Summary: Come hell or high water, Kurapika was determined to regain the stolen eyes of his people. To his misfortune, the Black Whale had plenty of both. A continuation fic for the current hiatus. Spoilers: chapter 360. No pairings. Warnings: Character Deaths.
Betas: I just want to say thanks to both TheAlmightyOneofLegends and randylahey5446 for helping to make sure this chapter was as clean as possible.
The hiatus is getting to me. So here's my attempt at the Kakin Succession/Dark Continent Arcs. For now, it's a continuation fic with hope one day Togashi will make a new chapter and this story will become a divergence.
Chapter 1
Touted by Hui Guo Rou, the king of Kakin, as the next great step for humanity, the Black Whale set sail for the uncharted land of the Dark Continent. Inside a private room of the ship, Kurapika stood before three dead bodies.
Two had been double agents for the superior queens chosen to ensure Woble never posed a threat to their children. Gaping holes in their undershirts exposed the sliced flesh of their stab wounds. Heads limp, their mouths still hung open from their last breath. Bound into their chairs, flecks of robes had rubbed off onto their suits from their attempt to struggle. Laying on the floor in a pool of blood was the other corpse, a temp hunter sent by Pariston.
From his calves to his shoulders their killer, Sarid, was ensnared by chains. Occasionally his body would jerk, flopping up from the floor like a fish out of the water, as he brokenly muttered over and over. "I was free. It asked me too."
Pressing the infant prince Woble to her chest, Oito asked, "What's wrong with him?"
Sarid had been too weak.
The royal election was a ruthless affair. Fourteen heirs, all given the title of prince, from eight legal wives, underwent the succession ceremony. During the ceremony, they unknowingly received a nen ability. Unlike those who unlocked their Nen through training or talent, these "gifted" Hatsu were parasitic in nature. Utilizing the host's aura, they act without the host's awareness or control. With the awakening of Woble and the other prince's auras, the death match had begun. Only one survivor would be left: the prince who would be king. Familial blood spilled for the sake of power and greed.
Disgusting.
Kurapika expected more from those who were supposed to be leaders. But at the same time, he was not surprised that the family that produced the 4th prince, Tserriednich, had such a poor understanding of the importance of kin. Tserriednich owned the last of the scarlet eyes. The final remains of his mother, his father, and his best friend- Pairo...
Chains clinked and scrapped across the marble floor as Kurapika tightened his hold. "One of the Nen parasites must be capable of manipulating humans. We need to search him for signs of how the connection is being maintained."
Nodding over at only other surviving bodyguard, voice as hard as the metal of his chains Kurapika said, "Go check him."
With a light shove from the bodyguard's shaking foot, Sarid was rolled onto his side with a rattle. The bodyguard kept sending quick glances between Sarid and Kurapika as if he wasn't sure which he was more afraid of.
With complete control, Kurapika said, "Calm down. Young Prince Woble's ability is most likely a self-defense mechanism. If you become alarmed and uneasy, we could be attacked again."
The man flinched.
Kurapika's "motivational" speech had only made things worse. To be fair it had been less than an hour since Kurapika jammed his .22 caliber in the man's face. Nothing quite said "talk" like a loaded gun.
Along with one of the dead men and Sarid, the man was another of Pariston's moles. In theory putting him directly opposed to Kurapika as a Zodiac. Realistically as long as their goal did not conflict with the protection of Prince Woble or his assassination of Tserriednich, Kurapika would allow them to live. Reclaiming the eyes of his people took precedence over all else. He was a Kuruta first and a Zodiac second.
The stakes were too high to allow possible misinformation. Failure of the Zodiac expedition could mean the Hunter Association's loss of the confidence of the V5, the five most economically countries in the world, and the large support of various companies. On a larger scale, the last five attempts to claim the Dark Continent had brought the great calamities Ai, Brion, Hellbell, Papu, and Zobae Disease upon the world. A failed expedition had a high price for humanity.
