"Uncle, you called?" Luna asked, voice emotionless.
"Yes. There is a job only you can do, my dear," Cephius Valdis said.
Sixteen year old Luna cocked her head at him. He made a terrible assassin. And she did not mean it in the good way. His emotions showed in his eyes, his ambitions and desires obvious, and he was simply horrible at acting. And that did not include the way his skills had deteriorated after years off the field. She had been nine when he succeeded her father as leader of their family. He had not done a single mission since.
"You must kill the leader of the Genei Ryoudan," Cephius continued, eyes glinting with malice. "Someone who survived an attack heard his name—Chrollo Lucilfer."
Cephius studied her. If he had expected a reaction, he was greatly disappointed.
"Description?"
"Average build. Black hair, black eyes, long black coat. A cross on his forehead," Cephius replied.
"Location?"
He told her an address, she committed it to memory and created a mental route in and out. No good assassin entered with a plan—those always went wrong—but every good assassin had an entry route, several exit routes, and a suicide plan. Getting caught was always worse than a quick death.
"Understood."
Luna walked out, feeling his eyes on her back the entire time.
So it was finally the Phantom Troupe, she thought as she flitted through the shadows, zetsu activated and nen entirely concealed. She didn't know the ranges of the Ryoudan's ability to sense nen, and it never hurt to be cautious. She had heard of one too many assassins who activated zetsu too late, and their target was warned when they felt the nen disappear.
Luna was always careful. She had never failed a single mission in the four years she had been active. Not to assassinate mafia, not to assassinate politicians, not to assassinate hunters. Her uncle gave her the most dangerous jobs, she knew, and it wasn't because of her capability.
Finally she halted, black clothes and hair blended into the night, and she stood on the branch staring down at the Genei Ryoudan's warehouse hideout. Eight, she sensed. Better odds of getting out than having to face the full thirteen. And one…
She recognized that nen signature, and hesitated. As an assassin she knew she could kill anyone. But she was quite sure she could not defeat him at this point in time.
Yet, she snuck in. Silently, like a breath of wind, she moved behind a mountain of crates, probably filled with stolen goods. Pages of a book crinkled and turned, a man yawned, Hisoka's nen spiked and fell as he used a crate for target practice. Only this time, amongst the rhythmic rise and fall, she felt it rise a little too sharply, a little too high. He had felt her presence.
Luna held her breath, waiting for Hisoka to alert Chrollo. She knew she could sense him anywhere, even if he was using zetsu. She didn't know it went both ways. It was a miscalculation, and if she must, she would abandon the mission.
But he didn't say a word.
Her brows furrowed. Still, she didn't make the amateur mistake of looking over the crates. If anyone saw the movement, saw her pale face flash, her life would be terminated then and there.
She counted.
Ten. Nine. Eight.
Her knife fell soundlessly into her hand.
Seven. Six. Five.
Her legs tensed.
Four. Three. Two.
She fell into a crouch.
One.
Her figure blurred, and she was behind her target, knife flashing orange in the candle light as it dove for the man's throat.
He turned a page.
And the tip of the blade stopped a centimeter from his throat.
She glanced up to see Hisoka staring down at her, an unreadable expression on his face along with a variety of lust. She mentally cursed. Of course he would stop her. Her target was his leader. And more than anything else, her target was probably someone Hisoka eventually wanted to fight and kill. He would not allow her to get in the way.
"Not bad," Chrollo said, his voice smoother and younger than she expected. A little… Seductive.
Out of her peripheral vision, she saw a flash of silver disappear up her target's sleeve, and knew that if Hisoka hadn't stopped her, Chrollo would have moved.
As it was, he continued to read calmly, even as they were currently surrounded by pissed Ryoudan members, who had reacted a little too slowly to the threat for Luna's taste.
"Who are you?" The man with a katana demanded, an inch of the blade flicking out of its sheath.
Luna stayed silent, cocking her head. Did it matter? With her blade still centimeters from their danchou's throat, it should have been pretty obvious she was an assassin. Her identity didn't matter at that point.
