sophia's eyes, and his lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile.
"Don't worry. Your master..."
He patted his chest.
"...won't die here that easily."
Leo turned away from Sophia to face the auction house.
The night breeze stirred the hem of his clothes, and the moonlight stretched his shadow across the rooftop.
Then he said those words.
His voice was not loud, but it sounded like an oath, a declaration, the first long roar of a beast finally breaking free of its shackles-
"I! Will reach the very-"
He paused for a moment, as though savoring the weight of every word.
"-top! Of! This world!!!"
As his words fell, the aura around him abruptly changed.
It was no longer restrained, no longer suppressed.
Nen aura poured from his body-not in an explosive burst, but like an unsealed volcano, flowing naturally and unstoppably.
The flaring aura was clearly visible in the darkness. Its light was not dazzling, yet it carried a certain weight.
That was confidence. That was determination.
It was the resolve of someone who had finally recognized his path and decided to follow it without hesitation.
Sophia watched Leo's back. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, she simply nodded firmly.
"I understand, Master."
Her voice was steady. Though worry lingered in her eyes, trust outweighed it.
"I won't make you worry about me. You... go all out."
Leo glanced back and smiled at Sophia.
It was faint, but genuine.
Before you continue