In the best case scenario, the connection could be severed and Kurapika would have two sources of information on Pariston's plans. While he'd already learned from the other surviving spy that their goal was to join Beyond's expedition upon arrival at the Dark Continent, cross references never hurt.
Whether it was the succession war or the contest to claim the Dark Continent, information was key. His only information was the location of his own moles: Izunavi- the man who taught him Nen, Melody- his favorite subordinate; Basho- his most noisy subordinate; Hanzo- a ninja he'd passed the Hunter Exam with; and Bisky- a woman recommended by Killua. Undercover within the other prince's entourages, they would be unavailable to provide him any backup.
The bleak fact was that all the rival prince's retinues were superior in strength to Woble's. Strength, however, could be overcome by any number of factors if an opponent had the proper mix of ingenuity and intelligence.
Crunch.
The other bodyguard tripped over his own feet as he scurried away from Sarid.
A moist pop came from within the nest of chains; it was the sound of tearing flesh. Bones snapped as Sarid's spine bent backward and a lump wriggled up his throat. Mouth open as he screamed in pain a tiny bear with three eyes popped its head out of his mouth to say, "Lemme know when you're free? M'kay?"
Kurapika allowed his chains around the dead man to dissipate. Conjuring new ones he struck at the beast. A costly method as the aura from his previous weapon went to waste, but time efficient.
The bear-like creature giggled as it was ensnared.
With a twist of his wrist, the beast was dead. Popped like a blood-filled balloon.
All was quiet, save for the harsh panting of the other bodyguard.
Then there was a sound.
It was the sound of something slimy. Something that slowly slithered its way to another thing, slightly sticking to the surface it crawled on, popping small bubbles of air underneath it and making suction noises.
"H-Help," cried the bodyguard as he looked to Kurapika. With a light trill like a cooing bird, a small black creature with one eye and suckers for feet crept into his ear.
Behind black lenses, red eyes stood in judgment. Risk factors required elimination. Kurapika bit his lip, disgusted at himself and at the taste of blood. His people had to come first; there would be no help.
He delivered the man's sentence.
Kurapika's stomach turned with each drip-drip-drop of blood off his chains. Repulsive. The blood lent a rusty smell to the air as if he were ensnared within his chains being dragged to hell with his victims. He could still see the empty canyon near the outskirts of Yorknew City, the red moon, and Uvo falling. Killing got easier, he'd discovered, but dealing with the aftermath never did.
The fourteen man battle royal had just begun and Woble was down to a single guard.
Kneeling down, blood smeared on his hands as he grabbed the man's gun off his corpse. Skin still warm brushed against his fingertips. It was sticky. Sickening.
With a deep exhale he stilled his hands shaking. "Take this. Aim for the center of the chest and keep shooting until they stop moving."
As Kurapika handed the gun to Oito he couldn't help, but grimace. He'd begun to believe over the past two years in the mafia that he'd seen everything, but deep down he knew the image in front of him was going to haunt him. The baby Woble lay cradled against one of her mother's hands and the gun rested in the other.
His arms were heavy as if remembering the slight weight from when she'd allowed him to hold Woble.
Using them like pawns in a chess game would be so simple. It was so easy to lie, to avoid the questions and truth he never wanted to answer too, but lying was the easy greedy solution, a shameful act.
Working for Oito had gained him access to the 1st and 2nd tier of the ship, "the hunting grounds", where the princes stayed. Tserriednich was within his grasp and it could cost him as little as walking away from her to go down the hall. She and Woble, however, would be assassinated.
He was selfish, but he wasn't that selfish.
Sacrificing them would not bring justice to his clan; he'd given his word. "If you will accept my conditions, I promise I will protect the two of you with every last ounce of my strength." An honorable man kept his vows.
Mouth pressed tightly into a thin line, Oito gave a slow nod. The ease of her hand around the gun left likely a remnant for her impoverished youth. By her own admission, she'd lived a gluttonous life until learning of her daughter's fate. But even surrounded by riches, life had been far from easy. It took dirty hands to become a queen, even dirtier to stay, and it seemed that the way she'd got in was the same way she was going to get Woble out.
