I WANNA WATCH THE WORLD BURN! I'm so happy with the result of this chapter, I took about 3 days writing it and it was def worth it. I hope you don't get so tired while reading because this is huge, but I promise that in two chapters I will reward you for your perseverance u.u Prepare yourselves, good things come for those who wait!
We'll get to see Kite soon btw, don't forget that according to the story's timeline it's already in the beginning of April and **someone's** birthday is coming. Will everything work out when Dhea finally gets to meet them after so many years apart? Wait a bit and you'll know!
MEDE DISCOVERS ILLUMI'S NAME! YAY!
I hope you like the chapter :)
P.S.: Silva Zoldyck is an asshole. — Cherry
Medea realized that everyone in the ballroom was staring at her simply because she was being guided to the center of the hall by the patriarch of the Zoldyck family. He was a few inches shorter than her, probably due to his advanced age, but she didn't mind it, to her it was actually pretty funny. He placed his right hand slightly below her shoulder blades and held her gloved hand gently, positioning herself perfectly before starting to rotate her through the space. His movements were precise and calculated, typical of someone who was used to dealing with murders. Medea didn't expect anything different from someone of such importance.
In the background, the sound of several musical instruments played in harmony with the almost choreographed steps of the duo, which glided along the white floor with lightness and serenity between the couples. Killua's grandfather stared at her for a few seconds as he analyzed her, attracting her attention that, until then, was focused on the chocolate fountain. Realizing that the moment could favor her, Medea decided to test the waters before she tried to fish any information on the Scroll.
"Mr. Zoldyck, do you know something about ancient civilizations?" She inquired with apparent indifference.
He raised an eyebrow.
"I suppose. Why do you want to know?"
"Recently, the topic's been appearing in several books of mine, but somehow none of them can explain a specific period." She sighed, feigning sadness. "Knowing your family's influence and the vastness of your library, I wondered if you could enlighten me about the Irhenian period."
The man laughed, a light sound that showed how entertained he was with the subject, and shook his head. "Unfortunately, my dear, I don't think I can be of much value in this matter." He commented. "There are almost no traces of this era to talk about, and even researches on it haven't yielded positive results, they're not so useful."
"Almost no traces? Do you mean there's still any chance of knowing more about it then?"
His eyes shone and he smiled cunningly. "There are few documents currently available, but they are very rare."
"Then I suppose you are in possession of one, correct Sir?" He nodded.
"Please call me Zeno, there is no need for such formality." He said. "However, I must say that you're correct, I do have a scroll about the era's final years in my personal collection." A bell rang in her head and she mentally wrote down that information. What were the chances of being able to find out details she'd need for the mission's success without having to let someone grope her? Next to nil! She'd found out about the location of the target just by eating a cupcake! Everything was going too well, no doubt the Great Changeable was smiling at her.
"Ah! How interesting! Did you finish reading it?" She couldn't alarm him about her interest in the scroll, so shed have to play the erudite role for a while longer.
"Oh, no, it's more of a decorative object than anything." 'Rich people and their bizarre habits.' She thought, nodding softly and let a 'hm' slip past her lips. "It's too fragile to be handled at all times." His grayish eyes stared a point behind the young woman and he ceased the waltz smiling mysteriously to her, who just tilted her head in confusion. "Well, it was a pleasure dancing and talking to you, but now I'm gonna leave you alone so you can enjoy the rest of the event."
He walked away without waiting for her to at least respond, and she shrugged. Rich people were already strange, but old and rich people were even more chaotic. She walked to the melting chocolate fountain and took one of the metal sticks that held the fruits together, dipping them into the liquid before proceeding to taste them. Since she was already there anyway, the least she could do was enjoy the food, right? Some droplets of the now warm chocolate dripped down the side of her mouth and dirtied her chin as she finished eating a grape. Before she could look for something to clean herself, one hand extended to her a linen napkin, that was promptly grabbed.
"Thank you very much." She turned to the person.
In front of her was a tall man with long black hair, the killer of whom she'd become an accomplice on Evanor Lasym's murder; even wearing a mask, she knew it was him, she could recognize those dark eyes anywhere. Medea felt her nose throb just by staring at him and her heart began beating faster. What was he doing there? That was a private event – which she had successfully crashed! – and she was sure they wouldn't let any assassin come in without an invitation... Unless he was an acquaintance or, worse, part of the Zoldyck family. But the second hypothesis was extremely unlikely, it couldn't be correct... Or could it? It would make a lot of sense, considering that she'd heard Killua's mother talk about an older brother leaving the invitation to the boy, precisely on the Hunter Association's Ball night.
