Venom and Cure: Blood and Water
Bullet grazed his shoulder as he tried to drop below it last second.
Bandit's Secret open, Nymph Dance struck the conjures now pursuing Lanfen. Teleported closer, gun already fired, Hecate whipped around to target Lanfen. Aura poured into the gun.
Nemmi crashed into Hecate. Talons raked down her face, blood in her eyes before she could shift her Nen to defense. She shot blindly. Metal shredded against Nemmi. Impact without aura-enhancement meant little. Gun clattering on the floor, she held an arm over her face, stumbled back. Conjures charged her instead.
Chrollo gripped his shoulder, blood running freely. Of course. Poison.
Lanfen raised her scripted gun, aura fluctuating to copy. Even exhausted, she managed well enough. Nen-bullet would break Hecate's aura. Divided between multiple conjures, conjuror less skilled with enhancement than a transmuter, Lanfen could do it.
She missed.
"Fuck!" Lanfen booked it the opposite direction as Nemmi's wings beat away fangs. One dog spun to chase her. Chrollo teleported her to his side. A round of Nymph Dance momentarily reduced the pursuing dog to a puddle of ooze.
Hecate clutched her arm, blood dripping down her hand to strike tile. Not quite the direct shot they preferred, but Lanfen hadn't completely missed. Short distance ensured that. She had warned him about being a poor shot outside of static targets; robes hid much of Hecate, old woman frailer than she let on. They only had one poisoned bullet, his dealer recently returned to his kill list. Chrollo just knew if he tried to get that near Hecate with his knife, or raise a gun, she would suspect and desperately dodge.
Everyone underestimated Lanfen.
Blood seeped through his fingers. His shoulder stiffened, fingertips tingling. Blinking failed to clear a growing haze. Lanfen's brows knitted together as she set her hand over his. She pressed on the wound to free his hand to flip the pages of Bandit's Secret.
"Basiliskbane poison." Hecate's fingers digging into her arm, blood seeped. "You'll be face down in a puddle of your blood soon."
"I'm glad to hear that." Directly following Nymph Dance, he found the desired ability, page open to its description. "Having the name is rather useful."
He almost flinched as talons replaced Lanfen's hand. She was much gentler than Nemmi. His hands occupied, Lanfen retrieved the book weighing down his tattered coat: A Compendium of Toxins in the Natural World: Volume Three- Concentrated Mixtures by Name. Circe had the same preference for blended concoctions, always whining about Chrollo's simple tastes. Lanfen opened to the glossary, scanning for the name. Her back to Hecate, she relied on him and Nemmi while she focused.
Hecate's scowl shifted as she tried to move her arm. Fingers dead, unmoving. Dog creeping to grab her gun stopped in place, the other's ears shooting up. No retaliation from them, the dog ran to her side. Obedient and loyal, yet so replaceable without attachment, the perfect minions, she probably thought. Teeth snapped closed over her upper arm. Dog dangling off the floor, blood trailed down her arm the same. Lanfen began flipping pages.
"Circe had a second ability." A bottle materialized in his hand. He had suspected at the compound, but Circe had happily confirmed and traded it for Minji's life later. After all, Nymph Dance had solely excused Circe. "It tends to work better with more complete information. I will admit to not knowing most from reaction and application alone." Less useful in his hands, he supposed, but Lanfen also needn't worry of being poisoned by anything outside of Nen. Lanfen turned to the side, holding the book for him to see. Infuriated recognition flashed in Hecate's eyes. "An old edition, yet I don't see why you would abandon such a useful book while taking useless novels."
Harsh bark and growl, the jab upset. Chrollo remembered the books Haven had spoken of; he had formerly preferred stealing the fiction, no use for information on delicate plants non-native to Meteor City.
"You, however, will eventually be fully paralyzed." Death to then follow shortly. He promised Lanfen as much. "Unless you choose to lose your arm," he added, fangs a poor tourniquet but sufficient enough to stop significant blood flow. It bought her a few minutes.
"Basiliskbane. It's mostly plant-based, so I'm not much help. Here." Lanfen pointed to the passage before perfectly reading scientific names and chemical compounds aloud for him. He repeated after her as the words jumbled on the page, illegible, pressure in his head worsening as he looked down. He began to slur longer words, tongue swelling. Potent, to say the least. The minimal condition was a mental list; he may struggle with even that, soon.