While the eight queens had no public ranking, there was a strict hierarchy with Oito holding the lowest rung as the newest wife. A constant vigil to maintain their power was held by the superior wives. Each time the king took a new wife, the number of bodyguards allowed to his heirs increased by one. They then each choose one of the new bodyguards for the new queen's entourage to serve as their mole, leaving themselves one loyal guard richer and the newbie surrounded by double agents.
The thirteen other princes each had approximately fourteen agents, one for each queen plus an additional seven for the voyage, minus any casualties. They would almost assuredly be holding up in the safety of their rooms.
But Oito and Woble needed to find a more defensible area. The large room was too much space for Kurapika to cover alone and would allow a greater number of hostile creatures to engage him at once. Now or never, there would be no surviving the case of a coordinated attack.
Carrying 200,000 passengers, escaping to the Black Whale's 3rd deck for refuge was their best option. Within the masses, they would be untraceable. There was a significant risk that given the uncontrolled nature of the Nen beasts that they could still be located, but it was better than being sitting ducks in Woble's assigned room. It was too early to take advantage of the chaos on the lower decks hitting its peak, but he decided to enact his plan to sneak them down below.
The Black Whale had 5 decks. Their current location was on the 1st deck the housed the royal family and the V5's political VIPs. The 2nd deck held various celebrities and prominent figures, as well as the wealthy and upper-class. The 3rd deck and below were for the general public and regular passengers.
However, moving would not be simple. The 2nd and 3rd deck were completely cut off from each other by massive, thick walls. During emergencies, the walls can be opened or shut, but only from the 2nd deck. Furthermore, Kakin soldiers officially serving as guards until arrival at the Dark Continent patrolled the pathways around the residential quarters. The connection zones between the ship's 1st-3rd decks as well as the full length of the 1st and 2nd deck were under Marshall Law. Guard stations were placed at each connection point. In addition to the troops. One hundred and fifty temporary hunters, hunters that had been granted limited versions of a pro-license for the duration of the expedition, worked in cooperation with the troops.
The troops were a low-level threat as they both followed a predictable pattern and had no known nen users. The hunters were a potential problem. Due to the lax conditions placed by the Dark Continent Committee, they knew nothing of these people's motives and some knew Nen. They'd wanted to bring in as many allies as they could find, but they may well have let the foxbear into the hen house.
Extra caution would need to be exercised around anyone prowling the pathways. Mizaistom had requested backup on the 3rd and 4th decks as the crime rate had skyrocketed among the passengers. Any hunters left were either connected to a rival prince or had some other ulterior motive for staying behind.
He took a deep breath and reached for the door's handle, trying to push away thoughts of who might be on the other side. Focused on cleaning up after the succession war, the troops passed without a sparing them a single glance. Wheels, badly in need of oil, spun past with a sharp creak as troops breezed by them pushing covered stretchers. A pale hand with a shiny gold wedding band had slipped out of the cover to droop lifelessly as the stretcher was taken away.
Heart hammering against his ribcage, Kurapika darted out of the room. Leading his charges down one of his planned escape routes he headed towards the connection gate for the 2nd deck that was the farthest from the residential quarters. It was risky to take such a long path, but the entrance itself would be less heavily guarded. Time slowed to a horrible crawl during the long seconds they spent hidden behind corners, but it was all too fast each time they scurried to reach the next one. Soon they were within a few turns of the exit.
Peeking around a corner he viewed the next hallway.
A lone man in a wrinkled hoodie leaned against a wall his face buried in an open book. Tap-tap-tap his finger drummed against the outside cover.
"Wait here. I'll come back once I've cleared the way."
Wide frightened eyes looked to him for guidance. Closing her mouth, Queen Oito swallowed a plea for him to stay close. Scarcely daring to breathe she hide huddled with Wobble behind a column.
