The screen of Liam's phone cast a pale glow over his face in the dim cabin of the airship. He scrolled through the message Silva had sent him, digesting the briefing. Vijarath was located in the Yorbian Continent, sitting just east of the United States of Saherta. It was a small, independent city-state carved right out of the desert, spanning a mere three hundred square kilometers. Despite its size, its entire economy thrived on tourism, luxury shopping, and a sprawling vacation industry built around high-stakes gambling. The resident population hovered at around two and a half million, but it pulled in fifty million tourists every single year.
The next text block detailed their target event. The charity exhibition, organized by former Secretary of State Clary, was scheduled to run from seven in the morning on July 9th straight through to ten at night on July 14th. Ticket pre-orders would open exactly at midnight on July 3rd, complete with an online purchase link.
Liam booked his ticket within minutes of reading the message and directed their travel to the exact coordinates provided.
Now, high above the clouds, the steady hum of the airship engines vibrated through the floorboards. Liam and Shizuku were sitting together, swiping through tablets to gather basic geographical data on the city, when Liam finally looked up and broke the silence.
"I have to ask. Why are you even following me?"
Menchi, who had been lounging across the aisle doing absolutely nothing, looked mildly offended. "Am I not a member of our organization? If something big is happening, obviously we should stick together."
Liam raised an eyebrow, genuinely perplexed. "Didn't you completely reject my invitation?"
Menchi waved a hand dismissively, her eyes wide with feigned surprise. "How is that completely rejecting you? I just told you to invite me again in ten months. And look, there are only six months left. Once you invite me again, I will say yes. That basically makes me half a member right now." She offered a wide, entirely unbothered smile.
Shizuku tapped her chin, her dark eyes looking past Menchi. After a moment, she spoke up in her usual flat tone. "Does Menchi want you to ask her why you have to wait a few more months to invite her again?"
"What good could possibly come from a smile that cheap?" Liam muttered, curling his lip. "I absolutely refuse to ask. I will let the suspense choke her to death."
"I do not have anything to hold back. I am perfectly calm," Menchi countered, though her posture stiffened slightly. She turned away, resting her elbows on the window ledge to stare out at the rolling dunes of the desert below. "Get your bags ready. We are almost clear to land."
Out the porthole window, the modern city rose from the barren sands like a shimmering mirage of glass and steel. The airship banked smoothly, descending toward a suburban airport situated right on the edge of the concrete jungle.
The desert heat hit them the moment they stepped out of the terminal, thick and dry. They took a transport deep into the city, eventually pulling up in front of a completely unremarkable building.
"I really did not expect elite assassins to stay in a hotel like this," Menchi muttered as she trailed behind Liam through the automatic doors. The lobby was clean but overwhelmingly average, smelling faintly of cheap floral air freshener.
"This kind of hotel?" Shizuku asked, tilting her head.
"Well, look at it. It is entirely mediocre," Menchi whispered, leaning in close. "Aren't the Zoldycks the top assassin family in the world? I thought they either slept out in the harsh wilderness, coming and going without a trace, or stayed in some hyper-exclusive underground hotel designed specifically for killers. Secret passages, that sort of thing."
Shizuku stepped into the waiting elevator. "Menchi. I think you watch way too many movies."
"You are just as hurtful as you used to be," Menchi grumbled, stepping in after her. Shizuku merely looked confused, firmly believing she was just stating a fact.
Liam pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, the metal panel cool under his finger. "Did I ever actually say we were coming here to meet the Zoldyck? He is a professional assassin. I have no idea where he is right now, and I certainly do not know how to track him. But do not worry. He knows we are here. He will come to us."
The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to a quiet, carpeted hallway.
"Then who exactly are you looking for here?" Menchi asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "You walked right past the front desk without booking a room."
"Someone already opened one for us."
Liam stopped in front of room 1518 and pressed the doorbell. A soft chime echoed inside. A few seconds later, the lock clicked, and the heavy wooden door swung inward, revealing the face of the person waiting inside.
Menchi gasped, taking a stumbling step backward. She immediately lowered her voice to a frantic whisper. "President Netero?" She stared at Liam. "I thought you said he went to Meteor City!"