Fucking hell, that was Killua and Alluka's brother!
The murderer, whose name Medea didn't know even thought they'd met three times, looked closely at the woman in front of him, who was as static as a statue due to how surprised she was. The white napkin was still placed over her dirty chin and she didn't seem to make mention of moving it to clean up so soon. He arched an eyebrow, as if expecting a reaction from her. As if waking up from a trance, she cleaned herself up and tried not to reveal the nervousness she felt, hoping that he would not recognize her.
"Sorry, I think the wine made me a little dizzy." She spoke up.
He didn't answer anything, just continued to watch her analytically, like a scientist dissecting a frog to find out what he wanted. A slight wrinkle formed between his eyebrows, he seemed frustrated with something. Sighing, he shook his head slightly and cleared his throat.
"My grandfather advised me to call you to dance." His voice was as serene as she remembered, but it didn't sound as annoyed or ironic as the other times, making it possible for Medea to taste it carefully.
"Does that mean you want my company on a waltz?"
"Obviously." He replied while sipping a sip of the champagne in his cup, completely disinterested.
The thief took a hand to her lips and laughed jocosely. "Do you consider this a decent invitation? Do you believe I'll simply accept it just because your grandfather sent you here?"
He rolled his eyes, certainly bothered by the answer, and his face became a little more serious.
"You came to this event out of your own free will, the least you can do is accompany your host in a dance."
"And that means I must obey you?" She asked sarcastically. "In that case, choose another guest to dance with, because I'm not going." She threw him a disguised smile and turned his back to leave him, stopping when he held his wrist. His touch was strong enough to get her to give him attention again, but not to hurt or coerce her.
He closed his eyes and sighed. "Would you mind dancing with me?" He muttered without much emotion. Well, that was something better already.
"Good boy." She teased and he frowned. "I'll be yours until the end of the song." She extended her gloved hand to him and followed him as he took her to the center of the Ballroom.
The man placed his hand on Medea's left shoulder blade, taking her right hand on his left while she placed the free one on his shoulder. He started the dance, taking a step forward with his right foot, and she took one back before they both started sliding through the guests. Under the diffused light of the crystal chandelier, his mask shimmered as if it were made of pure silver and his red garnet tuxedo, an interesting shade between wine and burgundy, highlighted his extremely pale skin to the point of making him look like an ethereal creature. For the first time Medea was able to observe him, not just get glimpses.
He had thick eyelashes, which created shadows on his prominent cheekbones, and bypassed the large black eyes. She could see a pattern in the Zoldyck siblings' eye shapes, all of them were slightly almond-shaped and feline, some more than others, but that detail was still there. His rosy mouth was small and she noticed that his lower lip was plumper than the upper one, making it even more delicate. The long and snatched nose very much reminded her of Alluka's, yet his had less smooth strokes than that of his sister.
His long locks were stuck in a low ponytail that fell over his right shoulder, and when they slid from side to side or spun during the Waltz, a few strands close to his face loosened. Medea thought it was funny that someone so impeccably dressed would allow that small flaw, however she didn't comment anything.
Slightly tired of the boring silence, she decided to start a conversation.
"So I'm not your type?" She questioned light-toned, making him focus his eyes on his face.
"Huh?"
"You said your grandfather told you to call me to dance, implying that you wouldn't have done so if you had the choice. Not that I care!" She hurried to explain. "I'm just curious, it's not every day that someone comes to me reluctantly."
"It's unnecessary for you, or anyone other woman here, to fulfill some kind of requirement of mine. It's not like I have much choice, after all." He replied, looking away to stare at the door expectantly. "Inevitably, endurance and intellect, in addition to family influence, will be the criteria used by my family to choose my bride." He shrugged.
Medea stared at him, her lips ajar with words that refused to leave. She was about to ask him to let her go when the waltz ended and she found herself under that heavy, domineering gaze again. She couldn't move a single muscle, she felt like a mouse in front of a cat – frightened and afraid to make any sudden movement. He didn't hesitate to pull her out as soon as the musicians began another song, his long fingers intertwining with those of the woman.
Upon realizing that she was already out of the space with glass walls, Medea tried to pull her arm hard, looking furiously at the killer. "What do you think you're doing?"
He tilted his head to the side, slightly confused, and squinted his eyes.
"Taking you to a private place so I can test you, of course." Medea felt heat rising from her cheeks and ears, and she was sure that her whole face must've been flushed at this point.
