The Wasteland. 11:00 AM.
The wind howled across the barren plains, chilling the bone.
Kurapika, Dalzollene, Basho, Baise, Melody, and Squala stood in a somber circle.
Uvogin sat on his knees, tightly bound by Kurapika's chains. With both arms severed at the shoulders, the giant had no physical leverage to struggle.
Ryker stood in front of him, checking the time on his phone before casually opening the voice recorder app.
"It's time. Any last words, Uvogin?"
After a night of psychological torment, Uvogin's mind was in ruins. He never could have imagined a monster existed who could read memories without consent, let alone steal abilities. It gave him a terrifying premonition: When I die, my strength will become his. This kid will become the enemy of the entire world.
"You're going to hell!" Uvogin roared, 'staring' blindly at Ryker with bloody, empty sockets. "You're destined for hell! Even in death, I'll be waiting for you down there!"
"What a disappointing final statement," Ryker sighed, turning off the recording. "It's a pity your Danchou and your crew didn't care enough to see you off. But don't worry, I'll make sure they hear your parting words."
Ryker gave Kurapika a subtle nod.
Kurapika's heart was surprisingly calm. The day he had dreamed of—the first step on his road to revenge—was finally here.
"When you slaughtered my clan, I doubt you felt the fear of death," Kurapika said, his voice absolute zero. "I hope you feel it now."
He was still too merciful. Kurapika simply twitched his pinky finger.
Schwing.
The Judgment Chain pierced cleanly through Uvogin's heart.
An unprecedented wave of agony washed over the giant. Uvogin violently coughed up a lungful of blood, feeling his massive life force rapidly draining away.
So this... is what dying feels like.
But before the darkness could fully take him—
Zzzzt.
A microscopic arc of blue lightning shot from Ryker's finger, instantly frying Uvogin's brain.
CPU burned. Kill secured.
[DING! You killed Phantom Troupe Member: Uvogin.]
[DING! Random Plunder Initiated... Success!]
[Acquired: {Full Body Defense} (Gold), {Big Bang Impact} (Double Gold).]
[DING! {Lucky Star} (Gold) Activated! Forced Drop...]
[Acquired: {Enhancement Talent} (Double Gold).]
A symphony of notifications played in Ryker's mind.
A flood of energy and decades of memories crashed into his brain and seeped into his bones. In an instant, Ryker experienced Uvogin's entire life of grueling, masochistic training—enduring blistering heat and freezing cold, surviving countless deathmatches, and honing his physical arts to the absolute peak.
Not bad. But it's a pity, Uvogin. All your life's work just became my stepping stone.
Ryker felt his muscle fibers condense and his aura capacity explode. His physical foundation had ascended to a terrifying new realm.
[Trait: Full Body Defense (Gold)]
[Effect: Elevates base physical durability to an extreme level. Even without Ten or Ren, your bare skin is impervious to standard blades and bullets.]
[Trait: Big Bang Impact (Double Gold)]
[Effect: Uvogin's signature technique, forged through a lifetime of blood. Concentrates aura to create a devastating vibration/shockwave upon impact. The shockwave ignores standard metal armor, causing massive internal damage.]
[Trait: Enhancement Talent (Double Gold)]
[Effect: Your innate affinity for Enhancement Nen is practically peerless. One in fifty million.]
Ryker smiled. He had specifically saved his daily [Lucky Star] charge just for Uvogin, delaying the execution by a day to ensure he ripped the Double Gold talent from the giant's corpse.
A Double Gold talent put his innate potential on par with Gon, the child of destiny.
But what excited Ryker the most was [Big Bang Impact]. Ryker's combat style relied on overwhelming raw strength, but Uvogin's technique introduced vibration.
The reason Big Bang Impact created such massive craters was the shockwave. When this punch hit solid armor, the vibration bypassed the metal, directly pulverizing whatever was inside. It was the ultimate armor-piercing strike.
If I fought Uvogin again right now, Ryker mused, I could blow him to pieces in three punches.
Ryker was itching to test his new power, but he suppressed the urge.
Nearby, Dalzollene and the other bodyguards stared in awe as the multi-billion-Jenny, A-Class bounty target drew his last breath. Their reverence for Ryker deepened into religious fanaticism.
Kurapika's scarlet eyes slowly faded back to brown. He turned to Ryker and bowed deeply, a perfect ninety degrees.
"Brother Ryker... thank you."
All of his gratitude was conveyed in those simple words. Without Ryker, his path of revenge would have been a grueling, bloody suicide mission. Now, the first Spider was dead.
