A/N: This is the sequel to A Series of Politically Inappropriate Happenings. This story will be a little different from the previous two (which were quite different from the first installment of The Series). It was inspired by two things: first, a desire to try a slightly different genre other than Humour (a more serious one, one might say) and second, the criticism that Kuroro's relationship with Midoya is a little too perfect. So, this story took a while to come out.

Truthfully, I considered not publishing it because the more serious genres of Angst/Tragedy etc are not quite familiar to me and I'm not sure how my dear readers will take to it. However, I decided to just go for it, and I hope I don't let you down.

Disclaimer:I do not own Hunter X Hunter and all the characters affiliated with the manga/anime. All OCs are mine and mine alone.


A Series of Very Criminal Activities

The room was large and furnished with heavy, cushioned sofa sets. Luxurious velvet drapes covered the walls and the massive windows that, when opened, gave the room a delightful airy feel. Expensive, well-known paintings were squeezed in between the drapes and the windows. Beautiful carvings and statues competed for space on the heavily carpeted floors. In the centre sat a large oak table with intricate carvings along the legs. Even a casual glance in the room would leave the impression of riches and luxuries beyond imagination.

To the mind of a creative and intelligent child, it was no more than a playground.

Drapes turned into hiding places. Sofas turned into forts. Statues and carvings formed mazes which had to be navigated with extreme care. Cushions were stepping stones that prevented hands and feet from touching the carpet, now pools of molten hot lava.

Giggling, the child crept behind the drapes and started to approach the oak table, where a tall man stood, oblivious back to her. In her mind, the attack pattern was clear. She would approach him from his blind spot, slowly on her hands and knees then before he knew what was happening, she would…

"Fuck!" the man shouted suddenly, interrupting the child's approach.

The child froze in place like a startled animal, becoming unnaturally still, nothing more than a pale shadow in the dark. That was not a good word. Father only used not-good words when he was angry. And when he was angry, he would not like to be pounced on. A tiny, pudgy hand clenched around the painful memory of the last time Father had been angry. It hadn't been very nice at all.

"Relax," a voice that was not Father's said coolly. "Getting angry wouldn't solve anything." The child blinked in surprise, the only movement she made. She hadn't realised there had been another person in the room and that was rare. So few things escaped the child's attention.

"That's easy for you to say," Father replied, still sounding angry. "What they took is of immeasurable importance to us!"

"I know that," the voice said with patience that sounded forced and strained. "I'm not saying we should let them run away with it; I'm just saying we should stay calm while we find it. Geez, it's not that hard to understand, right?"

Father was silent, which was odd. Father was never silent when he was angry. He was always loud and… scary. "You do know this affects you more than it affects me?" he finally said spitefully. "You do know that without that stupid thing, there's no way the Council will allow me to change my will? That thing is more important to them than my intentions."

"I know that," the voice repeated, starting to sound angry. "We will find it once we find out who stole it. Relax, Uncle."

Uncle? The child bit her lips thoughtfully. That narrowed down the possible identity of the mysterious speaker, but not by much. She had so many relatives that she knew nothing about, and not all of them were Kitos either.

"Fine, but we have to find it soon," Father said finally, his voice taking a tinge of anxiety. "I don't want to have to deal with that… that thing anymore."

"You mean, your daughter?"

"Don't call her that." Father's voice had grown quiet. That was worse. A screaming Father was always better than a quiet Father. "She's not my daughter, not anymore."

"You fear her that much, huh?" the voice asked, sounding amused. "That little pig-nosed brat?"

"It's easy for you to say," Father said, his voice still quiet. "You haven't seen the things she can do. She's a witch, a demon… a monster. If she finds out what I intend to do to her, I have no idea what she is capable of doing."

The child frowned. What did Father want to do to her? Send her for more tuition? Tuition was such a waste of time. There was nothing her tutors could tell her that she couldn't find in books. And books were always more interesting than her tutors, who made even the most exciting of stories boring. People are just so boring. Even this conversation was so boring. The child wished Father would stop talking to the weird stranger; she wanted him to read to her. Unlike Nanny and Mother, Father never bothered to censor the fun bits in A Midsummer Night's Dream for her. Bored and stiff from staying so still, the child yawned, stretching her legs and arms.

Abruptly, the drapes were whipped away and Father stood before her, dark eyes staring down at her in horror. "You heard!" he gasped. "Oh god, you heard!"