List complete, another pulse of Nen, and the bottle filled. Numb fingers would struggle to remove the lid. He offered it upward. Nemmi pried the cover open as Lanfen unceremoniously dropped the book, noise echoing in sudden silence. As she wrapped an arm around his waist to support him, he realized just how much he was swaying. He downed the bitter liquid.
Bottle vanished. Feral growl, the dog abandoned the gun. Tearing, separating, a second head appeared as the dog split into two then charging. Motion blurred. Couldn't track. He felt drunk, sluggish. Cure was profoundly not instantaneous.
Fangs ripping into the copy-
Lanfen's foot caught his ankle. His back hitting tile caught his breath. She pinned him to the floor as caustic ooze arced over them. Wings flared. Her Nen stood on end to protect against missed splatter. He turned his face, nestling his nose in her hair. He could survive a few chemical burns if some drops so happened to break through his aura. A sweet sentiment, he couldn't reprimand her.
Shattering glass, Hecate escaped. Nails clicking on tile, the dogs followed her out, likely with her gun in teeth.
Lanfen slipped off him to kneel at his side. While every rational part of his body would prefer to stay on the floor and sleep, he held out a hand. Lanfen helped him sit up, fingers inspecting the burn he had received while playing her double. He dismissed Skill Hunter to free his hands.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, fussing over him with hands smoothing out wrinkled fabric, "but I did warn you I've never been good with guns while under pressure." Her attention lingered on his shoulder, too scared to dare touch.
"I thought it went quite well."
His honesty made her roll her eyes. "Your definition of well is obviously warped." Worry melted from her face, flicker of a smile appearing. Poor humor always helped soothe her nerves. "How do you feel?" Bolder, she picked at bloodstained fabric, examining the wound when he failed to flinch. Blood continued to seep without pressure applied. "I'm pretty sure Circe had used something similar back at the compound. I felt like shit."
He set a hand over hers, gently pulling it away. "You had also fought two enhancers." Dubious glare, he smiled slightly. This was nothing in comparison, even with his recent fight with Sybil. Not to mention he had received a cure much sooner. His eyes narrowed with realization. Another transgression to the list, if the same poison, she had nearly died considering the quick escalation in symptoms.
Lanfen sat back. "Nemmi." Grabbing the bottom of her jacket, holding it away from her body-
"No," Chrollo said, Nemmi flickering into view to snip at his hand. Leather ripped, bloodied, and melted, fur trim matted, dirtied, and singed, he struggled to shrug off his battered coat with one working arm. She helped. Reluctantly. "We need a longer piece of fabric if we intend to wrap it around my arm and shoulder."
"But it's your coat."
He spread the fabric across her lap, reverse cross divided with tears, "It's beyond repair, Lanfen."
Another moment of hesitation, fingers tracing shapes, apologetic look in her eyes, she mumbled for Nemmi's help in further dismantling his coat. Bird happily sliced a ribbon of fabric. Lanfen wrapped the wound carefully. The slightest flinch at reapplied pressure renewed her fussing over his state. Her genuine concern over his trifling injuries never failed to be touching.
His exaggerated sigh startled her. "I'm exhausted but seem to be improving." He at least wasn't slurring his words while choking on his own tongue. "We should return to task."
Biting her lip, judging his answer, she eventually nodded. Lanfen stood. Coat bundled in her arms, she refused to abandon it. Again, she helped him up. His head split with pain at the movement. The world then tilted at a very strange angle. He didn't release her hand, instead content to hold it as he sorted out his sense of balance. Nemmi flickered into view again. He perched on broken glass, beak pointed outside. Impatient as ever.
"She couldn't have gotten far," Lanfen muttered, helping Chrollo to the window.
They leaned out under the assumption Hecate hadn't thrown herself from fatal heights without a plan. His stomach lurched at the too-far-below ground. He quickly ducked back inside. Lanfen glanced at him, but he motioned her to continue. Perhaps he had been a bit arrogant to believe he could use Alchemist's Cure and immediately walk away unscathed. Circe had considerably more knowledge; it likely filled in the gaps of the conditions subconsciously.
