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The audience's hearts clenched at the sudden roar.
Right then, a massive foot stomped out of the blizzard, followed by a towering, white-furred figure. It was a man—over four meters tall and looking every bit like a snow monster.
The snow monster spotted the two-headed girl in the swirling snow and rubbed his eyes. A ripple of laughter cut through the tension, but most people were still terrified for the girl.
He didn't hesitate. His huge, shaggy hand shot out and grabbed her. The girl's tiny waist looked ready to snap in that grip. Gasps echoed through the theater.
The next second the snow monster lifted her toward his mouth.
A fishing line whipped out of nowhere, wrapping tight around his arm. A sharp yank made him grunt in pain and drop the girl. One head stayed calm while the other screamed as she hit the snow.
A woman in a mountaineering jacket stepped out of the storm, fishing rod in hand. The line went taut again as the snow monster grabbed it, trying to drag her in.
The audience held its breath—then the line snapped with a loud crack. The snow monster stumbled forward and crashed down.
His massive body kicked up a cloud of snow and ice, but the two-headed girl was already gone. A full centaur sub-human had appeared on stage and scooped her out from under the falling bulk with impossible grace.
One of the girl's heads had a glowing pink heart floating above it. The other looked thoroughly annoyed, maybe even a little disgusted.
Ronin's eyes locked on the fishing-rod woman and the centaur. With Gyo active, he was certain both were Nen users. The woman looked completely ordinary, but the centaur's lower half felt entirely conjured—dense, structured aura with no awkward gaps or unnatural bulges.
"Interesting," Ronin thought. He'd never seen someone use Conjuration to build missing body parts before.
The play kept going. Even the tense scenes had laugh-out-loud moments. One deformed performer after another took the stage, each with their own flair, perfectly woven into the story.
The only completely normal-looking performer was the fishing-rod woman—Abachi. Once she found the right line, her rod became the star of the show. She hooked the snow monster's lost pocket-sized friend, pulled the two-headed girl's real thoughts out into the open, even fished out people's prejudice and hostility toward the deformed.
The whole troupe had polished every beat. No one found the legendary fishing rod ridiculous. They were just moved by how real it all felt.
It was a fantastic performance. Even Ronin forgot the two were Nen users and got completely sucked in.
"I'm a freak-show fan for life," Neon said with a soft smile, though tears still shimmered at the corners of her eyes.
"Let's hope the troupe survives first," Shizuku replied flatly, completely unmoved.
Neon scratched her head helplessly.
The lights shifted. As Abachi used her rod to hook a brand-new headless body for the two-headed girl, the play reached its finale.
When the two heads actually separated and each claimed its own body, Ronin stared in disbelief. How the hell had they done that?
The entire audience gasped, jumped to their feet, and exploded into thunderous applause.
Performers filed out for their bows. Lights came up. The clown returned. Staff began herding people toward the exits.
Ronin was still stunned. Even he hadn't seen through the final trick. Was Abachi's rod really that broken, or had the two-headed girl been a Nen user the whole time—her disguise so perfect even he missed it?
He kind of wanted to meet her. But figuring everything out would ruin the magic. Leaving the mystery intact felt better.
The crowd stood to leave. Ronin knew Ryan would move soon, but this wasn't the moment to strike.
Before walking out, he slipped a kunai under his seat. A crystal ball appeared in his hand—he'd already memorized Abachi's and the centaur's auras during the show. Once outside, he could use the Far Eye Technique to keep watch.
If anything went wrong, the kunai would be his Flying Thunder God coordinate. As long as the cleaners didn't sweep under the seats, no one would find it.
He glanced back at the stage. Several performers had reappeared, eyes flicking toward the VIP box with hope and nerves.
They had no idea Ryan Grasse was about to turn their final show into a slaughter.