The child stared back at Father, shocked into silence. She had never seen Father look at her like this, full of anger, shock and… terror. "I didn't do anything wrong," she immediately protested, instinctively shrinking away. "I didn't do anything wrong!"

Father did not seem to hear her. Instead, he stumbled away from her, hands held up as if to fend off an attack. "You heard!" he repeated. "You heard!" Suddenly, Father scrambled for the table and pulled out something sharp and pointy that gleamed in the candle-light. Before the child could understand what was happening, Father lunged at her, jabbing the sharp thing into her arm.

"Owie!" the child cried out, starting to cry. "Owie! Owie! Owie!" Curling up, the child clutched her arm where a tiny pinprick of blood welled up onto pale, soft skin. "Owie," she repeated, this time more out of confusion than pain. "Owie. Owie," she continued to say as she slumped against the wall, suddenly feeling inexplicably sleepy. "Owie," she repeated once more before sliding to the floor.

As the darkness started to close in on her, the child was distantly aware of Mother bursting into the room screaming at Father. She tried to reach for Mother, but she couldn't move. She could only lay there as the light narrowed to a pinpoint and the words floated through her, empty of meaning, empty of everything but the shadows.

"What did you do to her?"

Owie.

"What did you do to her?"

Owie.

"What did you to do my Midoya?"


Dante's Inferno has long been adopted into most societies' image of how hell looks like. In those circles Dante described with loving detail, a slew of discomforts exist to torment the poor souls who had fallen to sin. Though the punishments within each hell varied, they all had similar themes: filth, gore, extreme temperatures, and an endless cycle of eating or being eaten.

Kuroro Lucifer smiled sardonically into the book in his hand. Lucky, lucky him; the place he called home had all the above and more.

Wind, hot, gritty and grimy, swept across the land, bringing with it the horrid odours of death and decay. The sun beat mercilessly onto those below, scorching the piles of metal junk lying about to unbearable temperatures. A careless bump against one of those pieces of metal would burn skin right off the flesh. Decay and decomposition, sped up by the sun, stunk up the air inside the tent that was at the moment the Ryodan's temporary home. Outside the tent, someone screamed, a shrill, terrified scream that was cut off violently.

Welcome to Meteor City; abandon all hope ye who enter.

"You're thinking dark thoughts again."

Kuroro glanced over at Franklin who was watching him quietly. "Am I now?" he questioned nonchalantly.

"You have that look on your face," Franklin rumbled, smiling slightly to show he wasn't being too serious. "Zenni for your thoughts, Dancho?"

"A zenni? My thoughts are worth so little." Kuroro smiled back at Franklin. "I was merely thinking that Meteor City is the city of contamination. Anything bright and cheerful entering this city would be automatically stained with filth. If you aren't careful, the city even creeps inside your head and turns it into a swirling pool of grime and blood." Kuroro smiled faintly. "That would be a rather succinct summary of my thoughts."

Franklin chuckled. "Dancho, I doubt there is anything in this city that could possibly make your mind even creepier than it already is."

"I agree," a soft, lilting voice said. "And I have met some creepy people in my time. Dancho, I believe you take the cake, as the saying goes."

"Why thank you." Kuroro regarded the pretty little boy in the red kimono, sitting primly in a corner of the tent. Over the course of the past three months, he had barely gotten a chance to get to know the newest member of the Ryodan. As far as he could, the little boy seemed perfectly capable and civil, but extremely distant from the rest. There was also something inexperienced in the way the newest member acted, but that was to be expected of someone that young. "How do you like Meteor City, Kalluto?"

Kalluto stared at him with large, too-intense, unblinking eyes. "It's cosy," he said, straight-faced and Kuroro smiled. With how overcrowded Meteor City was, living space was a matter of how many bodies could be squeezed into any available space. The tent they were currently in was barely big enough for four people of average size to sleep in, provided they didn't mind being pressed against each other the whole night. Given that the Ryodan were not the most physically intimate of people, they had decided to spread out over the city, taking whatever space was available, and only meeting in Kuroro's tent if he had instructions for them.

At the moment, he didn't. Normally, between missions, the Ryodan did not stay together. However, given that the chain-person, Kurapika, was still a threat, Kuroro had insisted that the Ryodan continue to stick together at least until that threat could be neutralized. Unfortunately, they were having difficulty actually finding the young man. Having sensed that Kuroro had broken his curse, he must have gone underground to wait for the opportunity to confront the Ryodan on his own terms. Well, Kuroro had confidence in his Ryodan. It might take a while, but they will find the boy and they will kill him.