Odds were in favor of the man being a threat, but there was a chance he was an ally of the Hunter Association. If the lady luck smiled at him, he could use his new authority as a Zodiac to get them passed. Unfortunately, if running a bodyguard and gambling syndicate had taught him anything it was that lady luck was absolutely fridged.
Using Gyo Kurapika searched the man and the surrounding area. Nothing seemed out of place, but dread curled in Kurapika's stomach.
Stepping out into the hallway he placed his bet and said, "Stand down, I'm here to ensure everyone has gone to provide backup to the 3rd deck. People are on the verge of rioting down there."
"Oh, This must be my lucky day." The man turned to face him directly.
As the hood shifted, Kurapika saw his face. It was the one that haunted his nightmares. Chrollo Lucilfer.
"Do you have some sort of inhuman need to torment me?" Kurapika's voice was tight as he hissed through clenched teeth.
This was the man that had massacred his clan on a whim. The Kuruta clan had been "gifted" with eyes that turned an enchanting shade of red under the effects of strong emotions. For those eyes, he left 128 dead. Family members had been forced to sit facing each other, stabbed repeatedly before their beheading. Children were tortured to death in front of their parents. Those with the scarlet eyes went last, having their eyes gouged out.
They were beautiful and rare so Chrollo took them. When they lost their novelty, he sold them.
A crisp crinkle cut through the air as Chrollo turned a page. He replied, "This is nothing personal. Royalty tends to keep treasure, I want access to them, and people with that access walk through this area."
'Nothing personal,' echoed in Kurapika's head.
Hellfire burned in his eyes even as he tried to remain in control. He curled and uncurled his fists. Collecting his people's eyes, had to come first. No matter how much he wanted to punch Chrollo till his face caved in. And then kick him. Hard. Punting his head like it was a deflated football.
A sharp exhale, he released the poisonous rage building inside. Head hung down, he was disappointed in himself. Both for the violence he craved and allowing himself to be affected by it. "Red-eyed monster", the townsfolk had called him that when he'd left the village with Pairo. He'd never let those words become true. Lost in his memories he touched just under his eye; he was not a monster, on the inside at least.
In a soft voice he said, "If you're just here for treasure, we don't have to fight. Let me pass and I'll ignore that you were ever here."
"Do you believe in souls?"
Of course, Kurapika did. The alternative that everyone was truly gone... His entire body locked up, he wasn't going to let them go. No one was ever going to take from him again.
"...I do, Uvo loved a good fight, so I wreaked havoc and sent him friends in hell. However, I have two more souls to appease now. I have a deal to make with you. Don't take this as a challenge, but I'm 100% certain you'll see things my way."
Kurapika spat like a hissing cat. "Never."
"Do you see this book?"
"You haven't stolen my eyes, yet."
The bindings were black and the open pages yellow with age. Clearly, he needed to keep watchful of it, but what Chrollo used it for was unknown.
Chrollo's lips formed a self-satisfied smile. Tilting the book he revealed a page with the picture of an unknown man on it. "With this, I could always take your Hatsu. Those chains seem quite useful."
A powerful ability to be sure. But, as the sword in his heart could attest power wasn't free it always came at a cost.
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Kurapika snorted, it was only too fitting an ability. A Hatsu was a personal expression of self. He put everything he was, every ounce of his hatred into his chains. All that book told him is that Chrollo lacked in creativity and in humanity. He robbed and use others for his own gain, making the victims of his book pay the price for his crimes.
He slipped a bookmark into his book before stowing it away inside his hoodie. "I heard from the other spiders about Pakunoda's memories. It's your abilities that are truly fascinating. Complete efficiency in every category while your eyes are red. Limitless potential. That's something even I can't steal. You could do so much, be anything, why do you limit yourself to serving others?"