"Are you crazy? I'm not fucking you, let go of me right now! " The white-haired woman demanded whereas he kept pulling her towards the mansion. She stuck her heels on the soft ground, creating resistance for him, who simply turned around with disdain.
"We're not gonna have sex, you idiot, you're gonna be tested with the other preselected women."
'Just great, now he thinks I actually came here to be his bride!' She thought as he didn't stop dragging towards the inside of the mansion, passing through the main entrance that full of employees. They stared at them uncomfortably, like adults watching a child throw a tantrum in a mall. Wonderful, besides having to face whatever that family would prepare for her, she was also going through that embarrassing moment. You go, white girl!
"But you said you couldn't choose your bride! And I don't even want to participate!" She argued desperately.
"My grandfather chose you among all the others, your presence is indispensable." He remarked and stared at her over his shoulder. "By the way, the invitation was very explicit about the Ball's purpose, if you didn't want to risk being chosen why did you come?"
"I only came for the food!" She shot back as she struggled. Medea couldn't attack him with her weapons, she hadn't discovered the location of the collection where the scroll was yet, otherwise she'd lose all chances of stealing it (and most likely she would be slain, but she didn't want to think of that possibility). Therefore, she continued to struggle in an attemp to irritate the man and, who knows, to get him to release her.
"Get the fuck off me! I want to go back to the Ballroom!" As fast as lightning, he threw her against the wall, snatching a grunt of pain from her.
Holding her by the neck, he stuck his nails into its tender skin and towered over her, which wasn't difficult due to their height difference. He looked deep into the thief's eyes, a crease between his wrinkled eyebrows, irritation stamped on his face. He squeezed her throat once again, restricting her air circulation.
"You're getting on my nerves. Either you shut up now, or I swear I'll break your neck, am I making myself clear?"
With fury in her eyes, she nodded lightly and groaned with relief as she felt the hand let go. She coughed a little, regulating her breathing, and noticed that he seemed slightly calmer. Maybe he was the kind of guy who liked to spank women, she felt sorry for the poor girl who ended up married to him, she'd get an ass whooping every single day.
The rest of the way was followed in silence and he no longer held her hand, fortunately. In fact, he didn't seem to even consider her presence there anymore, it was as if he was on autopilot. It was like being in the presence of a ghost. She frowned. For someone who had asphyxiated an alleged suitor a few minutes ago in a fit of rage, he seemed way more relaxed now. Was he bipolar? Even worse, had Killua or Alluka been victims of this kind of situation?
He went followed the path to what appeared to be the basement, bringing the woman with him down the staircase, that was as luxurious and cold as the rest of the decoration in that mansion. On her belt, her cell phone began to vibrate incessantly and she begged the Ever-Living Goddess for it to stop, but it only seemed to intensify. She could already see a huge metal door in the distance, at the end of the corridor, but her path was interrupted by the assassin, who turned abruptly and looked at her suspiciously.
"What's that noise?"
A drop of sweat dripped down her back and she said the first thing that came to her mind:
"My vibrator."
He widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows.
"Your vibrator." He repeated, emphasizing the word.
"Yep."
"Why is your vibrator working right now?"
"I guess it's kind of obvious, right?" Medea responded, feigning the confidence she didn't have at the moment to hide her despair.
He opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head and continuing to walk towards the door. The metal doors opened automatically without any noise and he distanced himself from her as quickly as he could, probably disgusted by the vulgar behavior exhibited by her. She muffled a laugh.
The place was a training room. Various equipment for torture and weapons were exposed by space, from the oldest and most obsolete to the newest and deadliest, each one worse than the previous. That family was feared for a reason. She saw an electric chair in the corner of the place and chills ran through her body. There was a black spot marked in the shape of a person, its size was small and seemed to have increased with the passage of time, since the higher parts of it were lighter than the center, which was almost pitch-black. That was used on a child. She looked away, suppressing any reaction that could've shown vulnerability to the real candidates and the rest of the Zoldyck family.
The candidates kept quiet, waiting for the two men standing to start talking. One of them was Mr. Zeno, who, upon seeing her, threw a little smile at his grandson's direction, but he remained impassive as he sat next to an obese boy – this one, on the other hand, seemed to complain about being away from the buffet. The other was an extremely tall man, Medea had never met anyone of that size before, muscular, with long light-blond hair and purple eyes like her own, but visibly more dangerous; he emanated power and authority, like a great lion. That was Alluka and Killua's father. The man stared at her and a smooth wrinkle formed between his eyebrows, he turned to Zeno, who apparently understood the message and made a gesture with his hand. He nodded and waited for the doors to close behind her and for her to position herself next to the others to begin to speak.