In the meantime, Meteor City was as good a place to be in as any. At least Meteor City was their turf. It also had its own build in alarm system. Any outsiders entering would be noted immediately, and the word would spread like wildfire through the community. The residents of Meteor City might rape, rob and kill each other on a regular basis, but there was nothing that united them like outsiders. The whole world was the enemy and Meteor City was always at war with the enemy. What the residents did to each other were simple domestic disputes compared to what the outsiders could do to them.

As if on cue, the tent flaps parted and Shalnark came in. "Dancho," he greeted. "Hey Franklin and Kalluto."

Franklin raised a hand in greeting and Kalluto offered a curt nod.

"What news do you have?" Kuroro asked.

"Nothing on the chain-user," Shalnark admitted. "But I've been hearing interesting rumours all morning."

"Rumours? Pray tell."

"Apparently there's someone new in the city," Shalnark told Kuroro. "It's nothing new, I know. People are always drifting in and out of Meteor City. But it seems these newcomers set off alarms because they seemed to be from the mafia and seem to be looking for something."

"Is that so?" Kuroro cocked his head in thought. "Description?"

"Female and rich. Apparently she was accompanied by two men." Shalnark shrugged. "That's all I got."

"Interesting." Kuroro rubbed his chin as he thought some more. "Have you contacted the other Ryodan members?"

"Yeah. They're coming over as we speak."

"Good." Kuroro stood up. "Franklin, wait for them here, and tell them to stay here till I return. Shalnark, Kalluto, with me."

"Where are we going?" Kalluto asked, climbing to his feet.

Kuroro smiled. "Hunting."

-break-

Initially, Kuroro had thought that it would be extremely easy to locate the intruders. The residents of Meteor City did not like strangers coming in and snooping around. Given the reputation Kuroro and the Ryodan had, the residents were only too happy to help him so he could get rid of the threat. However, all the tips they received did not pay off. The strangers were obviously moving quickly through the City, refusing to stay in any one area for too long. That told Kuroro that the strangers were more dangerous than the average mafia thug. They moved like predators in another predator's territory.

"That's not good," Shalnark said when Kuroro shared his observation with him. "We get the occasional mafia thug trying to prove their worth, but those are often small fry with little knowledge of how scary Meteor City is. The dangerous ones know about us and do not simply walk in here on a day trip. These outsiders are here for a reason."

"And we may not like their reason," Kuroro agreed. "I've never liked the mafia much."

"Except this Kito woman I keep hearing about," Kalluto commented from behind them, sounding mildly annoyed. "When do I actually get to meet her? I keep hearing stories about her, and I would like to prove for myself if she is really as powerful as Machi and Phinx claim she is."

"She's probably more powerful than rumour goes," Kuroro said wryly, "and she's technically, not mafia. Still, I would strongly recommend not antagonising her. Midoya can be quite… creative about her violence."

"Is it also true you are having sexual relations with her?" Kalluto asked bluntly. "Machi told me she walked in on you fucking her before."

Kuroro eyed Kalluto over the fur lining of his coat. "You are not old enough to talk about that," he said firmly, which was just hypocritical given where they were now. Children did not exist in Meteor City. Childhood was a luxury reserved for people living in the big cities with proper sanitation and ample food. In Meteor City, there were just people, some bigger and more developed than others, and some smaller and more vulnerable.

Kalluto fumed obviously at Kuroro's comment, but did not press the issue. The other Ryodan members must have warned him about challenging 'Dancho'. Kuroro wondered what rumours his Ryodan spread about him. He definitely had quite a reputation in this place.

"I can't help wondering what these outsiders want though," Shalnark said, interrupting Kuroro's daydreams. "I doubt they are launching an invasion of Meteor City with only three people, no matter how powerful they are. The way they are moving, trying to avoid detection like this, it seems to me that they are looking for someone or something."

"Interesting, isn't it?" Kuroro mused, having reached that conclusion earlier. "What could they possibly be looking for in Meteor City? We have nothing here but trash and people. Let us assume that they are looking for someone then, instead of a bag full of trash. Who could it be?"

