Several years passed in a flash.
Feitan watched the captive wailing in his hands, gave a vicious grin, and slowly tortured every last thing he wanted to know out of him.
Then he admired the man's dying state with satisfaction.
Finally, as though granting him a favor, he ended the man's life.
By then, he only very rarely remembered the weak boy he had once been.
And with those memories came thoughts of the woman who had fled and disappeared.
He had been through a great deal over the years, including many moments even more dangerous than those back then. He had learned a Nen Ability and begun to enjoy the feeling of facing death at any moment.
It was like dancing on a tightrope, liable to die without so much as a grave at any moment.
Yet he felt not the slightest fear!
Even his Nen Ability was a self-destructive ultimate move that converted the damage others inflicted on him into energy, then repaid it tenfold or a hundredfold.
And because of one particular experience, his height had remained forever frozen at what it had been in his youth.
Of course!
A powerful Nen user had no reason to care about his height.
But that did not stop it from becoming a taboo subject for him. Anyone who dared mock him for it would die the most agonizing death at his hands.
During that time, Chrollo returned to Meteor City.
Under the leadership of that former crybaby, they founded the Phantom Troupe, then fought violence with violence, successfully turning themselves into a globally infamous band of thieves who stopped at nothing.
Feitan was delighted!
He had never been a good kid to begin with.
Someone who had copied biker gangs and robbed people as a child was hardly going