Working as a mafia dog, there wasn't a day he didn't wish he hadn't chosen the path of revenge and self-ruin. But, if given the choice a thousand times he'd choose it every time. Regret came from his wish that it had never been necessary to associate himself with scum. His conscientious was clear when it came to working in the underworld. Once he'd had a family, then in the blink of an eye he was an orphan at 12-years-old, with nothing and no one in the world. Powerless. "Power with no restraint only makes monsters." It's detestable. Corrupt.
"Monsters... You're scared. I think the reason for that is quite human," said Chrollo in a low voice as if speaking to a small child. "We settle for the familiar, rather than risk the unknown."
The world that was familiar to him was gone.
Warm afternoons spent kicking up the cool water of the river. Resting in the shade of the trees they talked about all the adventures they would have together. They'd duel giants, rescue princesses from assassins, and capture bandits just like D Hunter! Pairo had always believed in him. On the days he stayed inside studying, his mother rushed around the house trailed by the sweet scent of cinnamon and cookies. She'd believed in him too, chirping at any chance she got about how her brilliant baby boy was going to change their village.
"Don't you dare speak about them." Using En he concealed the links connected to his restraining middle finger: Chain Jail. Faced with the spider his chains would not break. Nor would he.
"It's about you, isn't it? Tell me what your dreams were as a child."
Kurapika had wanted to be like D Hunter: to never back down to the challenge and live life to the fullest. He'd wanted to make his mom proud. Most of all he'd wanted to keep his promise to Pairo. 'I wish to share my happiness with all my comrades.'
"Who was it that threw those dreams down the drain?"
He'd wanted a life that when he next saw Pairo he could tell him from the bottom of his heart that it was fun. A part of him died that day. A life that had been snuffed out on the same night as 128 others.
'Also, I shall share their sorrow.' ...Because they were gone. Forever. He was alone with the monsters. Someone had to stop them, punish them, send them down to the fiery pit they deserved to burn in. 'Let our blazing scarlet eyes bear witness...'
Swimming in a sea of red he was drowning. The loss of rational thought, insanity, madness brought on by the anger flowing through his blood into his scarlet eyes.
His voice was low, almost a growl. "Be quiet. You have no right to speak to me. You've stolen my life!"
He was a bubbling cauldron of hate. His aura overflowed everywhere chilling the room as it writhed around him in long thin strips.
The red world narrowed down to Chrollo.
"Actually that's a crime I haven't committed, yet. But I appreciate the vote of confidence," said Chrollo as he pulled out his book.
Large white fish made of bone swam in the air. "These are Indoor Fish, they can only survive indoors and feed on human flesh. While a person is being eaten, they do not feel pain or bleed, and will remain alive and perfectly conscious even if mortally wounded.
"Sadist." Lashing out at Chrollo, Kurapika's chains flailed against the ceiling, the floors, and the walls unable to find the target of his rage. He only needed to herd Chrollo towards his Judgement Chain. If he could ensnare him, Chrollo would be forced into Zetsu making his fish irrelevant. Failing that, each time Chrollo pulled out or put away his book it came out of pockets within his clothing, therefore it was most likely a physical object rather than a conjuration. Destroying it may completely disable his abilities.
High pitch the whistle of wind flowing between plates of bone, a fish swooped in on Kurapika. Turning sharply he dodged, but part of his coat jacket was caught in the creature's mouth. It dissolved before his eyes. A change of tactics was in order. Normally after a hit, he could depend on his Holy Chain, however, it healed him by enhancing his natural ability to recover. He could only recover if there was still enough of him to do so.
Aiming for the fish, his chains smashed through the bone to a solid inside. Standing in a sea of broken bone he noticed the walls and remaining fish had been covered in markings some plus and some minus.
"With my left hand, I can affix the seal of the sun (plus). While with my right I can affix the seal of the moon (minus)." Making a gun gesture with his hand Chrollo placed it at his temple. "When these two symbols touch... BANG." He fired an imaginary bullet with his hand. "Once the marks are affixed, they will remain in existence until they explode even if the book is closed."