The answer was rather glaringly obvious. The outside world knew little to nothing of Meteor City - save for the existence of the Ryodan. "Us?" Shalnark asked. "Why would anyone want to look for us?"

"Interesting question," Kuroro agreed, smiling faintly.

Shalnark gave him an aggrieved look. "I wish you would just tell me if you already know stuff so I don't keep repeating things that are already going through your head," he complained.

Kuroro forced himself to hide the smile that threatened to surface "I don't know the answer to that, Shalnark," he confessed. "There are multiple reasons why anyone would actively seek us out. Maybe they want to kill us, maybe they want to hire us (though we are not for hire, of course), or maybe they wish to join us. Those are the three greatest possibilities."

"True," Shalnark admitted. "But that simplifies things for us."

"If we just stay put, they will come to us, so we don't need to go wandering around looking for them," Kalluto concluded. He blinked in surprise when both older men turned to stare at him. "What?" he demanded irritably. "I have a perfectly functional brain too, you know?"

"Much to our delight," Kuroro said soothingly.

At that moment, something whizzed past him and lodged itself onto the ground next to his foot. Casually, all three Ryodan members glanced at the kunai embedded on the ground then turned as one to look at the group of men in dark suits that had surrounded them.

"Genei Ryodan," one of the men said, his tone implying that might have been a statement or a question.

"Yes," Kuroro said calmly.

The man nodded and a series of guns were raised and pointed in their direction. "Come with us or die," he said coldly.

"Strange," Kalluto commented, "I see a lot more than three people here."

"Not the ones we are looking for then," Shalnark commented. "But still… filth."

Kuroro smiled faintly and allowed his Benz knife to appear in his hand. Next to him, he sensed his Ryodan members shifting into battle positions. Without appearing to move, Kuroro looked around idly. There were about thirty men surrounding them.

Too easy.


"You got attacked?" Phinx asked, forehead creasing in a confused frown. "The chain-user is coming after us, even if we're in Meteor City?"

"That is unlikely," Kuroro said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I doubt the chain-user has the power to send thirty mafia thugs after us. Besides, given that he is well aware of our strength, he would also know that sending thugs like this is a pointless move." Someone screamed in the background as Kuroro pondered over the question. "No," he finally said, "whoever sent these thugs after us is powerful and prominent in the mafia circles."

"Could it be a revenge thing for the mess we made of the auctions?" Shalnark asked, the escalating screams forcing him to raise his voice.

"What auctions?" Shizuku asked, looking confused and Franklin patted her head soothingly.

"Perhaps," Kuroro said in reply to Shalnark's comment, doubt tinging his voice, "but this does not feel personal. The thugs were trying to take us alive."

"Maybe they wanted to torture us?" Shalnark suggested, his voice getting louder as the screams got louder.

"Why would they want to torture us?" Shizuku demanded, looking more put out as Franklin continued to pat her head.

"Because they are shit-ass m…" Phinx started to say, but was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps pounding towards the tent.

Abruptly, the flaps to the tent they were sitting in flipped open and Feitan poked his head in, glaring at them. "Shut up with the speculating," he said irritably. "I'm working on getting concrete answers and all of you are distracting me from doing my job."

"Sorry," Nobunaga said, sounding extremely unapologetic, "but hey, you've been working on that thug for half an hour now and he hasn't said anything."

"Dancho brought back three other thugs," Feitan said coldly. "Eventually, one of them is going to talk."

Kuroro raised an eyebrow at that. After defeating the attackers, he had gotten Shalnark and Kalluto to bring back the five survivors of the attack to his tent for Feitan to question. So far, one of them was dead, one close to dying, and no one had said a word. He had never known anyone to hold out against Feitan like this. It had already been an hour, with all the Ryodan members except Feitan and Kalluto sitting in Kuroro's tent, waiting for results.

"Feitan," Kalluto's voice floated in from the flaps, "your prisoner looks like he's about to die and crows are starting to peck at him. You better come back here if you want any solid answers."

With another warning look at the rest, Feitan disappeared behind the flaps, muttering something about human beings being too fragile.

Nobunaga snorted derisively. "Didn't Kito teach Feitan something or other about interrogating subjects?" he asked. "I remember Feitan asking if he could learn from her."

"She tried," Machi said from the corner where she had been watching them silently. "Feitan didn't understand why he couldn't just use the pliers."