"There's a ledge that runs along the wall. Can't see where it goes besides around the curve." She waved a hand, Nemmi disappearing, gust signaling its departure. "He'll track her down." She turned to scrutinize him instead. The wind-worn, narrow ledge would require more balance than he currently possessed. "Should we backtrack?"
He dropped her hand, admitting defeat and draping an arm over her shoulders to lean into her. She happily obliged with a hand resting on his back. "I'm not familiar with the escape routes built into the tower." Well, he knew a few from sneaking about in his younger years but infiltrating the inner Council Chambers came with a death sentence. He had managed to resist long enough to lose interest. "We would be better off using a familiar path." Yet, if a ledge would prove troublesome, stairs were a similar scourge minus suddenly dizzying heights.
They began walking. His foot caught on nothing, stumble not a fall as he clung to Lanfen. She stared up at him, brows furrowed.
"Is this how you are drunk?"
"Much worse, I'm afraid." All grace fled with inhibition. Warmth in the hand on his back, in her side pressed to his own, in loving eyes, the poison running through his veins, gunshot wound weeping blood, chemical burns seared into skin, it all felt distant, insignificant, when compared to her warmth. Pause stolen at the top of the stairs, his lips pressed to her cheek. "I've been told I also become hopelessly clingy and nonsensically talkative."
Crooked smile with a shy upward glance, his absolute favorite. Worth every imaginable consequence. He should have accepted it sooner to spare her suffering from his deluded indecision.
"I love you."
"I-" She tripped on her response, eyes flickering from his face to the floor and back, flustered smile on her lips. Statement never failed to lose its charm, with her. "I love you, too, Chrollo." Nor him, it seemed, her smile contagious. He wouldn't blame delirium, this time. "You, um, choose very odd times for sincerity."
Dark stairwell bathed in the burnt reds of torchlight, electricity dead with explosions reverberating in stone walls, gunfire a near background drone with its consistency, blood drying to his arm, her right hand gingerly brushing the wall for balance as he stumbled along, perhaps not the most romantic setting for confessions.
"Let's finish this, then."
Hecate.
Two dogs with her. A smaller division clamped its fangs over her arm, her fingers purple from lack of blood. Her other hand's fingers knotted into short fur, the larger conjure helping drag her through the garden space. Regardless of the teeth snapped above a fresh wound and the assistance walking, Haven could tell. She wasn't moving right.
Chrollo had hit her with the paralytic he favored.
Ears swiveled, teeth snarling.
Hecate's attention whipped to Haven. Gouges carved in her face dripped blood down her chin. In the moment Haven pulled the knife stashed in their bloodstained sweater, Hecate retrieved a gun from her spattered robes. Footsteps behind ignored. No moment for a stand-off, her back straightened, dog freed. Hecate leveled the gun with their head. Haven charged hoping the fleas shielded them enough to survive a gunshot.
Wide eyes. Trigger half-squeezed. Haven crashed into Hecate, short knife buried in her stomach. Odd shape wanted to catch. Not meant for poison, but one of the collection, Haven ripped the blade free before stabbing her again anyway.
"You lied!" They stabbed again, words never their favorite. They wanted the mafia dead. Not in Meteor City shredding apart everything they had again. Haven felt so fucking used. They had caused another bloodbath just like the one that had broken Liang. All because Hecate. Because Chrollo. "Lied!" Off-hand struggled to stab, twist, and repeat alone through the slick blood coating. Both hands on the handle, but their grip failed. They had wanted to punish Chrollo. Not torment Meteor City by inviting a war.
Hecate dropped her gun. The knife slipped from flesh as she stumbled back a step. Clutching her hand over fatal wounds, yet her attention wasn't theirs.
Her eyes were transfixed on Roeis another painful passing moment.
Strangled scream, air knocked from already struggling lungs, Haven was shoved to the ground. Knife flew from weak fingers. Paws dug into their chest to crush. Teeth hooked into their already mauled arm. Fangs. Sideways snap. Their arm landed a short distance away. It hurt. Blood stained mouth of the larger dog opened for their face. Vision speckling with spots, and their detached arm still hurt. They raised their other over their face as fangs-
Deafening.