"Let's go, Kurapika," Ryker said, turning his back on the corpse. "Tomorrow, we continue the hunt."
He took a few steps, then noticed Dalzollene hovering nervously.
"C-Captain..." Dalzollene stammered. "U-Uvogin's head... there's an 8 billion Jenny bounty for it on the Mafia Blacklist!"
"Oh?" Ryker paused, a smirk crossing his face. "Didn't know the big guy was worth that much dead. Go ahead and cash it in. You guys split a 10% commission."
Ryker walked away, leaving the bodyguards frozen in shock.
Ten percent.
Ten percent of 8 billion was 800 million Jenny. Split among the six of them, that was over 130 million Jenny each! It was life-changing wealth, casually tossed to them just for being in Ryker's crew.
Follow the Captain, they all thought simultaneously. Follow him forever.
Nostrade Family Estate.
With the auction officially over, the bodyguard contracts were theoretically fulfilled.
"Boss, the bodyguards have been paid. Should we consider putting them on permanent retainer?" the head butler asked respectfully.
"Heh. They're just grunts," Light Nostrade scoffed, puffing on a thick cigar. "I heard the Ten Dons' Shadow Beasts were wiped out by the Troupe. Without their guard dogs, the Dons' seats are looking a bit shaky."
He grinned greedily. "Neon, my sweet! How is that prophecy coming along? I want to see exactly how long it will take for your papa to become one of the Ten Dons!"
Light Nostrade was in an ecstatic mood. He hadn't brought much merchandise to the auction—he only went because Neon wanted to shop. The vault heist barely affected his wallet. Now, with the Shadow Beasts dead, rival mafia families were already calling him, kissing up, suggesting he make a play for a Don's seat.
"But Boss," the butler warned, sweating slightly. "The Phantom Troupe is incredibly dangerous. If we don't hire more elite guards, and we cross paths with them..."
"Money is omnipotent," Light Nostrade laughed arrogantly. "The Spiders are strong, sure. But they are still human. They have desires. Money, power, women—I can give them anything they want. Contact the Troupe. Tell them the Nostrade Family is willing to sponsor them... as long as they become my personal dogs."
Light Nostrade believed he could buy the world.
"Heh... what a wonderful business plan~."
A smooth, theatrical voice drifted through the room.
Light Nostrade froze. He looked toward the voice.
Sitting on the windowsill of his heavily fortified mansion was a shadow.
"INTRUDER!"
Twelve elite bodyguards—men far stronger than Dalzollene, earning hundreds of millions a year—instantly drew their guns.
Fwip. Fwip. Fwip.
Before a single trigger could be pulled, all twelve men collapsed.
Embedded in their throats, foreheads, and hearts were razor-sharp, blood-red playing cards.
Lightning flashed outside the window, illuminating the intruder.
A clown-faced man, wearing a sadistic smile. Hisoka.
His right arm was a Nen construct, a prosthetic hiding beneath his sleeve. But his aura was sharper than ever. His deck of cards was entirely red now—a sick vow to himself to chop off the limbs of "Ulquiorra" (Ryker's clone) and exact his revenge.
"W-Who are you?!" Light Nostrade panicked, dropping his cigar as he scrambled backward. He reached for his golden revolver.
These twelve guards were the absolute best money could buy! And they died without even casting a shadow!
"D-Don't come any closer!" the butler screamed, pointing his gun at Hisoka. "Boss! Run!"
"B-But Neon..." Light Nostrade trembled. "W-Who sent you?! The Ten Dons?! What did they pay you?! I'll double it! Triple! Five times the amount!"
Hisoka just smiled, stepping off the windowsill.
"How much?! A billion?! Ten billion?! NO, FIFTY BILLION! I'LL GIVE YOU A HUNDRED BILLION!" Nostrade shrieked.
BANG!
The butler fired.
Hisoka didn't dodge. The bullet struck the space inches from his chest—and stopped. It was caught in an invisible, elastic film. It stretched backward, then violently rebounded, falling harmlessly to the floor.
Bungee Gum possesses the properties of both rubber and gum.
"My, my," Hisoka sighed. "Shooting at guests... how rude."
Hisoka walked past the butler.
A second later, the butler's arms fell off in a spray of blood. Then his chest split open. Within seconds, the man was diced into a mist of blood-red cherry blossoms. His severed head hit the floor, eyes wide open in terror.
Light Nostrade lost control of his bladder, a warm puddle spreading beneath him.
Another flash of lightning illuminated the room.
It highlighted Hisoka's exposed waist. And there, stark against his pale skin, was a crimson tattoo.
A Spider. With the number "4".
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