"Huh. Kind of wish Kito was here; she is bloody good at getting people to talk." The screaming had started again, but was much weaker than before. "And she runs little risk of her prisoner dying before she gets what she wants from him." Some of the Ryodan members who had never seen Midoya in action before started making questioning noises. Nobunaga simply shook his head in a way that implied to put Midoya's interrogation techniques into words would be to cheapen them.

"Actually, it might be a good idea to contact Kito after all," Shalnark said cautiously. "She runs in the mafia circles; she might have an idea of what is going on. Of course… I mean… if she knew what was going on, it's kind of weird she hadn't… ah… warned us… huh?"

Kuroro watched Shalnark avoid his stare and thought about it. The idea that Midoya might have known of an impending attack on the Ryodan and had not warned him didn't bother him as much as Shalnark might think. They didn't exactly look out for each other in that way; they trusted each other to be powerful enough to deal with their own problems on their own. Besides, he hadn't contacted Midoya in a while and he had never contacted her about work before. There was no point. She had already made it clear that she had no interest in joining the Ryodan, and Kuroro had no idea how she would react to him dragging her into Ryodan business. Either, she would generously consent to help him with little regard for payment or she would be very angry and demand kinky sex from him in return for a favour done. Truthfully, Kuroro could not see how things could go wrong, unless Midoya went angry the wrong way in which case…

"Let us try to gather more information first before we contact Midoya," he finally said. "It'll be easier for her to help us if we could give her a better idea of what we want from her."

"Yeah, well…" Shalnark paused and cocked his head. "Did you hear that?"

Kuroro blinked and listened hard. Other than the usual sounds of life and death going on in Meteor City, there didn't seem to be… "I hear…" he paused. "Are those…?"

Again, the tent flaps were whipped aside and Feitan stuck his head in. "Franklin, you're needed," he said shortly.

"For what?" Franklin asked, already rising to his feet.

Feitan pointed towards the roof of the tent and said, "Helicopters."

Right in cue, a rain of bullets tore through the tent, ripping it to shreds.

Immediately, the Ryodan scattered. Without bothering to check the status of his team, Kuroro threw himself through the flimsy material of the tent, drawing his Nen around him to form thick armour. Heavy bullets thudded against the Nen, not penetrating his defences, but hitting it hard enough to leave large, circular bruises on his skin.

Bringing his arms up to shield his head, Kuroro rolled with the blows, barely resisting them as they flung him into another tent, where the occupants already lay in splatters of blood and flesh on the dirt. The force of the bullets flung him over the dead flesh, and he ended up being propelled out of the other side of the tent.

Just as suddenly as it came, the assault stopped. The sheer momentum caused by the attack flipped Kuroro over a few more times before he stopped, arms still curled protectively around his head. Cautiously, Kuroro peered out from between his arms, half-expecting the assault to start again. Since nothing happened, Kuroro uncurled his limbs and slowly climbed to his feet, eyes immediately searching out his team members. As far as he could tell, they were dirty and dusty, but mostly intact. The other residents living nearby weren't so lucky though; they were as dead as the prisoners they had taken earlier.

"You're bleeding," Machi said, coming up to him.

"No." Kuroro tried in vain to wipe the blood and brains off his coat. "It's not my blood." Almost as an afterthought, he scanned the skies, but the helicopters Feitan had mentioned were gone. Twin plumes of smoke in the distance suggested that Franklin had already taken care of them. "Well, well," he said wryly as the other Ryodan members started to gather around him. "That was quite an attack, I must say. It's the first time in years the mafia have so openly attacked Meteor City."

"Oh, they are screwed," Phinx said, grinning widely. "They just killed a whole bunch of us."

"Effectively declaring war on us," Kuroro agreed.

"Fuck yeah!" Nobunaga cheered. "Let's go kill them, Dancho!"

"To York Shin!" Phinx growled. "We're going to rip their heads off!"

The rest of the Ryodan erupted in cheers and Kuroro smiled at what he was about to do next. "Not yet," he said and his smile widened at the crestfallen looks on his comrades' faces.

"Why not?" Nobunaga whined.

"Because there is one loose end in Meteor City," Shalnark guessed, "the three people we first heard about."

"What three people?" Shizuku asked even though Franklin had already told her about it.