An explosion point-blank. A wave of liquid rained down, flea layer melting. Searing as it hit skin, Haven rolled to the side, curled into a ball. Ringing with pain, dizzy, but a green glow had slammed into the dog. Absolutely destroyed it. Had to be him.
Vision trying to swim as they forced their eyes open, the dog never rematerialized from caustic ooze. The other vanished. Hecate was an unmoving heap of scorched fabric.
Shaking hand, they tried to cover their wounded shoulder. Blood seeped through numb fingers. They'd die. Join Hecate face down in the dirt. Fleas regathered over them. Not yet. Head swimming, every twitch shooting pain, fleas swarming in a final shove, Haven managed to sit up. Blurred, but unmistakable. Chrollo stood at a short distance, the Paijin woman at his side.
Not yet. Not with Chrollo looking down on them.
Haven stubbornly fought. Hatred overpowered pain in yellow eyes as they forced themselves to stand on shaking legs. Arm severed by one of Hecate's dogs, blood ran freely. It would be a fatal wound without intervention. Lanfen at his side, clutching her right arm to her chest, she understood. The fleas swarming over Haven were the retaliation of the dying, all desperation and fury. A renewed vow and condition would-
Gunfire.
Haven shrieked, fell to the ground as the fleas scattered. They tried to stand again, blood loss dizzying, but the glancing bullet wound to their calf kept them on the ground.
"What are you doing?" Lanfen shouted, leaving Chrollo's side. Haven tried to send a wall of fleas at her. Concentration impossible, the formation broke apart quickly.
Roeis dropped the gun, hands raised as she approached. "If they keep fighting, they'll die!"
Chrollo left Lanfen to deal with him however she pleased.
Writhing on the ground, Haven didn't notice his approach until he was kneeled at their side. They screamed at him, scratched at his hand when he took over applying pressure to the open wound. "Machi will be here shortly," he said, Haven's yells tapering. Skin blistering with chemical burns, wide golden eyes narrowed, nails biting into his wrist. Blood seeped between his fingers to wet the ground. Still, they clawed. Visceral hatred…
You did this! Liang hated the spider, but she could never hate him. Them. She never wanted this! He, not fate, had forced her hand. He had betrayed her love. He had killed her long before Silva.
And is that resentment justified?
"It was my fault."
Fingers stilled, nails imbedded in skin.
To possess always meant to take.
Artifacts and treasures, things collectively deemed valuable, to have them meant something. Something shallow. Unfulfilling. Empty. Stealing abilities meant more. He could possess an irreplaceable piece of an individual, claim it as himself. But a collection of shattered pieces wasn't enough. He wanted more. To possess an individual, devotion his alone, the Spider unquestioningly provided.
He wished to keep them as his. As him.
Her refusal to join was a refusal to be his in that limited understanding. Yet, he did not wish to free her from his grasp; she was too dear to him. All he knew was to take.
"Liang's death, it was my fault."
"It's too late for that," Haven yelled, nails dragging down his cheek without blood drawn. Their arm fell limp at their side as tears gathered. "I hate you," whispered in loathing as tears finally slid down their cheeks, Chrollo agreed. This revelation came much too late to save Liang. It only helped another with Haven's hatred.
"Why?" Haven snapped before turning their face away. Staring off to the side, "Why her?" they whispered, not understanding. Watering eyes narrowing, they focused on Lanfen Paijin. Her surname the cruel humor of fate, "Why couldn't you change for Liang?"
Because he was nothing without the Spider.
He had never considered himself as an individual with desires of his own. To have meant to take. Love in all definitions, why would that be any different? The things he loved were to be stolen and kept near as mere objects. Change had never been an option for him, a void entity.
Time. It took time for him to slowly accept that the Spider consisted of individuals that didn't substitute as his whole. Liang in her resentment rejected his creation, his collective, yet never him. Pakunoda denied his null value, others following the sentiment. Her sacrifice questioned their collective will being his own without fail. And Lanfen…
She was such a personal desire he could never justify it the way he had in the past. No matter how he tried, he couldn't possess her. Not without killing what he loved once more.
