Crimson Endgame

The battlefield fell silent.

Only the wind remained, along with the occasional shriek of Breeders in the distance.

Benjamin stood before the pile of corpses, his golden armor stained with blood, his bearing solemn and composed.

As he looked at the four people drenched in blood, a barely perceptible trace of approval flashed through his eyes.

But it quickly vanished.

"You can't kill them all."

He got straight to the point, his tone as calm as if he were merely stating a fact.

"Even if you fight for another three hours, the outcome will be the same."

No one argued.

Because it was the truth.

After three hours of desperate battle, they had taken down over four hundred.

Nearly eight hundred remained.

And everyone's stamina had already run dry.

If they continued, the only path left was to collapse from exhaustion and die.

"What do you want to discuss?" Kurapika asked.

His voice was somewhat hoarse, yet still steady.

Benjamin smiled.

"I know what you want."

He raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

A personal guard behind him stepped forward, carrying a black metal case in both hands.

Click.

The lid sprang open.

Under the setting sun.

Twenty-four pairs of Crimson Eyes lay neatly arranged on velvet.

They were a pure, translucent red.

A piercing red.

Like twenty-four clusters of frozen flames.

Kurapika's breathing abruptly caught.

His fingers tightened uncontrollably.

His grip on the hilt creaked.

They were real.

Every single one.

That familiar, gemstone-like crimson that only appeared when his clansmen were enraged.

Twenty-four pairs.

Not one was missing.

Gon, Killua, and Leorio were stunned as well.

They knew Kurapika had always been searching for his clansmen's eyes.

But they had not known Benjamin was holding so many.

"Thirty-six pairs of Crimson Eyes from the Kurta Clan," Benjamin