"The initial report was of three people, including one woman, entering Meteor City," Kuroro explained. "We still haven't found them yet. Before we leave Meteor City, we should hunt them down. Those three interest me. Are they part of the force that attacked us? If so, why didn't they join the attack? Were they simply a recon team? But that doesn't make sense. These three, especially the woman, were described as rich. They do not sound like normal mafia thugs to me. So who are they?" Kuroro rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he paused to let the Ryodan think about what he just said. "There are two possibilities," he said finally. "Either they have nothing to do with the thugs that attacked us, and were here by sheer coincidence, or they are with the thugs that attacked us, but did not join the attack because that's not what they were here for."

Shalnark's eyes lit up. "You think the attack on us was a diversion so we wouldn't notice what these three intruders are really up to?" he asked.

"It is possible," Kuroro confirmed. "First thing's first, we find these intruders. Then we head for York Shin." He looked around the group staring at him. "Bonolenov, Kortopi, Franklin, head to Base 2 and secure it. Shalnark, Phinx, Feitan and Kalluto, go check out where the helicopters went down. If there are any survivors, bring them back here alive. Nobunaga, Machi and Shizuku are with me. We are going to hunt down the three strangers still loose in the city. When we're done, all of us will rendezvous at Base 2."

"And what do we do when we catch these three strangers?" Machi asked as the rest of the Ryodan dispersed.

"What are we going to do?" Kuroro looked around at the remains of his tent, the dead bodies scattering the ravaged ground, and smiled. "Make a guess. The first two don't count."


Given how the search for the mysterious trio had gone earlier that day, Kuroro had been expecting to have to search for days before he even caught a whiff of their activities. As it turned out, he didn't have to search for long.

Hardly two hours into the search, Kuroro obtained news that the newcomers were in District Four of the city. They were lucky, Kuroro mused. District Four was a relatively mild part of Meteor City, comprising mainly of petty criminals, thieves and others like that. If the outsiders had ended up in District Twenty-One, by the time Kuroro found them, they would be nothing more than a pile of bones, gnawed clean of any flesh.

Or maybe not. He wasn't sure who these people were, but they had been traversing Meteor City for a good number of hours by now. Either they were very lucky and had not run into any of the more dangerous residents of the city, or they were very, very powerful. All things considered, Kuroro preferred to err on the side of caution and consider them extremely powerful fighters.

As they walked up the mud paths of District Four, a dirty, grimy hand waved at them. The squat boy with a horrible hunchback, owner of the hand, held a finger to his lips then pointed to a pile of rubbish a good storey high. "Behind there," he whispered with a lisp.

Kuroro nodded his thanks and headed for the mountain of rubbish. For a moment, he paused in consider the pile of junk before him carefully. The mountain of rubbish was unstable, but not impossible to climb. With a little care, they could scale it and get a good look at these strangers without alerting them. He indicated his plan with a gesture, and all four of them skipped up the rubbish pile agilely.

At the top, Kuroro stopped just before he reached the peak. Cautiously, he stuck his head over and looked down.

Just like the boy had told them, the three outsiders were there, obviously questioning a sullen and wary man. The two men looked almost identical, tall and well-built, both dressed in black suits. There was something about them that just screamed mafia. The obvious gun holsters there were wearing and the black suits were probably clues. That was surprising; the average mafia thug just wasn't tough enough to survive an hour in Meteor City. However, as far as he could tell, these men were obviously just… normal humans. Then it wasn't them that had deterred the residents of Meteor City. Kuroro dismissed them as unimportant and looked at the third person.

The third person, as the rumour had claimed, was a woman. Kuroro couldn't see her features properly as her back to him. From what he could see, she had straight black hair, pulled into a neat ponytail at the base of her neck. She wore a baby pink pantsuit that looked very out of place in the filth of Meteor City. Kuroro thought he caught a glimpse of pearls hanging around a pale neck. The immediate impression that sprang to mind was of a rich business-woman.

However, despite the appearance of a pampered, sheltered life, something about the woman before him set off the alarm bells in his head. There was just something about the way she stood, the way she moved, that conveyed… danger. Acting on a hunch, Kuroro initiated Gyo and turned his gaze on the woman.

Oh. Wow.

Kuroro stared in amazement at the swirl of Nen surrounding the woman. It was shocking; not only was it dense and powerful, it was… beautiful, swirling and rushing about in astounding bursts of colour. It was like looking into the craziest kaleidoscope in the world, with the full awareness that all the pretty colours and shapes could turn around and rip you to pieces if they wanted to. It was awe-inspiring, seductive and… oddly familiar.