"You're here because you accepted the proposal to try to form ties with the Zoldyck family. Some out of greed, some out of fear, some out of power... All of you will be tested to prove that you are worthy of bearing this surname, regardless of why you're here." His voice was serious and clean as a cello note, she couldn't face it as much as they imposed on the girl's shoulders.
On her belt, her phone vibrated again and she bit the inner part of her lower lip, trying to control herself. The man didn't even turn his head towards her, only shooting her a deadly glare and she felt a knot form in her throat. That was bad, very, very bad. She didn't want to be part of that group of insane women before, now she regretted not listening to Kurapika when she could and given up on the mission.
"We have eleven ladies in total," Continued Zeno. "you will be divided into five pairs and will fight each other to show your skills. The best two will be called to talk to the family alone and in the end, it will be up to Illumi to decide who he will choose." So that was his name. Illumi Zoldyck. She tried to repeat the name in a whisper, feeling it rolling down her tongue without difficulty. It sounded good.
Speaking of Illumi, where was he? She couldn't see him in his original place anymore, Did she go out and she didn't even realize it because she was thinking? In front of her, one of the women raised her hand, and the patriarch gestured for her to proceed.
"You said we'll be split into five pairs, how's that going to work if we're eleven...?"
He laughed.
"That's because we have an intruder among us." He responded with serenity.
The air escaped from her lungs. They knew the thief was there. Did they already know it was her? Was that why Zeno chose her? Suddenly, her phone vibrated again and she felt a pair of hands grab her from behind, lifting the skirt of her blue dress. She turned around, aiming a punch at her attacker, who prevented the blow with his own hand and twisted her arm, throwing the girl against the cold floor. Her head began to hurt immediately with the thump, but she continued to put up a fight, trying to sit back and kick Illumi. In turn, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her towards himself.
Positioning his legs on the sides of her thighs, he knelt down and held her neck to keep her trapped beneath his body. Even if she was resisting, it didn't seem to mean much to the assassin, who shoved his free hand under the dress. His cold fingers went straight to the region of her waist and her eyes widened as she understood what Illumi intended, so she kneeled his groin with all the strength she could gather. The killer shot her the deadliest glare he could, but he didn't scream or move, instead pulled the multi-utility belt hard enough to snap it off and lifted it up, smiling victoriously.
His suitors looked at her with apprehension, while the rest of the family remained motionless, watching the scene unfold.
"Vibrator, hm?" He stood up and threw the chakrams to the ground, making a shrill clink echo through the environment. He took the cell phone and threw it on her lap. "Unlock it and deliver it to me."
Medea stood up quietly, looking at him coldly. Since she'd been discovered she had no reason to pretend to be harmless anymore, so she decided to she wanted to see the world burn. Gathering all the courage she had left, Medea spat on the man's face.
"Fuck you." She spoke slowly.
She felt Illumi's deadly aura and smiled with debauchery, raising her chin defiantly to show that she wasn't intimidated. Was it suicidal? Of course, but what could be worse than coming empty-handed to the High Priestess? If she was killed there, at least she'd still have her honor – it was minimal but it'd still be there nonetheless. He took his hand to his right pocket and Medea closed her eyes, waiting for the needles, but a voice reverberated through the training room:
"Illumi, bring the girl here." And that's when she knew that maybe there was something worse than facing the High Priestess.
The purple eyes watched her every step, seemingly wanting to blow her up right there, and she wondered how two such sweet children could have been raised by such a scary man. When Illumi released her arm, Medea looked up and looked at his father with the same intensity as she was being faced. Cold blackberry eyes colliding into fierce violet ones.
"Were you the one who opened the gate earlier?" He asked objectively.
" Yes."
"Were you the one who hurt Canary?"
"Yeah, but only because she wouldn't let me through."
He squinted his eyes. "Take off your mask."
Hesitating slightly, Medea took her hand to the black thread and untied it and her bun, letting her hair fall like a bridal veil around her body. The black mask fell to the ground. Illumi, who was standing next to his father, seemed to sketch a minimal hint of reaction for a few seconds, his black eyes shining behind the mask, before returning to his neutral expression from before. She tried to decipher what was going on in his mind for a few seconds, but did not succeed; he was a locked book even for someone used to reading others with ease like her.
"Who are you and what do you want here?" The man asked.
"My Name is Medea Lanfort and I came for the Tchingsen's Scroll." She ran her fingers through her white hair. " Nothing personal, it's just business, but it's my last job and I need to finish my career with a flourish."