Standing in the doorway was a short old man in traditional garb, complete with a bald head, a distinct topknot braid, and an upturned beard. It was a perfect image of Isaac Netero. Netero glanced at Menchi but did not say a single word. He simply gave a curt nod, pulled the door wider, and stepped aside to let them enter.
As Netero closed the door behind them, Shizuku stood perfectly still in the center of the room. Her dark eyes were entirely focused on the old man, observing every micro-movement.
"Can you see the flaw?" Netero asked. His voice was steady, but the tone felt slightly off.
"There seems to be a tiny bit of inconsistency," Shizuku noted, not blinking.
"Really?" Netero looked down at his own hands, flexing his fingers.
"Using Gyo only reveals a very faint hint of disharmony. Your level of training is actually quite good," Liam said, casually walking around the suite to inspect the furnishings. "I would rank this at Excellent, maybe even touching Superb."
"Netero" looked up, genuinely bewildered. "Training level? Excellent? Superb? What are you talking about?"
Menchi could not take the suspense anymore. She pointed a trembling finger at the old man. "Who are you really? Hey. Liam. Shizuku. Who is this guy?"
Netero turned his calm gaze toward her.
Liam gestured toward the old man. "Let me introduce you. D-Ring. Reserve member." He pointed directly at Netero. "Code name Suzaku. Real name, Kurapika."
Instantly, the heavy aura surrounding "Netero" shifted. The old man's form dissolved, transforming back into a handsome teenager with short blond hair, wearing a sharp black suit. Kurapika exhaled smoothly, reaching down to pull off the tiger-skin skirt wrapped around his waist.
As the pelt hit the floor, it twisted and expanded, shifting into the shape of a large, pale tiger. Lumos. The beast padded softly over to Liam and Shizuku, bowing its heavy head affectionately.
Menchi watched the transformation with wide eyes, her brain quickly piecing the puzzle together. Liam had actually managed to make a magical beast develop Nen abilities. It made total sense why he was the boss of the Akatsuki Organization.
Recovering her composure, Menchi stepped forward and offered her hand. "Menchi. Professional Hunter. I specialize as a Gourmet Hunter."
Kurapika took her hand, his grip firm. "Kurapika. Why are you a reserve member?"
"Do not ask her that," Liam quickly interrupted, stepping between them. "Just let her suffocate from keeping it a secret."
Menchi clicked her tongue and snatched her hand back. "As if I would even give you an answer if you begged."
Shizuku leaned forward, adjusting her glasses. "Why did you choose to become Netero?"
"There is no profound reason," Kurapika explained, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. "I just wanted to practice transforming into someone I have never met in person. I happened to find some video footage of the Hunter Association's President on the internet, so I used that as my reference." He turned his attention back to Liam.
"As for what I meant by training levels, we have an entire rating system for that. Shizuku, if you would." Liam snapped his fingers.
Shizuku extended her hand, materializing Blinky. The vacuum cleaner with the bulging eyes appeared with a soft hum. She reached into its mouth and pulled out a thick notebook.
"This book contains all the practice experience and insights from our seniors. Do not ever say your boss forgets about you. Consider this your first employee benefit for joining the Ten," Liam said with a soft sigh. He took the notebook from Shizuku and handed it to Kurapika. Then, he patted the back of Menchi's hand with deep, exaggerated sincerity, looking exactly like a man desperately begging for help.
Kurapika flipped open the cover. His eyes widened as he scanned the first page. It was an incredibly profound breakdown of Nen mechanics. Even a cursory glance at a few paragraphs made him feel as though his understanding of aura was rapidly expanding.
"Do not be in such a hurry to read it right now. You have plenty of time," Liam said, finding a comfortable sofa and sinking into it. "Right now, we are just waiting to hear from the Zoldyck. I do not know if he has pinpointed the specific location of the Phantom Troupe yet."
A sudden, echoing voice filled the room, startling everyone.
Liam shot to his feet, scanning the living room. There was no one new in sight. The voice had sounded incredibly strange, as if it were bouncing off every wall at once, making it impossible to determine the source.
