Lin Yan's words echoed through the night. His voice was quiet, yet it pierced the Phantom Troupe members' hearts like an invisible blade.
The echoes of Pakunoda's screams still lingered in the air. She lay curled on the ground, blood flowing from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Nobunaga and Machi looked utterly grim. They had no idea what had happened. All they knew was that Pakunoda, their almost invincible intelligence expert, had not lasted even a second before the man in white.
Nobunaga tightened his grip on his sword hilt, veins bulging on the back of his hand. He wanted to charge forward and cut down this stranger who had appeared out of nowhere. But the sight of Pakunoda's suffering had doused his impulsive fury like a bucket of ice water.
"Who the hell are you?" Nobunaga gritted his teeth, staring at Lin Yan's back. He felt an unprecedented pressure. It did not come from powerful Nen aura, but from something deeper-something that filled him with instinctive fear.
Lin Yan did not turn around. He simply stood there calmly, like a statue.
Watching the scene unfold, Kurapika felt waves of cold dread. He knew Lin Yan was strong, but he had never imagined he was this strong. The Phantom Troupe, a band of Class A wanted criminals, had been cowed by a single sentence. And he had clearly seen Pakunoda take only a few steps forward before collapsing. Lin Yan had not moved at all. What kind of ability was this?
He looked again at Uvogin, whom he had bound. The monster who had just slaughtered people at the auction was now strangely quiet. Though wrapped in chains, he stared fixedly at Lin Yan's back, his eyes holding not only anger but a trace of bewildered disbelief.
"This man