Abruptly, the woman's head snapped to meet his eyes and Kuroro heard Nobunaga gasp in surprise. Kuroro himself had frozen up in shock when he recognised her. How could he not? The woman was Midoya, Two Star Blacklist Hunter Midoya whom he hadn't seen in four months.

Then he saw the flawless skin, the subtle make-up, the colour of her pantsuit which Midoya (who normally favoured black clothing) never wore, and the hard, cruel expression on her face as she stared at him. No, Kuroro realised with a start, not his Midoya.

June Kito.


The two men, alerted by their mistress (for they were undoubtedly mafia thugs for hire), turned and stared up the pile of rubbish. Cover blown, Kuroro stood up as steadily as he could on the unstable surface. Immediately, the men stepped in front of their mistress and went for their guns, drawing them and pointing them at Kuroro.

Quick as a flash, Kuroro was at the bottom of the mountain of rubbish, ready to engage them, Machi, Nobunaga and Shizuku at his side.

"Stop where you are!" one of them shouted. "Hands where I can see them, buster!"

Since the dear man asked so politely, Kuroro deliberately stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat and stared past him insolently, fixing his eyes on Mi… June Kito. June Kito stared back at him with absolutely no recognition on her face. That would have been enough to put Kuroro on guard on most days, but there was more to it than that. Kuroro had seen Midoya dressed as June Kito before, sure. He recognised the little touches she did to make herself into June Kito: the elegant, expensive suits, the pearl jewellery Midoya normally detested, the layers of foundation on her face that hid her acne, and the ridiculously straightened hair. But he had never seen her pull on her June Kito persona before. It was startling different from the quirky, good-natured, somewhat absent-minded Midoya. June Kito's expression was cold, calculating and cruel; her back was straight and stiff; her every gesture spoke of her condescension and disgust of the rats surrounding her. The look in her eyes told Kuroro that he should feel complimented that she thought of him as a living organism at all.

In short, she was the perfect image of the evil capitalist.

"You're mafia," Kuroro said, speaking to the bodyguards instead of her as he was unwilling to make his stand against her specifically until he understood what was going on. "We don't like the mafia here. Either you leave now or you die. Your choice."

"Wrong, buster," one of the men snarled. "We got business here and we'll leave once we're done with it. You stay out of our way if you want to live."

Following June Kito's lead, Kuroro looked down his nose at the thug who had spoken and sneered openly. "You? Kill me? Don't make me laugh, thug. I know power when I see it, and you obviously have none. How often did you have to hide behind your mistress when the residents came out to seek you?"

The men bristled as one, and Kuroro knew he had struck a nerve. "Okay, that's it," one of the men growled. "You're going to die, fucker."

Kuroro smiled coldly at them and drew his Benz knife. The moment he did, June Kito's eyes narrowed at him from behind her bodyguards and she reached inside her blazer and pulled out a pretty little gun with a pearl handle that was almost more decorative piece than weapon. Beside him, Kuroro felt Nobunaga and Machi tense up immediately, aggression and uncertainty filtering through in their aura.

"Ma'am, stay back," one of the men said urgently.

"Of course," June Kito said in a cold, even voice. Then without even blinking, she raised her pretty little gun and coolly put a bullet into each of her bodyguard's heads.

From behind him, Shizuku made a surprised sound as June Kito disappeared from sight and reappeared in front of Kuroro. She reached for him, and for a moment Kuroro thought she was going to attack him. But her arms wrapped around him, and she pressed her body against his alluringly. "Kidnap me and ravish me," she moaned theatrically then kissed his lips hungrily.

Well, well, well. Kuroro barely had time to start kissing her back before her lips migrated from his lips to his neck, and she started nipping him, causing interesting little sensations to ripple down his spine to… other araes. It was tempting to let this go on, but Nobunaga was making strangled noises behind him and Shizuku was commenting on how Machi had showed her pictures like this before, so Kuroro gently pushed her away.

The hard, cruel expression he had seen on her face was gone. In its place was a familiar half-smile under eyes twinkling with amusement. "Midoya," he greeted, somewhat relieved that he didn't need to kill her. "What a pleasant surprise." Behind him, he heard Shizuku ask Machi quietly who Midoya was.