Moving on instinct, Liam rushed to the entryway. Through the narrow hall, he saw a tall, heavily muscled man with wild white hair pulling the front door shut with utter smoothness. The door had been securely locked just moments ago.
Kurapika, who had followed right behind Liam, stopped dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat.
Menchi swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs. She could not track the sound of his voice, and he bypassed a locked door without leaving a single scratch. This is the true skill of a top-tier assassin, she thought to herself.
The man in the doorway was, naturally, Silva Zoldyck.
Liam relaxed his stance slightly. "So they are indeed in this city?"
Kurapika forced himself to calm down, stepping forward. "The charity exhibition is in eight days. That is what they came for, correct?"
Silva ignored the questions for a moment. He strode fully into the room, his heavy footsteps entirely silent on the carpet. He folded his massive arms across his chest, his emotionless, predatory eyes sweeping over the group.
"All members of the Phantom Troupe, including their leader, are here." Silva stated, his voice a low rumble. "They are currently scattered across this city of millions." He locked his lion-like gaze onto Kurapika. "However, during the six-day charity exhibition that begins in eight days, they will most likely make their move. My suggestion is this: before that event begins, no matter how much you cannot bear the waiting, you must focus solely on investigation. You need to gather intelligence from the shadows, keeping yourselves completely hidden."
Kurapika's hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He let out a slow, shaky exhale. "If you do not know their exact locations, how can you be absolutely certain that all thirteen of them are currently in the city?"
Silva looked down at him. "No comment."
Liam leaned against the wall. "You have not made a move yet. Is it because you are not sure where your specific target is? Or is it because you do not even know if the person you were hired to kill is actually here?"
Before Silva turned to leave, he cast a sideways glance at Liam. "Just remember our deal."
He gave a single nod, turned, and walked out. Liam and the others did not hear the lock click, the hinges squeak, or the door shut. He simply vanished, leaving the heavy door completely intact and secured behind him.
Liam walked over to Kurapika, resting a grounding hand on the teenager's shoulder. "It is going to be a problem if you lose control of your emotions the second you get anywhere near a Spider."
Kurapika slowly raised his head. He looked past Liam, staring at Lumos, who was peacefully lying on the hotel carpet. "I think I have an idea on how to find those Spiders."
Menchi watched Kurapika from the side, a chill running down her spine. At some point during the conversation, the boy's eyes had turned a brilliant, striking scarlet. It looked as though two distinct fires were burning directly in his pupils. So that is what it is, she realized. The Kurta clan. She had heard the stories. It turns out there really are survivors from the clan the Phantom Troupe massacred.
"I have to ask. Where exactly did our little Suzaku fly off to?"
The afternoon sun beat down on the Fountain Square. Tourists spilling out from the nearby casinos gathered around the water, snapping pictures and laughing. Menchi sat on the stone rim of the fountain, watching Liam and Shizuku in the center of the plaza. Shizuku was standing completely still with her arms spread wide like a scarecrow, entirely covered in white pigeons that tourists had been feeding. Liam was crouching a few feet away, happily pressing the shutter button on a camera.
Liam snapped a close-up of a pigeon pecking at a breadcrumb. He lowered the camera, speaking casually over his shoulder. "Why are you so concerned about him all of a sudden? Let me remind you, he is still very young."
"You are not exactly old yourself," Menchi said, sounding genuinely baffled. "I have not seen you for a little over a year, but you are growing up so incredibly fast. Is this just how boys experience puberty?"
She propped her chin in her hands, watching Liam and Shizuku huddle together to check the digital screen of the camera, the white birds still clinging to their clothes. "I really cannot wrap my head around this," she muttered to herself. "Why on earth do I need to act as a chaperone for you two?"
Suddenly, there was a frantic flapping of wings. The massive flock of white pigeons took to the sky in a chaotic cloud of feathers.
"What are you grumbling about over there?" Liam called out, weighing the heavy camera in his hand. "Let's go find some delicious food. I am treating."
"It is not a question of who is paying," Menchi sighed, pushing herself off the stone ledge to follow them. "The real question is whether the food will actually be delicious."