"I have to die for my Nen to stop." Paled with blood loss, Haven tried and failed to raise their hand. Fleas stood idle with the loss of control. The threat fell hollow. "Kill me, or it'll just keep spreading. There'll be so many you won't escape forever," they hissed, voice now refusing to scream. Thousands of the pests concentrated here, the rest froze because dozens had already covered everyone present. Those waiting would replace those crushed. What seemed to target mafia, Haven probably made sure to leave a loophole to target the Phantom Troupe.
"And if I take your ability?"
Glare flickering, yellow eyes widening betrayed.
"You're smarter than to simply set a condition as your death." He had initiated them, after all. For as young as they were, Haven had caught on exceptionally well, hanging onto his every explanation. Liang was the only reason they hadn't immediately joined the Spider. "I assume it's something vague like you no longer have the ability or the will." The break in concentration with their severe injury, ability meant capability more so than the technique itself. They had assumed two outcomes: death and confrontation. They never meant the ability to run wild as a potential curse. "This was for my attention, after all."
"I wanted the mafia gone," Haven snapped, face scrunching when they could only lash out with words. Deny as much as they wished, retribution against him had always been a part of the plan. "Kill me." Silence at an order, Haven's frustration grew. "You ignored me for years! You didn't care I ran off after Liang- Don't pretend like you care. Not about anything besides yourself."
A requiem, an apology, "I thought, perhaps, I should try to honor one of her requests."
Lanfen left Chrollo to deal with Haven. While confused by what seemed to be him comforting the kid responsible for much of the chaos, Chrollo…
He had taken responsibility for Liang's death. When she had asked him before, he had denied any role while his expression had been steeped in guilt. That clash in words and thoughts, he reconciled with himself instead of shoving the discomfort to the back of his mind to fester. An important step for him, but this was far from the time to discuss it.
Metal crunched as Nemmi's talons crushed the gun. Roeis stumbled back a step as Nemmi left In, screeching his direction with feathers fluffed and wings flapping.
"You had that the entire time?" Count her shocked. Not once had he reached for the only weapon he apparently had on him, his words rather useless in comparison. "You're lucky they never cared to search you," she said, glancing beyond Roeis as familiar silhouettes appeared. Had he tried to shoot them at any point, he would have been dead without firing. Had they noticed he withheld mentioning the weapon, also dead.
Nemmi snickered, Lan rolling her eyes. So what if she resented the fact he was a better shot? Because he was. He had been aiming low and shallow, as merciful as ever.
Roeis remained quietly shaken, Nemmi tossing the twisted metal at his feet earning another half-stumble back.
Nemmi watched him as she approached the still pile of twisted, shredded robes. Face down in blood-soaked earth, difficult to tell what killed her. Not a gunshot, probably. Not from Roeis, and certainly not the glancing hit from her. They had meant to paralyze her before executing her in front of the remains of her allies. She was supposed to be an example to those that would be retaining their council positions despite participating in her power-grab.
Roeis even knew that plan. Not everything spoken could be said in Anchian without Nobunaga whining of being left out of the conversation. By default, harmless Roeis also got to hear.
Blood reek somehow overpowered the ever-present stench of trash with the unpleasant addition of smoke. Bundled in her arms, she buried her nose in the fur trim of Chrollo's coat. Rot and sea still clung. She looked away, inspecting the corpse unnecessary. And needlessly dangerous. A glance with Gyo, ink black tendrils reached to disperse and kill in retribution.
Another of Fanghe's puppets dead, that's all that mattered.
Nemmi hopped to her side, metallic gleam in his beak. He deposited a bloodied knife at her feet. Intricate, impractical shape, it reminded her of Chrollo's but without the grooves to hold poison. Nemmi pointed where he found it, severed arm making her stomach flip. Then he skipped off to mangle Hecate's gun.
Her attention returned to Roeis. "What happened?"
"No idea," Roeis said, swallowing nerves to tear his eyes away from Nemmi to look at her. "Hecate had been about to shoot Haven point-blank, but I think…" He shook his head, eyes darting to the corpse and away. "She took one look at me and just… froze. Then Haven started stabbing her." Off-hand motion to the knife at her feet, she had seen the dog rip off their arm. "They… Haven didn't want a war with the mafia. She'd used them."
So? Haven had then used the opportunity to target Chrollo, and, as always, her by default. They were facing the consequences of their decision. Unless Roeis couldn't comprehend the anger it'd take to stab someone a couple dozen times. He truly had no business plotting revenge if that were the case.