Dodging around the in a hallway had already been challenging given it's long and thin nature. Now he would need to be wary of the fish coming close enough to cause and explosion near him by either crashing into the environment or each other. As he eyed the fish, he saw Chrollo moved his bookmark again.
Kurapika raised an arm to strike. But as the fish swarmed, Kurapika was forced to retreat or risk blowing up with them as they bumped into each other.
A glowing stamp appeared in Chrollo's hand. "This is Order Stamp. When affixed to an object it creates a 'puppet' that can obey voice commands. A shame with the mess you've made it can't be used on corpses. I'd say they're inanimate, but the abilities original owner seems to disagree."
"Crash into the walls."
Ramming themselves into the walls, the fish exploded in bursts of plaster, bone fragments, and gore.
Dust from the destroyed architecture clouded the air. Coughing, Kurapika covered his mouth with his sleeve. Sweat and dust in his eyes blurred his sight. Rubble pelted him as the walls shattered. Flicking his wrist he sent his chains towards the last location he'd seen Chrollo. The links rattled. A stray tendril connected, wrapping around Chrollo's leg tearing through clothing and skin.
Fat drops of blood and flesh splat against the floor like rain as Kurapika yanked Chrollo off the ground tossing him into a wall. The chains went slack as his prey escaped and curled back to him as if it were a recoiling whip.
There was a shift in the debris. A movement to the left - as a shadow fell over the dust cloud.
Hand raised, Kurapika pushed his energy into his hidden Chain Jail. Striking with it towards the disturbance, in a twisting web of metal, his chains tore through a fish with a series of sharp cracks.
Chrollo leaped forward from the side of Kurapika and grabbed his arm, restraining it with both hands.
Kurapika jerked out of his hold. Fumbling he failed to pull out his switchblade. His body felt heavy, he was too tall, and his hands were too big. He knew these hands, they had just been holding him. Worse he knew the face looking back at him through the red haze, it was his own.
"What have you done?"
Even as his eyes burned, his blood turned to ice.
"This is Covert Hands," said the other him as it raised its hands. On the right hand, there was a black ring within which was a black arrow pointed towards the middle finger. The other mark on the left hand was the opposite color scheme and pointed towards the wrist. "Two marks appear one on each palm. Touching someone with the black mark on my right hand causes them to take on my likeness. Likewise touching someone with the white mark on my left hand allows me to take on their likeness."
A wad of needles might as well have been in his throat as he tried to swallow. Mouth dry and throat tight his new voice cracked as Kurapika said, "And if you use both hands-"
"-the target and my own appearance will be swapped. It's just a shame the effect is only cosmetic."
He'd been so blinded by anger that he'd fall into Chrollo's trap. It was all too clear as soon as the dust settled.
The fish did not appear till Chrollo opened his book because he must have the page open to use the ability. Chrollo could use a second stolen ability, but he used different ones. Therefore it could not be that they were on the opposite page of the open book, but the bookmark that allowed their usage.
First, Chrollo opened his book to summon his Indoor Fish while having Sun and Moon bookmarked. Knowing the limits of his Healing Chain, Chrollo predicted he would target the fish first, using that time he affixed Sun and Moon to the surrounding walls and the fish further away from the carnage. Then Chrollo moved his bookmark to Order Stamp to puppet the fish. They were ordered to smash into the walls to set off Sun and Moon creating a smoke screen. Unable to spot Chrollo, he could not entrap him with his Chain Jail. With all the movement of the fish, Chrollo was camouflaged within the shifting cloud as he moved his bookmark to Covert Hands. When he turned away from him, Chrollo struck.
Fingers tightly weaved through Kurapika's now black hair scratching at his scalp. Chrollo yanked him partially off the floor. "Between sealing my Nen and Hisoka's defection, you put us down four members with minimal help. You know you have earned a spot by killing Uvo and Paku?"
"I'll die first!"
"One dead man chasing me is enough," said Chrollo as he threw Kurapika to the floor.
