Chrollo briefly closed his eyes.
His calm face gave no hint of what he felt, or whether the prospect of death frightened him.
Probably not!
A Luo couldn't help recalling the scene in the Yorknew City arc when Kurapika had bound him with the Judgment Pinkie Chain and taken him hostage in the back seat of a car.
Melody had been in the car too, a gentle girl who could discern a person's true feelings by listening to their heartbeat.
She had clutched her head in fear, saying that Chrollo's heartbeat was steady and calm, as though death accompanied him every moment of his life, and he reveled in it.
How could anyone be ready to die at any moment?
A Luo kept staring at Chrollo, whom she had just beaten up.
"If I killed you right now, you wouldn't really care, would you?"
For someone like Chrollo, beatings and slaughter seemed incapable of causing any distress or pain.
What could she possibly do to get revenge on this man?
To make him experience what she had before-the feeling of being belittled, humiliated, and hurt at someone else's whim.
A Luo's gaze shifted to Pakunoda and Machi.
They were founding members of the Phantom Troupe who had known him the longest.
Surely the lives of Machi and Pakunoda held a special place in Chrollo's eyes!
When Kurapika had killed Uvogin, hadn't Chrollo prepared a grand requiem for him, played out in death?
He had even seemed to cry over Uvogin while talking to Neon about human souls!
And when he conducted that requiem composed of death atop a tall building, Chrollo had closed his eyes and shed tears.
At that thought, A Luo brought Pakunoda and Machi straight before Chrollo.
"Chrollo, you don't care about your own life. But what