Nemmi returned to her shoulder.
Converging on the scene, Machi and Kalluto were a few steps ahead of Phinks, Nobunaga, and Feitan. Phinks and Feitan loudly argued over second place, Nobunaga's smug look egging them on. Machi shot a look at Roeis as she passed. On her way, Machi plucked the severed arm off the ground without reaction, Lan's stomach turning again as she held her right arm to her chest. Kalluto stood off to the side as Machi shooed Chrollo away with the threat of a ridiculous fee for making her fix a severed limb and animal bites. Not in a good mood at all. Haven continued to yell for everyone to leave them to die.
"How'd you lose them?"
"While they dealt with the guards, I followed Haven after they bolted." Roeis also trained his attention away from the impromptu surgery. Especially as Haven's voice warped to screams, dozens of complicated stitches necessary. Maybe it was a good thing she had blacked out before her limb reattachment. Even without pain, she would have inconsolably screamed and cried. "The fleas ended up leading us through hidden passages from near the top of the tower all the way here. Pitch black most of the way."
Lan hummed, losing interest. Chrollo had agreed the passages weren't the best option in a time sensitive moment.
Conversation lapsed, but it was far from silent. Beyond Haven's screeches, gunfire, explosions, and helicopters continued under a firelit sky. Hecate may be dead, but the consequences of her scheme lived. Even if both sides acknowledged her death and role, it would be some time before the fighting simmered down. They'd be here for a while.
Footsteps, Nemmi's soft chirp revealed who. His talons left her shoulder as a hand unknowingly chased him from his perch. Hand set gently on her shoulder coaxed her to turn. Her attention lingered on his shoulder; blood dried on his shirt, shredded fabric of his coat helping stop the bleeding. Chrollo lead her a few steps aside for some thin semblance of privacy. Language shift did more.
"You did well," he repeated, assuring her that despite her shit aim, she helped as he had wanted. His hand on her shoulder, standing less than an arm's length from her, he remained clingy. He almost scared her earlier, deliriously saying whatever came to mind while extra affectionate, but it took a moment for her to remember being shot and poisoned while causing grand-scale chaos was rather normal for him. It was the realization he existed as an individual that threw him.
"Once things are a bit more settled…" How to word it? She just wanted to make sure he wouldn't implode before working through everything the last few days had stirred up. Or shove it back under a rug, progress be damned.
His hand left her shoulder, fingers lingering on her chin after directing her attention back to his face. A few scrapes, blood smeared, she hesitantly reached to rub some away. Grey eyes slipped closed briefly as he leaned into the touch. "I suspect we both have a few things to say. We'll speak later, Lanfen. I promise." Word given, she nodded, dropped her hand. His coat draped over her arm felt heavy. His glance around, eyes landing on Hecate, he asked, "Did you learn what happened?"
"Oh, Haven stabbed Hecate a few dozen times is all." Brows furrowed, the stabbing made way more sense than how they had managed to get that close. "Somehow she found Roeis," mister-plain-as-can-be, "distracting." Seriously. The presence of a fly. Chrollo's raised brow agreed with her.
He scrutinized Roeis before some soft form of realization made him lose interest.
Chrollo walked towards Hecate's corpse, Lanfen a step behind. Blanks seemed filled in, and she was ready to move far beyond anything related to Fanghe. That said, the pitch black of her Nen curse had faded over the last few minutes to finally kill the burning ice crawling under her skin.
Casually flipping the corpse with his foot, Chrollo was unfazed while Lan's nose scrunched. "A few dozen was a bad estimate," she mumbled, almost impressed. Kid had done some major damage despite their arm being, as Machi complained behind them, an infected disaster they should just amputate. Honestly, it looked like Arri had shredded Hecate's abdomen open with all the slash work- matched Nemmi's work on her face. Robe probably disguised the full extent, too. Haven really held a grudge over the mafia…
Feitan said they were dramatic. Maybe the whole revenge scheme was just a side point to their actual goal.
Chrollo had since crouched to search for intact pockets in a sea of fabric. Her leaning over, watching, asked her question.
