The Black Whale, bottom-level cargo hold.
Cold seawater had already risen past their knees.
Chrollo.
Yes, that Chrollo-the leader of the Phantom Troupe, the man whose name alone made Mafia members around the world tremble.
He stood there holding the fluorescent-green Security Uniform, feeling his dignity shatter along with his worldview.
The uniform's fabric was absolute garbage.
The moment he touched it, he felt that cheap synthetic texture. It was scratchy, too, and reeked of mildew from years in a warehouse.
Several crooked words were printed across it: VIP Studio Security.
Luo Ye leaned against the dented cabin wall, a ballpoint pen in hand, scribbling furiously in his ledger.
"What are you staring at?"
"This is custom-made by a major manufacturer."
"Seventy-nine a set. You think these are some bargain-bin knockoffs from Pinduoduo?"
"Your boss scraped this money together for the sake of your professional image!"
Chrollo's eye twitched violently.
"Luo Ye."
Chrollo's voice was cold enough to shed ice chips.
"Do you really think this ridiculous stunt can trap the Spider?"
Luo Ye looked up, his pitch-black eyes filled with the heartless cruelty of a capitalist who didn't consider his workers human.
"For realsies?"
"Looks like you still don't fully appreciate what a 'blessing' this job is, little buddy."
With a casual flick of Luo Ye's finger, a wave of black specialization Nen pressure instantly sealed off the entire space.
The Nen Chrollo had just begun gathering touched that black aura and melted away in a flash, like a mouse fleeing a cat.
This was absolute domination in terms of power, a crushing blow delivered at the level of the rules themselves.
"Put it on."
Luo Ye's voice was almost airy.
"Or I'll smash that rack of ribs of yours and stuff you into it."
In the corner, Hisoka