"Did you really think you could just steal from us and walk away?"
She laughed, placing her hand on her lips. "Of course not, I just needed to buy time."
"And are you ready to die now that your time is up?" Some women laughed, accompanied by the brother who was next to where Illumi had previously been, seeming amused by the idea.
Die. Was she ready to die? She thought of her aunt, who said that she wouldn't live past her twelfth. She thought of Araeso, who said she would be incapable of anything other than serving as a courtesan. She thought of Enoull... When it came to them, yes, she could die. However, she remembered Alluka and Killua, who in a short time started to occupy a large space in her heart that only seemed to increase. She remembered Kurapika, who was taking more care of her than most people who had been in her life. Finally, Kite came to her mind. She wanted to apologize before she left, it was the least she could do to be at peace with herself.
She sighed and looked up again.
"I'm not actually ready, but what's a girl to do, right? Life is not as sweet as a strawberry." She answered. "Can I just call my friend first?"
He frowned.
"Excuse me?"
"I'd like to say my last words and so on." Medea unlocked the phone quickly, seeing 25 messages and one missed call. "I promise it'll be real quick." She didn't even have time to dial Kurapika's number, because Illumi ripped the phone out of her hand sharply, moving away with the object before she tried to retrieve it. Zeno stepped forward, watching her with a mischievous smile and crossing his hands behind his back.
"You surprised me positively, young lady." He declared, attracting the eyes of the others in the room. "I already knew it was you from the moment you walked into the ballroom, I know people in your business field like no one else."
"And yet you didn't kick me out or kill me at once. Why?"
"Because if I remember exactly what Silva told me, it was you who hurt my grandson Illumi some time ago, wasn't it?" Medea stared at the dark-haired man, who had stopped reading his messages and sustained her gaze. She felt her mouth become dry and diverted her attention to the patriarch of the family, massaging her temples in the meantime.
"Again, it was just business, and just so you know I still had to go to surgery because of him." She defended herself, touching her nose with a hand. "If anyone here was hurt for real, it was me."
Zeno shook his hands uninterestedly. He was about to say something when a noise rang out, causing everyone to turn around at the same time. The heavy metal doors of the training room opened abruptly, revealing Killua, extremely serious and with a rigid posture, and Alluka, clinging to the bar of her brother's black blouse, marching towards the family. Medea noticed that the atmosphere became heavier than it already was and saw when their mother held her breath, holding her fan tightly. The boy next to her, Kalluto, seemed to want to smile for a moment when he saw the siblings, but held back and looked back at his father.
Killua, as haughty as the rest of the family, confidently approached and placed himself next to Medea, his lips pressed in a thin line. The young woman felt Alluka's hand intertwining with hers, a light and fearful touch, as if she didn't want to do anything very serious that would draw the attention of her family to herself. Silva remained in the same position as he was, looking at them from above.
"If you're here to free the thief, you're wasting your time." He alerted.
"What do you want in exchange for letting her go?" The boy asked bluntly.
The man looked at Alluka from head to toes and she squeezed Medea's hand, shaking a little. She turned to the girl, and pulled her close to herself, confused by the unusual behavior. Alluka was always so cheerful and talkative, to see her like that was troubling.
"If you want to start negotiating, I suggest you lock Alluka in the room already, or you won't even be heard." The girl's tremors intensified and Medea put her behind her own body, shielding her.
"Like hell I will, that's out of the question!" Killua practically growled when he said that.
"Then no deal." Silva faced Medea again. "She dies tonight."
"Go ahead, I don't care." The woman said. "But if you dare lay a finger on Alluka, I-"
"I saw her on the cameras when she got inside." Interrupted Zeno, talking to Killua as if they were drinking afternoon tea. "It would be a waste to murder her, right Silva?" He spoke, clearly warning the son to shut up.
His son frowned and crossed his arms, his jaw clenching in frustration for not being able to go through with his original plan. Medea knew something wasn't right. Why would a family of assassins decide to simply have mercy on a thief? Whatever was going on in the man's head, it was definitely not a good thing, she was sure of that.
"However, I do have a different idea in mind."
I'll talk about Medea's Hatsu in the next chapters, but in the meantime I'd like to know what category of Nen type you think she belongs to. Do you think she's an Enhancer, Transmuter, Emitter, Conjurer, Manipulator or Specialist? I'm curious to see if any of you'll get it right lmao
What will happen to Medea? Let's find out more about her time at the brothel? To find out these and other questions, stay tuned for the next chapters~