He pulled free a brooch, tarnished silver dull compared to the burning red gem at the center. "The Council members each have one," Chrollo said, dropping it into her hand. "The gem is from the stain-glass in the main chamber." He returned to searching pockets, absently adding, "Once the city is united and the mafia loses ground, we will relinquish it. I estimate a week, if we enthusiastically assist."
Another point of the clean-up plan, Chrollo had called for more Troupe members to assist. Not just a hyperbolic rumor, the Troupe may actually account for a considerable chunk of Meteor City's power.
Crumpled, blood-soaked corners, Chrollo found a stack of papers in another pocket. She crouched to read. Folded, each addressed to Hecate in the same messy script, they were letters. Chrollo unfolded each to reveal short messages, maybe three paragraphs each.
"Would you take a few photos, Lanfen?"
She shrugged, fishing out her phone, not understanding why he didn't just shove them into his pocket. Signature difficult to read, but Delphi legible enough, she assumed they were just the letters from Hecate's brother that Haven had mentioned.
She desperately ignored the text notification to take the pictures.
"In the past, I used to steal from their house. I believe most of the books I took were his." Chrollo refolded all but one letter, leaving it open on top of the pile as he stood. Slight sway as he straightened his back, her fingers picked at his coat. He'd never even used Alchemist's Cure until today. As he had slurred words, color drained from his face, she had been near convinced it hadn't worked. He gave a flicker of a placating smile at her reignited worry. "He disappeared around the same time Circe and Sybil joined the Fan Shi."
Lan scoffed.
Woman had thrown her kids to the wolf, but apparently couldn't let her brother go. Bonds in Meteor City, unconventional, so weak and strong at the same time, she didn't understand. Probably never would.
Tying up lose ends, Chrollo approached Roeis, Lan choosing to remain. Fear crept into Roeis' expression. Then confusion as Chrollo offered the letters to him. Blood would show they were picked from the corpse, their bodies formerly blocking his view. It took a moment, but Chrollo's natural authority and terrifying presence eventually threatened Roeis into silently accepting. Couldn't have been a change in Chrollo's expression, after all. As soon as the letters were passed, Bandit's Secret materialized.
Chrollo glanced over his shoulder, asking one final time to confirm.
Staring Roeis down, she sighed. Fine. "I think he understands we'll make his life a living hell if he talks." Nemmi flickered from In to scream in Roeis' face as an added warning. He'd be easy to kill, need be. But this was her being merciful towards her fellow Hunter. Probably needed to start doing that to keep from damaging her career further.
In that short time, Roeis found the courage to glance at the letters. He somehow looked more mortified by the content than Chrollo beginning to fulfill conditions.
Lanfen listened half-heartedly, distracted. Corpse at her feet, she stared, unsure. With the residual dread of Fanghe's Nen absent and the bite of Hecate's faded, she just didn't know. The Fan Shi base had been such a blur. Arm stitched together, life a gigantic joke, she had never felt so defeated. Right now, she wouldn't say she felt much better. Different, yes, but she still felt no victory.
No, she felt exhausted.
She desperately wanted this to be the final severed thread in the web to unravel it all. Fate or chance or will, she just wanted Fanghe to stay dead and stop haunting her every waking moment.
Nemmi returned to her shoulder, huddling close with a soft crow. She petted his head before pacing away from the chaos. Roeis reluctantly divulged the specifics of his Hatsu, Chrollo listening with severe focus. Haven had passed out, Machi quietly at work as Kalluto watched. The other three refused to shut up even if they must be a nuisance to everyone else's concentration. Background of gunfire and explosions lost its novelty to became a low drone.
Lan sat on the ground, coat clutched to her chest, before daring to look at her phone. A familiar number suddenly unblocked, playing cards mocking, a promise under duress-
Until death, Lanfen.
Three words. Three words to drain the blood from her face, pit forming in her stomach as numbness ebbed. Always. Anger, loathing, sadness, dread, anticipation, he always defied expectation in the worst way.
His promise remained a threat. A stubborn refusal to let go. A mockery of her. Yet, in using her name, no insult, no endearment, no abbreviation, her full first name, he acknowledged her.
A/N: HeavenlyCondemned- Editing can bore the hell out of me, I needed a little extra motivation to get that done instead of my list more interesting distractions. Hope you enjoy the final chapters!