The wannabe samurai attacked. She tensed, waiting to be cleaved in half, but at the last moment Hisoka released her wrist, and she bounced out of the katana's range. The samurai cursed, rather vulgarly.
"I'm going to kill you, boy," the samurai growled.
Boy? Luna raised an eyebrow. Her hair and face were covered. But she had hit puberty and she had developed a semblance of a feminine body. She was no milk cow, but she thought she was a decent size. She wasn't flat, but at least her chest wouldn't get in the way of fighting.
She inwardly shrugged. If he thought she was a boy, then so be it.
The samurai closed in in a few steps and swung. She parried with her knife, a little surprised at his strength.
She sprang back before closing in herself, flashing behind him and slicing towards his throat…
Only for her body to suddenly become immobile. Nen strings, she realized, feeling something like wires restraining her. She let out a breath in a soft sigh, and activated gyo.
Hisoka smiled, steeping back to watch. Her nen was blue, a shade lighter than her eyes. And her gyo… It only lit up a single eye, flaring like a blue flame. Fascinating. He had never seen anything like that.
And it seemed that she had stopped the horrid habit of fighting in zetsu. It was terribly inconvenient, Hisoka had thought, since she was limiting herself like that. Zetsu was perfect for assassinations, but for fighting… Well, one should use their nen and hatsu.
"Oi, Machi! Don't interefere," the samurai grouched, fighting stance gone as he lazily rubbed the back of his head.
Hisoka's smile widened. So Nobunaga thought it was over. Big mistake.
A chain-sickle appeared in her hand and sliced through the threads like butter, before vanishing, replaced by her knives.
A conjurer, Hisoka thought with pleasure. Just as he suspected.
Machi's eyes widened in shock, but then she was falling to the floor in a heap, unconscious.
The samurai reacted faster. He swung for her, and she retreated from Machi's body. She cocked her head at him, her body absolutely still. And unseen to anyone, her lips twitched.
And the samurai half turned, sensing the danger, but it was too late. Knives shot towards him from everywhere she had touched, and he swung, blocking everything. But he had briefly forgotten her.
Her knife flashed out, and the samurai was down.
She stepped onto his body, stomping down hard on his back to make sure he wasn't faking, before eyeing the rest warily. Hadn't it been a little too easy…?
The blonde boy—or was it a girl?—and the dark haired girl with glasses stood back. They probably were not fighters, Luna decided quickly, but she would be careful just in case. The short black haired boy was dangerous. Sadism and bloodlust radiated off of him, and she knew he would attack soon. The giant hairy man too. And her target and Hisoka… Her eyes flicked back to them. Hisoka probably wouldn't fight. He liked one on one, not six on one.
And her target was still reading.
It was then that the giant man let out a howl and lunged.
He moved faster than she would have expected for a man his size. As she dodged, she felt a claw dig into her arm, tearing a line through her bicep. She blinked, and ran towards him.
The hilt of her knife drove into the large man's ribs with a dull thud, but she wasn't done. Her leg swung around to kick him in the side, causing him to stumble a step, and her knife drove into his shoulder.
He blinked down at her, expression unchanging.
And she stared with growing horror as she found herself unable to pull her knife out.
She released the knife, only for his large hand to grasp her arm, yanking her up, dangling her above the ground. She felt her shoulder strain, the arm threatening to come out of its socket.
She focused.
And her katana slashed through flesh and bone.
The giant roared in pain, baring his fangs, but even as her toes touched the floor, his other hand gripped her arm painfully tightly and her opponent threw his head forward.
She nearly screamed with pain as his teeth dug into her shoulder.
Unwanted tears sprung up in her eyes, and she slammed the hilt of the katana into the side of his face, forcing him to release her. Luna stumbled back, clutching the place he had bitten her.
The Valdis family had similar training to their rival family, the Zoldycks. Her pain tolerance was quite high. But having someone nearly tear a chunk out of her with their teeth of all things…
Her shoulder throbbed, her arm hung uselessly. Her other arm raised the katana in defense—
And a force hit her hard behind the head, sending her spiralling into darkness.