Thunk, his shoulder bloomed with pain as he landed. Laying on his side he shivered at the sight of his body standing to favor one side as a torn and mangled leg hung limply. "What?"
"It's exactly what it sounds like. I need to ensure the spider's survival. You need the scarlet eyes. I can be anyone and go anywhere. You have abilities we need. And as you've just experienced, you can't fight me and win. I know your abilities, but even if you know mine I can always get more. Understand?"
"Go to hell!"
Chrollo sighed. "Disappointing, I took you for being smarter than this. Perhaps you just need time to cool your head." His shoes squeaked against the hard floor as he turned on his heel to leave. "You can get your body back, but first, you have to catch me. ...I'm sure I'll see you again soon."
That grin on his face... Kurapika wanted to look away, needed to tear his eyes away, but he could not. He'd become the monster that he fought. Literally. He threw up. Coffee and stomach acid covered the floor. The sour smell made his eyes water. By the time he finished heaving his eyes were tightly shut, and he'd curled up into the fetal position. Opening his eyes he saw that Chrollo was gone.
The chains on his hand jingled as he touched his pounding head. His heart was beating fast, it was loud in his ears frightening him that it would lead Chrollo right back to him. That, or it would burst out of his chest. Both options sounded rather unappealing.
Staggering to his feet, he turned back to search for Oito and Woble. They couldn't be left alone if the Troupe was hanging around the area.
Too long in the legs and too high up, he careened almost drunkenly down the first hallway. By the second he improved to an awkward shuffle.
A faint perfume drifted from around the corner. Vanilla, the same scent that had filled Woble's suite.
His shoulders sagged with relief. "Queen Oito."
Entering the hallway he saw her looking down the barrel of the .22 he'd given her. Stance wide she stood like an angry mother bear between himself and an injured Chrollo with Woble in his lap. He lunged back into the previous hallway; without hesitating, she pulled the trigger. Shots fired again and again. The click of the trigger being pulled continued even after the final round. He'd never been so unhappy that someone took his advice.
With his senses thrown into disarray, he could not guarantee he'd be accurate enough to avoid injuring Oito or Woble. There was no choice, he had to retreat for now. He sprinted away from the group until he was gasping for air. Still trembling, he stumbled to the closest wall and plopped down before he fell down. Sweat stung his eyes, and he wiped his face on the sleeve of his suit. Newly cleared eyes scanned for a hint of his location. The number of the nearest suite door was familiar. He'd gotten turned around and was almost back to where he'd had his encounter with Chrollo. He shuddered.
With a deep breath, he pushed himself up. The fact was he'd been replaced by a Class A criminal and as much as he hated to admit it; he was going to need every ally he could find. The only two people he could trust and possible contact were Leorio in the 3rd deck medical clinic or Mizaistom on the 4th deck. He had to keep going, even if it was one step at a time. The weight was seemingly impossible, but he slowly went on the left and then the right. Chunks of plaster crunched underfoot as he passed the wreckage towards the connection gate.
The stairwell between the 1st and 2nd deck was clogged with the dead. Watching his step he passed torsos burst open and limbs blown off as if they'd exploded from the inside. Disturbing as the mangled flesh was, it worried him deeply that he was unscathed.
Chrollo was serious about an alliance. One that could possibly be on the more permanent side...
There was little doubt having a team of expert thieves would prove useful to his goal. But he would never work with them. They killed for their whims, a line he would not cross. Not even if they offered him ice water in hell for it. If he contacted anyone, they could use them against him. It was a catch-22. He could never work with the Phantom Troupe, but he also could never bare to lose anyone again. This was why he needed the strength to work alone. That strength had failed him.
A sharp gasp came from close by. Someone had spotted him. Whirling towards the source he prepared to attack. .22 in hand he froze as he met the other man's eyes. "What are you doing here?" Didn't he know it was dangerous!?
Leorio stared at him, mouth hanging wide open in shock as the medical supply boxes slipped out of his hands crashing to the ground with a harsh thunk thunk thunk.
