Lip Reading

The church, library.

A deathly silence fell over the room.

"Sorry, I can't do that."

Franklin spread his arms, Nen Aura surging around him. His expression was resolute:

"No matter what Sheila did wrong, I don't want you to hurt her."

"That's not how companions should treat each other!"

Carl swallowed. How had she never noticed that Franklin felt so strongly about Sheila?

"Even though Sheila caused Old Will's death?"

"Sheila wasn't the one who did it. It was..."

Just as Franklin was about to say more, his gaze fell on Sarasa at the edge of the crowd.

After hesitating for a few seconds, he silently swallowed his words.

He was protecting Sheila out of care for a companion, but Sarasa was his companion too. The two were equals.

He couldn't hurt one for the other's sake!

In the room, the Phantom Troupe surrounded Sheila, and a suffocating pressure gradually built.

"Kill her."

Chrollo wiped the tears from his face, his voice hoarse.

In an instant, Carl stepped forward and put her waist and abdomen into the movement, closing the distance to Franklin in a flash. The moment his pupils contracted, she slammed a fist into his face.

Bang!

It all happened as fast as a thunderclap. Only when Franklin crashed into the wall did the others react, rushing forward together to pin him down as he struggled.

Sheila's impatient expression froze on her face, and she stood there in a daze.

She hadn't expected Chrollo to want to kill her!

Weren't they companions who had grown up together?

How could...

"They'll kill you! Run!"

Franklin's shout came with a spray of bloody spittle.

As he spoke, Franklin's less-than-sturdy body struggled nonstop, doing everything he could to break free of Uvogin and the others holding him down.

His roar echoed through the room. Sheila abruptly came to her senses and scrambled toward the door.

Carl was just about to act when Chrollo suddenly reached out and grabbed her shoulder, his voice low:

"I'll do it."

With that, he followed close behind Sheila, driving her toward the place where Old Will was buried.

A few seconds later, their figures, one pursuing and one fleeing, vanished down the corridor.

Carl stared at Chrollo's resolute departing figure, standing where she was as the surging Nen Aura around her returned to a state of "Ten."

Before she could turn around, a figure suddenly rushed out of the room.

"Sister Paku..."

Sarasa, whom Lianke had pulled into her arms, cried out in alarm.

"Let go! Let go of me!!!"

Franklin roared as a torrent of Nen Aura erupted from his body. Clearly, he was preparing to force his way free.

"Franklin!"

Wood chips and droplets of blood flew through the air as Carl's heavy fist landed with a dull bang beside Franklin's ear.

The dusty oak board cracked in a spiderweb pattern. Splinters grazed the boy's swollen cheekbone, carving slender trails of blood across his sallow skin.

"Do you remember what I told you back then?"

Carl bent down, pressing one knee against his trembling shoulder blade:

"You don't know anything, so you have no right to be a good person!"

A beast like Sheila was beyond saving, but Franklin could still be saved!

She didn't want the Phantom Troupe to lose a member for nothing because of a beast!

Franklin raised his head in a daze, Carl's distorted face reflected in his unfocused eyes. Her normally calm face was now covered in bulging veins, like a furious dragon whose reverse scale had been touched.

The boy's mouth opened and closed silently, and a pale sentence passed through his movements straight into Franklin's heart.

"Now, can you understand?"

Carl pushed aside the hands of the other Phantom Troupe members and hauled Franklin to his feet. His forehead was covered in white dust, and the left side of his face was badly swollen.

Several members of the Phantom Troupe watched tensely, ready to pounce at any moment!

But to the surprise of Nobunaga and the others, Franklin stopped shouting and struggling. He simply stood frozen in a daze.

"Ah!!!"

A piercing scream came from outside the room.

Franklin's ears twitched, but even though he clenched his fists until his knuckles turned pale, he never took so much as another step outside.

After only a moment, the scream died away.

In its place came the sound of heartbroken sobbing.

"Can I... go out and take a look?"

Franklin panted heavily, his swollen cheek trembling slightly.

Carl glanced at Sarasa in Lianke's arms and slowly nodded. "Sarasa, don't go. Anyone else who wants to go outside, follow me."

Things that were too burdensome shouldn't be left for a child to bear.

Heavy footsteps slowly sounded in the corridor.

After leaving the building, everyone walked silently toward the fence. Old Will had been buried to the left of the church entrance.

The closer they got, the louder the heartbroken sobbing became.

They rounded the corner and reached Old Will's grave.

Chrollo's slender figure stood perfectly straight, and at his feet lay a headless corpse.

The hem of his priest's robe was soaked in the pool of blood, and the sunlight stretched his shadow into a long, twisted outline.

The girl's head had been placed directly in front of the gravestone, its face hideously contorted.

Blood had soaked the parched earth dark red, and the smell of rust and salt hung in the air.

A long trail of blood connected the corpse to the head.

It wasn't hard to see that Chrollo had cut off Sheila's head in front of the gravestone, then dragged her corpse aside with his bare hands.

Beside the gravestone, Paku sat slumped on the ground, large tears streaming from her eyes.

"..."

Looking at the bloody scene before her, Carl didn't know what to say for a moment.

Disgusted?

It wasn't her first time seeing a dead person. She had long since grown used to such surroundings.

Satisfied?

Looking at the expressionless Chrollo before her, she really couldn't feel happy either.

There were many things the other members of the Phantom Troupe didn't know, but Carl did...

"Go back and pack your things." The boy's voice was indifferent.

After one last glance at the head in front of the gravestone, Chrollo slowly turned and walked toward the fence outside the church.

The bloodstained hem dragged along the ground, leaving a bloody trail.

Franklin stood rigidly five paces away, his swollen cheek mottled blue and purple.

Looking at Sheila's head in front of the gravestone, he felt an inexplicable sadness spread through his heart.

A strong wind carrying the smell of blood swept past his vacant eyes, finally disappearing into the boundless sky.

"Let's go."

Machi stepped forward and helped Paku up by the shoulders, then half dragged her slowly back toward the church.

Between companions, comforting and keeping each other company could ease some of the sadness, at least...

At least, that was what she thought.

Seeing this, the remaining members of the Phantom Troupe silently followed the two of them.

"Franklin, if I were you, I'd go check Chrollo's house now."

Still standing there, Carl glanced at Franklin, who was unwilling to leave, and sighed.

With that, she immediately turned and left.