"Kuroro dear," Midoya replied affectionately. "It is a pleasure to see you again, though I must admit the surprise is all yours. I fully intended to seek you out in this lovely city you call home. Though I appreciate your love for your hometown, I do wish you lived in a place that actually has some form of reliable transport system and infrastructure. Where's a cab when you need one in this place?"

"So you were looking for me while we were looking for you," Kuroro concluded with amusement. He held her at arm's length and looked closely at her attire. The baby pink pantsuit she was wearing was obviously tailored and very expensive. Inside, she wore something white and lacy that managed to look both suggestive and professional at the same time. Even though she had been trekking through Meteor City for a while, her outfit had remained miraculously clean and wrinkle-free. She had also managed to retain possession of the string of pearls around her neck and the subtle pearl earrings on her ears. "June Kito?" he questioned. "Are you on the run from the mafia? It's not enough you had to enrage the Hunter Association, now you've managed to antagonize the mafia too? Do I want to know what you did?"

Midoya laughed. She had a very pleasant, elegant laugh. Combined with her attire and natural poise, she exuded so much class that she made the everyday filth in Meteor City look embarrassingly filthier than usual. "My dear, I have missed you," she said fondly. "Why haven't you visited? I can only assume you are terribly busy with some evil scheme. I hope it takes place somewhere in York Shin. I've been getting terribly bored lately." She smiled at him then added, "Hi Machi, Nobunaga and Ryodan member whose name I cannot remember," almost as an afterthought.

"I'm Shizuku," Shizuku told her, offering her hand in a formal handshake. "Pleased to meet you, Dancho's fuck buddy."

Nobunaga winced and Kuroro raised his eyebrow at a smirking Machi. Midoya simply laughed again. "Pleased to meet you too, Shizuku dear," she said, accepting the proffered hand. "Why, I believe we've met before. I distinctly remember fighting you in my mansion."

Shizuku stared. "You have?" she asked. "Why would I fight you? You're Dancho's fuck buddy."

"Well yes, but you didn't know it then."

"That's impossible," Shizuku said seriously. "Dancho told us years ago that you're his fuck buddy and we weren't to touch you."

Midoya blinked and stared at Shizuku hesitantly. "Now I'm confused myself," she complained. "Didn't I defeat you and dear Ubogin in my mansion when the both of you fought me?"

"No way!" Shizuku exclaimed, looking shocked. "Ubo and I never team up! It wouldn't work! He's punches usually end up blowing me away and I end up flying into a wall or something! Ubo only works with Nobu because the two of them are totally in love with each other."

"Shizuku! What the fuck?" Nobunaga roared, looking outraged and embarrassed at the same time.

"What? You always said the two of you are like brothers!" Shizuku protested. "So aren't you two totally in love with each other?"

"This is all very interesting," Midoya commented, even sounding like she meant it. "But Shizuku dear, about my mansion…"

"What mansion?"

"My mansion? The one where I fought you and Ubogin, and defeated you too."

"What? Why would I lose to you? Are you saying I'm a loser?"

"Forget it," Kuroro interrupted as Midoya's brow started to furrow into a puzzled frown. "Shizuku has… issues. Anyway, Midoya, why are you here?"

The look of confusion on Midoya's face faded and she smiled wickedly at him. "I've already told you," she replied mischievously.

Kuroro thought back on the conversation so far. "You've been kidnapped?" he asked hesitantly.

"Kidnapped and ravished," Midoya agreed.

"By who?" Kuroro asked, shocked despite himself that someone had actually managed to kidnap and ravish Midoya.

"By you, of course," Midoya replied and pressed her lips to his again.


A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Do remember to leave a review if you have the time!

Trivia: The last time the mafia had launched a full-scale attack on Meteor City had been a couple of years before Kuroro first met Midoya. The Last War (also known colloquially as That Goddamned Fucking War), lasted two long, bloody months and resulted in the death of five thousand mafia thugs and over ten thousand Meteor City residents. Up till this date, veterans of that war, basically anyone old enough to hold a stick with a pointy object attached at the end, all agreed that it was the best fucking entertainment they have had in a while.

When Kuroro mentioned the Fucking War to Midoya, she had nodded and told him that she had almost taken part in that war, but hadn't because of Hunter business. Also, she had somehow misplaced the nuclear bomb she used to own, and was too lazy to repurchase one.

Though they didn't know it then, Kuroro mused upon hear that, that was probably the luckiest break Meteor City had caught during the entire War.