Despite her complaints, she followed the two of them out of the square, eventually arriving at a high-end hotel restaurant that boasted excellent reviews.
Shizuku and Menchi walked ahead, being led by a waiter to a private dining room. Liam lingered behind, wandering slowly through the lavishly decorated main hall, admiring the architecture. When he turned his head to look at the adjacent table, he stopped. Sitting casually in one of the plush chairs, sporting his usual messy white hair, was Silva Zoldyck.
"Could you please stop being so elusive?" Liam said, keeping his voice light as he approached the table. "It is genuinely bad for my heart."
"I honestly cannot imagine why I have to act together with you of all people," a different voice grumbled miles away.
Under the shade of a large parasol set up on a distant sidewalk, a man with heavy stubble and an inherently sorrowful expression slouched in his metal chair. With his topknot hairstyle and loose clothes, he looked exactly like a wandering samurai who had gotten lost in a modern city.
The woman sitting across from him had messy pink hair and wore a pair of massive toad-style sunglasses that obscured most of her delicate face. She slowly flipped a page of her fashion magazine, not bothering to look up. "Do you actually think I am willing to sit here with you?"
"That meathead Uvogin said he hates the city," Nobunaga muttered, leaning back in his chair until the front legs lifted off the pavement. "He said he would not be able to stop himself from causing massive damage, so he decided to arrive late. I wonder if he has even arrived yet."
He let his gaze drift lazily across the chaotic flow of pedestrians. Suddenly, a massive, incredibly familiar figure flashed through the crowd.
"Uvogin?" Nobunaga gasped.
He slammed the front legs of his chair down and sat completely upright, his eyes widening. Sure enough, towering over the average citizens was the unmistakably broad and imposing back of Uvogin. A grin broke out over Nobunaga's face. He quickly shoved his chair back and jogged into the thick crowd, waving his hand happily.
"Hey! Uvogin! Where are you going?"
A slender hand shot out from behind him, wrapping firmly around his wrist and yanking him backward with surprising force.
Nobunaga stumbled, looking back in annoyance. "Machi. What are you doing?" he demanded, glaring at the pink-haired woman. "Let go, or do not think I will not cut you."
"Do not chase after him," Machi commanded, her face an unreadable mask. Despite the sunglasses, her sharp eyes remained locked onto the towering figure as it slowly retreated deeper into the sea of people. "I always feel something is not quite right."
Back in the restaurant, Liam shook his empty wine glass, the faint clinking sound breaking his focus. He took a pretend sip and offered a wide grin to Silva.
"No need to help. Do not look at us like this. At least we have a few tricks up our sleeves. I can conduct some investigation perfectly quietly."
"Make no mistake. You are just one person," Silva's voice echoed softly. "Even if your intelligence-gathering capabilities are incredibly good, can you really keep an eye on all Spiders all by yourself?"
"I only have one goal."
"Ha," Liam said with a soft chuckle. "Then have you found it?"
When he turned to look directly at the chair, Silva was completely gone.
Liam narrowed his eyes, focusing his aura to observe the space carefully. Sitting in the chair was nothing more than a faint, residual construct of aura. The invisible Nen clone wavered slightly before disappearing completely, dissolving into the air without a single sound.
Liam stood there in silence for a moment, utterly speechless.
"You two really do have incredibly similar abilities," Liam muttered to the empty air. He shook his head in amusement, set the wine glass back onto the table, and turned to walk toward the private dining room.
The scene playing out in his mind's eye continued to reflect the crowded street over ten kilometers away.
At one end of the distant street, he watched Nobunaga arguing heatedly with the pink-haired woman who had grabbed his wrist, glancing back toward the crowd in sheer confusion.
At the opposite end of the street, the massive, expressionless figure of "Uvogin" continued to walk away at a steady pace.
And perched high above the intersection, completely unnoticed on top of a traffic light, a small bird made of solid rock continuously swiveled its head. Its unblinking eyes tracked the samurai, the woman, and the fake giant, taking in every single detail over there, and transmitting it right back here.