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The Grasse Clan's reputation had always been spotless.
Even back when the Moritonio Troupe suddenly disbanded after a performance and their leader vanished without a trace, no one had ever pointed fingers at the Grasse family.
Of course, they really hadn't been involved.
The one who killed Moritonio was Hisoka.
And Moritonio himself hadn't been some harmless circus boss—he was a serial killer.
After seeing the makeup on Abachi's face, Ronin finally placed the story. It was from a fan comic drawn by that Tokyo gourmet author, Ishida Sui—a Hisoka side story that even Togashi-sensei had recommended. The plot followed Hisoka learning Nen after the circus picked him up. Moritonio had been the one who taught him, and Abachi was his senior.
In the end, Hisoka uncovered Moritonio's true nature, kept it to himself, and settled things with a brutal, private fight. He killed the man with Bungee Gum and walked away from the circus forever.
Ronin hadn't expected the world to be this small.
He'd never run into a young Hisoka here, but he'd stumbled straight into one of Hisoka's old acquaintances instead.
He wasn't especially curious about Abachi's past, but the ability she wielded? That had his full attention.
The fishing rod in her hands made him think of Gon—the spiky-haired kid with the same weapon. He wondered if that was part of what had drawn Hisoka to Gon in the first place.
Abachi's power was clearly built around her fishing rod, and the earlier performance had shown she'd layered spatial properties into it. That was one of the stronger development paths for Emission users. Nobunaga sat at the top tier, Leorio was just getting started, and the pirates in Greed Island had their own take. Pure Emission effects—Leiza's aura volleyball, Franklin's machine guns, Geno's dragon techniques, even the Ant King's mountain-shattering blast—were another route. Spatial tricks simply gave Emission more utility than raw destruction ever could. At least, that was how Ronin saw it.
Once they stepped outside the theater, the crystal ball already reflected the scene inside.
After the last audience member left, security sealed every door. Armed personnel began appearing throughout the building one by one.
The performers gathered on stage went from hopeful waiting to visible panic and confusion the second the armed men entered. Ronin and the others saw every reaction clearly through the crystal ball.
"Lord Ryan, what is the meaning of this?" The centaur stepped forward first.
He was also the freak-show troupe's leader—Norman.
"Nothing much," Ryan drawled as he rose lazily from his chair. His greedy gaze swept over everyone on stage except Abachi. "I just want to borrow a few things. I'm sure you won't refuse to do me this small favor."
"Borrow what?" Norman already felt the malice in Ryan's eyes and knew asking wouldn't help. Right now they were the fish on the cutting board—there was no choice left.
"Just a few things you have that others don't. Like your lower half, one of her heads, or that white fur of his——"
Ryan pointed them out one by one, naming the unique features of each performer.
Losing those parts might not kill them, but it would strip away everything they relied on to survive.
What surprised Ryan was how calmly they reacted. The fear was gone. In its place was numb resignation, like they'd lived through this exact scenario countless times before.
"I'm sorry, but I can't agree to your request." Norman kept his polite tone, though his aura had quietly shifted from Ten to Ren. The change spoke louder than words.
Ryan smiled and wagged a finger, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "No need for that. I was only being polite."
He waved a hand. "Don't ruin my precious collection. Try to keep them alive."
As a high-ranking member of the Grasse clan with real power, Ryan had no reason to lift a finger himself. His subordinates would handle everything.
The moment his words fell, Abachi—the one he'd dismissed as completely insignificant—moved first.
Her fishing rod snapped forward toward Ryan's direction. The line whistled through the air at blinding speed, the hook streaking straight for him.
But an iron-tower of a man stepped in first, reaching out to snatch the hook.
Right before the hook met his palm, it vanished in a flash!
The security guard whipped his head around—just in time to see the hook reappear right in front of Ryan and slam into his body.
Flesh tore open as the hook buried itself in Ryan's arm. Abachi yanked hard. Ryan screamed, his arm bone catching on the hook as the line dragged him stumbling forward toward her position.
Watching through the crystal ball, Ronin didn't rush in.
Something felt off.
Ryan had already seen Abachi's ability during the performance. So how had he and his guards fallen for it so easily?
Most people sharing Ronin's suspicion figured it out in the next second.
Abachi was one of them.
Ryan was screaming loud enough, but the torn skin on his arm showed zero blood.
That wasn't Ryan.
It was a dummy!
Abachi realized it instantly—but too late.
The dummy's hand shot out and grabbed her fishing line.
"Got you."
A flat, mechanical voice came from the dummy's mouth. Nen began spreading along the line, racing toward Abachi at terrifying speed.
Abachi's heart lurched. Before she could decide what to do, the security guard who had tried to grab her line earlier vanished from his spot.
Bad. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of scissors.
She had to cut the line first!
She didn't even spare a glance for the attacker rushing her.
Because at the exact moment he appeared in front of her, a pair of powerful horse hooves came flying backward straight into his chest!