Want to read ahead? Join my Patreon for just $7 to get early access to all upcoming chapters!
> Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations
─────
Chapter 115: Sheila
The wild card in this entire equation was Hisoka.
Kurapika meticulously reviewed the board he had set up, immediately isolating the core issue. Logically, after Hisoka handed Shizuku over to Ronin, the magician should have called to discuss their plans regarding Chrollo. Yet, Hisoka hadn't made a single attempt to contact them. Instead, he seemed completely consumed by the anticipation of the October 1st showdown. It was glaringly obvious—the psychopath had developed a genuine, obsessive interest in fighting Ronin.
That severely complicated Kurapika's plan to weaponize the upcoming match. It meant the odds of simultaneously transforming their Meteor City base into a lethal trap were drastically low. Chrollo was brilliant enough to read the board just as clearly. Once October 1st rolled around, if Chrollo wanted to pull the 'Ryan' thorn from his side, he would undoubtedly launch a series of probing attacks against the villa. Without Ronin physically holding the line, weathering those assaults would be a massive, potentially fatal problem.
The optimal strategy was to use Ryan as a stepping stone to assassinate and replace another elder, embedding themselves even deeper into the city's hierarchy before abandoning the current guise. Before leaving Meteor City, however, Kurapika had one final destination: the old church.
According to Ronin's intel, it was the exact birthplace of the Phantom Troupe. Kurapika wasn't going there to kill anyone; he simply wanted to take a leisurely stroll through the sanctuary. The mere act of defiling that sacred space with his presence would be enough to drive Chrollo completely mad. That is, unless the man truly felt no emotional attachment to the church of his youth. But considering his furious desire to avenge Uvogin and his relentless obsession with uncovering the truth behind Sarasa's death, Chrollo was clearly far from emotionless.
Ronin accompanied Kurapika to the holy site. However, the moment they arrived, Kurapika froze dead in his tracks right at the entrance. Because standing within the ruined courtyard of the church was a hauntingly familiar figure.
She was a tall, slender young woman wearing a pristine white dress, her hair pinned back with a distinct heart-shaped clip. She sat peacefully in the dilapidated courtyard, an open book resting in her lap as a gaggle of filthy, emaciated children crowded around her. The children listened with rapt attention, their starved faces glowing with an innocent yearning for the outside world as she spun tales of grand adventure. The girl reciting the story possessed that same bright, starry-eyed longing.
Hearing the crunch of approaching footsteps, the girl glanced up toward the rusted iron gates in mild curiosity. Despite him having shed his traditional tribal garb, she recognized the young boy in a heartbeat.
It was Kurapika!
A blinding, joyous light immediately flooded her eyes.
"Kurapika!" she cried out, slamming the book shut. Leaping to her feet, she bypassed the children and sprinted eagerly toward him. True to her notoriously clumsy nature, barely three steps into her sprint, she spectacularly tripped over her own feet right on the flat pavement.
But before her face could smash into the ground, a metallic chain whipped out, wrapping tightly around her torso and arresting her fall mid-air.
"Why?"
Since the entire point of the visit was to deliberately provoke Chrollo, Kurapika hadn't bothered with a disguise. Now, his voice trembled with an indescribable, suppressed fury. Ronin glanced over and saw that Kurapika's eyes were already blazing a brilliant scarlet—a crimson hue so intense that his colored contacts couldn't fully mask it. It was undeniable proof of the volcanic emotional turmoil detonating within Kurapika's chest at the sight of her.
"Sheila, why are you here? Answer me!"
The girl's name was Sheila. She was the traveler who had miraculously stumbled near the hidden village of the Kurta Clan years ago. She was the one who had gifted Kurapika and Pairo the chronicle of hunter adventures—the very book that had cemented Kurapika's unshakable desire to leave the forest and see the outside world.
Kurapika had suspected her at times. After all, Sheila was the only outsider to have come anywhere near their secluded sanctuary in recent memory. But her airheaded, hopelessly directionless nature, coupled with her pure, untainted dream of becoming a professional Hunter, had always convinced Kurapika that this clumsy girl had nothing to do with the massacre of his people.
Yet, here she was. The person who should have been the furthest away from Meteor City was not only standing right inside its borders, but actively loitering in the very cradle where the Phantom Troupe was born. Judging by her casual demeanor, she was deeply familiar with the place.
Sheila looked back at him, utterly bewildered by his hostility.
"I... I don't know what you mean. I grew up here in Meteor City, so it's perfectly normal for me to be here! What about you, Kurapika? Didn't you come looking for me? Where's Pairo?" she asked, tilting her head in genuine confusion.
As for the thick metal chains currently constricting her, her famously oblivious nature seemed to completely disregard them as a threat.
Through the Sharingan, Ronin could see a faint, steady shroud of aura clinging to her body. It was [Ten]. Sheila was a Nen user. Was she so unfazed because she genuinely believed Kurapika would never hurt her, or was she so utterly confident in her own strength that she deliberately let his attack land? Ronin found himself incredibly intrigued by the enigmatic girl. He was curious to know if she truly had a hand in the Kurta Clan's annihilation.
"So, you know the members of the Phantom Troupe as well?" Kurapika interrogated, his voice chillingly cold.
Sheila's expression slowly morphed into one of serious concern. No matter how airheaded she was, even she realized the situation had taken a dangerously dark turn. "Yes, I know them."
"Did you sell out the Kurta Clan's location to them?" Kurapika demanded. As the question left his lips, Ronin noticed Kurapika's knuckles turning a stark, bloodless white from gripping the chain so tightly.
"What?" Sheila gasped, her voice thick with confusion and horror. "How could I? I don't even know how to find your village again! If I did, I would have gone back to share the good news with you and Pairo after passing the Hunter Exam this year."
As she defended herself, a terrifying realization seemed to finally click in her mind.
"Did Chrollo and the others go to your village? Kurapika... what happened?" Panic laced her tone, a dark, dreadful premonition taking root.
Watching her raw, unfiltered reaction, Ronin genuinely didn't think she was lying. But there were ways to extract information from a person without them ever realizing it. The image of Pakunoda immediately flashed in Ronin's mind. If Sheila was telling the truth, had she made physical contact with the memory-reading Specialist after returning from the forest? Outside of Sheila, Ronin honestly couldn't think of a single soul who could have exposed the secluded village. When you laid out the timeline, Sheila's departure and the Phantom Troupe's brutal assault aligned entirely too perfectly to be a mere coincidence.
Ronin noted that Kurapika's ring finger was lowered, the Dowsing Chain hanging perfectly still at his side. While Sheila spoke, the pendulum hadn't wavered a single millimeter, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that every word she spoke was the absolute truth.
That left only one plausible explanation.
Stepping forward, Ronin took the initiative to ask the million-dollar question. "After you returned to Meteor City... did you have any contact with Pakunoda? Specifically... did she ever make physical contact with you?
─────
Support this fanfict by leaving Positive Review, Comments, and Power Stones.
For Advance Chapters:
> Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations