Stress.

Briannaisa lived and breathed it for the past few months as she balanced her responsibilities as head of the Tao Long's Conventional Security Forces of York New City and keep James safe until the Hunter Exam. It had been a pain catching up to all the work she was behind with. Fixing security issues, updating security protocols, screening and selecting new security personnel.

Security, security, security.

She thought being one of Gyro's bodyguards was hard, but guarding an entire city trumps that any day of the week.

Over four-hundred personnel were combat capable in the city. Hardened professionals with backgrounds in various military organizations. Roughly two hundred more were trained to fight, but inadequately experienced. They were only used when supremely desperate.

In total, six hundred out of about a thousand members of the Tao Long in York New City were capable of being called into a fight. Ten times the amount if associates and affiliated criminals were counted. It seemed large, but in the strange world they lived in that was nothing.

Contrary to appearances, the Tao Long were small. Extremely so. The Kakin Empire's Mafia held almost twenty times the official members. Some other Mafias ran the governments and the underworld of their respective countries.

The Tao Long had gotten by with strategic use of forces, a reliance on Nen abilities, and a terrifying reputation.

Unfortunately, she didn't care how strategic or how powerful the individual members of the Tao Long were. It wasn't an assurance that everything would go smoothly. It was always nerve-racking coordinating the security for these large events. Particularly with the dramatically different personalities of each of the leaders of the Tao Long.

Darsten. Zelle. Vasili. Victor. Evira.

The five of them controlled the entire underground of the United States of Sarherta and much of Eastern Yorbia where the Five Families had fled to. The scattered remnants of a criminal organization, on token lands that offered little in the way of power... but too much time to lick their wounds and plan their revenge. They could be the ones causing the trouble lately.

The only thing standing in the way of the Five Families trying to reclaim territory in the east was the mad dogs, Victor and Vasili. They created a buffer zone of terror that, fortunately (or unfortunately), protected the rest of the country from the exiled Mafia and prevented full-on war.

A dagger to their enemies' throats.

With Mayer, it had become overkill. The other Dons had seen the writing on the wall and decided to throw their hats in with the new kids. Yet, nothing was stopping the other Don's from stepping in again if they saw the Tao Long as weak. That exact thought ran through Briannaisa's mind...

The problem was... who?

As she stood in her temporary' room in one of the penthouse rooms of Eviras tower, she looked out her window. She always liked the name: the Dragon Head. It wasn't the biggest building in the city, but there was plenty to view out of the twentieth floor of the condo.

The passing cars and twinkling lights of the city night were captivating to see. Countless cars becoming strobe lights far below her. The sky dotted by flashing helicopters and glowing planes coming in and out of the nearby airport. The bright signs illuminating the skyline like ornaments to the gods.

It was quite a sight to behold.

It was didn't relieve her stress though. It was Thursday. The Underbosses would arrive Friday. The meeting was on Saturday. They would be gone on Sunday.

She had picked up a new habit. What James was so prone to do when stress: rub his face.

Binolt had been a nightmare. He was never the strongest, but he was always a cunning and dangerous opponent. Hard to pin down and even harder to find. He had caused a blow to the Tao Long's reputation. Weakened it ever slightly to the other gangs in servitude to the Tao Long.

She chewed out Mercutio for sending rookie like James, a crazy person, and a bunch of failed Hunter Exam candidates after a full-fledged Hunter. A Class-B bounty at that.

Mercutio took it as he always: with sheer indifference.

The caches and hideouts of Spice littered throughout the city were terrifying. Mercutio said Red Squad had said they found all of them. Twenty-six places in all. Some of them even in the middle of being assembled as quasi-gas bombs, though most of it was being packaged and prepared to be sold.

Evira was not pleased.

Briannaisa frowned. The evidence pointed to the planners being from the Yobrian continent. Twenty-six sites. One for each of the Lingua franca of Yorbia. Not the common language used by most of the world's population, International Common Language.

Or as James called it, "Weird, Unown, Pokemon language."

Briannaisa smiled absent-mindedly at the memory. She did not understand what strange world he came from, but it sounded stupid. Why and how would regular, unpowered humans capture dangerous beasts and monsters, then force them to fight for sport? She shook her head of the strange idea brought to her by James and focused.

Briannaisa thanked whatever luck Mercutio and his squad found everything. It was already a pain to deal with the amount they confiscated. She couldn't imagine if they actually used it.

Even a little gave a person such an intense high and urge to try it again. It was incredibly hard to ween person off of it after even one hit, the more the initial hit the harder... yet it was doable. After several more, it became all but impossible. A person would be little more than a zombie craving for more.

She petted one of several cats that happened to live in her spare room. A large white cat named Lady. The cat's breed would be called a Persian in a universe far away. She purred under Brinnaisa's petting, white hairs getting on her black maid uniform.

She didn't care. She loved her cats.

They were one of the few things that helped her relax.

As exhaustion came back her mind wandered. The animals were taken care of by Claudette's employees, or the actual maids and butlers. She smiled at the frivolity of using her sister's employees to take care of cats.

But what use was money and authority if she couldn't use it as she wished?

The sound of her landline phone intruded her idyllic rest, shattering her short-lived happiness. Her smile turned into a frown She took a deep breath, composed herself, and reluctantly broke away from Lady. The cat purred and hopped off her lap to do what cats do best: whatever they want.

Briannaisa crossed the white carpet to the phone on a nearby coffee table. She picked it up and answered with a hello. The caller did not reply with their own greetings, as she hoped.

"The Rohan Brothers arrived early," said the monotone and fear-laced voice of her security officer.

Dread hit her. She hung up and dialed another number as fast as she could muster. They answered.

"What?" said the sleepy, tired voice of Mercutio.

"The Rohan brothers are at it again."

"Meet me at the bar," Mercutio said firmly. His voice was full of energy. The phone cut out.

Briannaisa took a deep breath and dialed another number.

"'Yeah?" answered Knuckle.


Underneath the bar called the Red room sat seven people at the oval-shaped desk. The Red Squad and Briannaisa took their rightful seats at the table. Their two guests stood on the long side of the table.

They all stared at Briannaisa. All of them shared different emotions. Cabo, AKA Marlin, sat furthest away to the left. He wore a large toothy grin on his face. Sparrow sat directly across from him and was calm and indifferent.

Next was Camber, or as Briannaisa knew her, Scorpion. The only thing that revealed any emotion, underneath her part-part racer part bi-plane pilot outfit, was her was the confident smirk.

Across from her was old man York, who wore a consternated expression that contrasted by his genial, grandfatherly sweater, and appearance. Made all the worse by his wrinkled squint and frowning mustache.

Mantis sat directly between Marlin and Camber. Her silver costume making it difficult, if impossible, for anyone to tell what she was thinking. But every so often she would tremble...

On the other head of the table was Mercutio. His eyes focused and sharp. His face showing no exhaustion or laziness. To everyone in the room, it was as if the situation and flipped a switch inside him.

Hovering over Briannaisa's shoulders were Knuckle and Shoot. Both of whom held supremely annoyed faces. Knuckle took the next step and voiced it.

"Why'd you call us all here anyway? What's so important that'd you need to call us two and Mercutio's crew?"

Briannaisa frowned and turned to over her right shoulder to Knuckle, before turning back to Mercutio. The leader of Red Squad nodded and explained, his baritone voice laced with barely kept rage.

"You left before Evira arrived in the city. When the old Mafia was still in town. In fact, I bet you weren't even in the country..."

Knuckle crossed his arms and sneered, "Yeah? So what? Mad that I didn't stay and duke it out against you guys with my old crew? I ain't apologizing for setting out as a Hunter..."

"No. I don't hold it against you leaving this godforsaken city. I'm surprised you stayed after you punched out that cop..." he closed his eyes and chuckled, "you're as hopeless as you are back then."

"Tch. Whatever. What are you getting at? The city looks the same as always. The only thing that's changed is ownership..."

Mercutio opened his eyes and shook his head, "Evira has invested a lot of money into getting things back to normal after the war with the Five Families. That was mostly the Rohan brothers doing..."

Knuckle narrowed his eyes, "You mean the Lords of Lost Angels?"

Shoot frowned, "Those two have A-class bounties… Are you saying they're here in the city?"

Sparrow chuckled nervously and answered, "Yeah... they're two of the underbosses of the Tao Long."

Marlin frowned, baring his teeth "Hnn... They're responsible for most of the Tao Long's bad reputation."

York chuckled, "Other than being, ya' know, criminals?"

Knuckle blinked, "Wait, what? Why doesn't the Hunter Association not know this?"

Shoot turned his head to his comrade, "Being associated with those two would bring the Association down on the Mafia."

Briannaisa nodded, "Yes... we hide any and all information about us. The biggest secret is who are the leaders of the Tao Long are. The only well-known member to the public is the 'boss', Mayer. Everyone else's membership is kept hidden and closely guarded. Especially those two."

Shoot nodded, "I see. Those two have been a problem to the Hunter Association for some time. The association always thought they ran their own criminal organization..."

Knuckle nodded, "Yeah... and they've killed a lot of Blacklist Hunters over the years..." his fisted clenched tightly, "...They're an example of why the Hunter Association keeps a close eye on Nen users. And who their Masters are..."

Shoot's narrowed his and he nodded his head, "They are exceedingly dangerous. I can see why you asked for our help."

He clenched his fist. As if sensing it, Briannaisa replied.

"Yeah... they're as talented as James and his friends... without none of the humanity."

York scoffed, "The worst of those two is Victor... we're gonna have a big commotion as always..."


An enormous man walked through the dark streets of York New City. He towered the world over two-hundred and thirteen centimeters. A seven-foot monstrosity that everyone in York New City stood clear of. A black, loosely fit blazer over a white long-sleeve shirt and a silver chain around his neck emblazoned with a large 'R'. Black, baggy dress pants and black boots that crunched the pavement of the dilapidated neighborhood.

He turned to face the drinking establishment. A large, mad grin spread across the large-jawed man. Short blonde hair cut tight to his head showed off the neck muscles that seemed more at home on a gorilla or a bull. A massive, inhumanly muscled hand-rubbed an equally muscular face that showed he could bite through concrete without issue.

"Bones bar, aye? I'm fancying a quick drink..."

He walked forward. The yellow lights from the window and red lights from the bar sign mixed to bathe the man in red and orange, revealing the monster of a man exiting the darkness. A row of large motorcycles stood between him and the angle at which he was approaching the door.

That was to say: from the right and completely wrong approach.

As if he lived in a different version of reality, he walked directly at the motorcycles. Not stopping or hesitating in the least. Plodding forward with lurching, heavy steps. A freight train with no breaks.

The moment the vehicles touched his body, they flowed around him like liquid. His body was not hindered by the machines as he lumbered forward with every step. Disproportionally sized muscles passing through metal, rubber, and leather. The sound of clanging metal echoed out with a crash as bikes separated from themselves, cut precisely and exactly; like the world's sharpest blades cut them.

A handlebar here. A tire there. A seat split in two.

It only took a few seconds for him to walk through the motorcycles like a ghost. In those few seconds, the three machines were torn apart.

A commotion came from inside the bar as a crowd exited the double doors to see what all the noise was. Some curious, yet cautious people stood at the entrance of the door. The bar doors stayed open. As a result, dozens of people looked outside at their approaching nightmare.

They found a smiling, nearly bald man with wide, manic blue eyes. His black pupils as wide as dimes. Staring past them as if they didn't exist, straight into the bar. Three were drinking next to the owner, staring in confusion. Yellow, blue, and red.

Victor smiled at the glasses of liquor in their hands.

He smacked his lips at the taste of alcohol.

He walked towards the crowd of people.

Their screams were deafening.

Stocks and the Amori brothers stared in horror at the people falling apart. Patrons put to pieces.

The throng of people's eyes wide and mouths twisted in terror and pain.

Victor Rohan stopped halfway in the bar and turned around. He looked at the corpses. Barely. His mad eyes wide and mouth twisted with delight.

"Apologies. Sometimes I forget people exist. To think I got this lovely place dirty..."


York continued, "That bastard loves violence and chaos. To him, crimes' just a game. Everything else is just icing..."

Mantis' trembled harder. Her hands clutched the edge of the table. She looked down at the table. It didn't take much to understand she was closing her eyes, even with full costume on.

Cabo stared sadly at her. Sparrow frowned.

Knuckle furrowed his eyes and nodded at Mantis, "What's wrong with her?"

Mercutio sighed, "Mantis used to be DJ. She was playing a club when the Rohan brothers visited..."

Knuckle and Shoot frowned. Briannaisa looked down and closed her eyes. She remembered that day.

Mantis' voice was a mere whisper, "The big one... he walked onto the dance floor. No... he walked through people and they just fell apart. Arms. Legs. Torsos. Heads. He thrashed around... it ripped apart people..."

Cabo snarled, his sharp teeth clenched tightly. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"When we got there... over a hundred people were dead. Victor decided he liked her music. So he baptized her..."

Knuckle and Shoot stared at the two in horror. Knuckle spoke, his voice laced with fury.

"A h-hundred people? Are you serious?! How come I'm only hearing this now?!"

Shoot nodded, "Something that big should have caught the attention of the Hunter Association. At the very least the police."

Briannaisa answered, eyes firmly shut, "We covered it up. The Divinity Night Club fire. We burned down the place, paid off the cops and officials. Blamed it on building not being up to code..."

She looked up and opened her eyes. Hard and determined.

"If it was just Victor it'd be manageable if difficult to handle. But Vasili is here too."

Scorpion frowned, placing a hand over the other in front of her, "He isn't as visibly monstrous as his younger twin, but still..."

Mercutio frowned under the shadow of his hat.

"He's up to something..."


The criminals stood there in a circle. They congregated around a fiery barrel stationed under a dead overpass. Dirt, concrete, rebar, and construction material littered the area. Ready to be assembled and put together.

The leaders of the various gangs that made up the city stared daggers at one another. The area the gangsters were inhabiting was an arid, gravelly, abandoned thing. Little more than a pit with concrete over and around it. Construction machinery decorated the nascent piece of highway in the middle of the desert.

They were each contacted directly on their personal phones.

That should have been impossible.

When they answered and listened to the person, they knew it was possible.

The man who spoke to was smooth, charming, and well-spoken. In complete control and with complete confidence. He sounded Sarhertian, though it sounded... strange. An accent around the edges. His words were melodious and pampering. Delightful and soft. A lover who promised them the world.

More power. More money. More territory.

More. More. More.

He said everything correctly. Every word arrived like with confidence.

"Yes, yes. Your rivals will be taken care of..."

"Check your bank account. You'll see that I've already given you a large gift. More if you meet..."

"The Tao Long will be gone by the end of the year, and you will be back to your rightful place."

It all sounded too good to be true. Yet sounded so right when it came from that voice.

Even then, it sounded too good to be true.

They came with insurance.

Each crime boss came with several guards. All of them heavily armed. Some of them even had the barest ability in Nen, if untrained. In the flickering lights of the metal trash that lit the overpass, each of the leaders was ready.

Promises were nice and all, but they heard so many that it meant nothing. Lead led through lies. Often through a bloody hole.

They did not have to wait long for the man to arrive at the designated time. The mysterious voice appeared from the shadows.

He wore a black tuxedo, black hair, black glasses, and a black goatee. Black dress shoes and a pair of black gloves waved them a two-handed greeting. Wide, friendly, and courteous. It was if he melted from the shadows and into the dim light.

"Welcome, welcome! I'm sorry you all had to wait in these terrible accommodations, but it was the only place I could find that was in the dead zone of the Tao Long's surveillance zone. Who would keep an eye under a highway? Heh, the smartest people are quite dumb at times, especially those who are unworthy. Which the Tao Long have become..."

Several gangsters chuckled. The older, experienced gangsters stayed silent. Their glares saying everything about what they thought about the stranger.

A fat man in a white business suit and a giant fur coat sneered. Standing to his right was a taller, large, bald military man in black military fatigues. His glare was judgemental and analyzing. As it should be. He was being paid to be cautious, not trusting.

"Enough. My boss is a busy man and has things to do. Get to the point."

The man in the tuxedo turned and pointed a finger at the man. An enormous smile on his face.

"Ah, I understand my good friend! But, and forgive me if I come across as rude... but is your boss not in charge?" the man's face became a dismissive smile, "Is he a child that needs to be spoken for?"

The man tilted his head down, his shades directly pointing to the portly boss, "Mr. Hert... why do you let this man speak for you?"

The man called Mr. Hert frowned... then looked sideways at his bodyguard. Doubts filled his eyes as he narrowed them. The bodyguard strode forward, every step regaining some measure of pride and honor back from the mystery man.

The bodyguard reached out and grabbed the tuxedoed man by the collar. He pulled his right fist back. The man in a tuxedo smiled and raised his hands in an apologetic and appeasing way. The bodyguard hesitated for a moment as the man patted him on the chest with pacifying touch of his right hand.

"Now, now my friend..."

The man grunted. Then groaned in pain. Then gasped...

"Have a heart."

The tuxedoed man held it in his hand. As if from thin air.

The bodyguard dropped to the ground. The sound of clothes ruffling and the jangling of guns being aimed echoed around the man.

"Ah! A slip of the hand," he said as he released the still-beating heart. It landed next to the rapidly paling corpse's head.

Mr. Hert raised his hand. His enforcers lowered their weapons. The metal sound of jostling gun accessories sounded as rifles, submachine guns, and pistols were lowered. He tilted his head up, looking at the mysterious man down his nose.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled, running a hand through his medium black hair.

"Why, call me the Tallyman. I'm here to help you collect on the debt the Tao Long owe you all."

"Tch... all right Tallyman, how do you suppose we do that?"

The Tallyman's smile grew wider, "You need a new bodyguard, don't you Mr. Hert? Have you heard about Nen? Have any of you fine gentlemen heard of Nen?"

Most of them stared at him, perplexed. Others had some recognition on their face, but only held a passing whisper of it in their thoughts. The ones who knew only barely understood Aura.

The division between the kings of crime and menial malefactors

The Tallyman laughed.

Another man stepped out from the night. Large, fat, and a mane of blonde hair. Dressed in an oversized shirt and purple shorts, his tan skin and blonde goatee made it obvious he was in his mid-twenties. A large, white fur coat was the only thing keeping him protected from the cold night. The giant, gold chain around his neck was there for style and not protection against the weather. Though, the fact he wore open-toed sandals showed he didn't seem to care about the cold anyway.

"Let's start a revolution!" said Tally Man with a wave of his arms.


Mercutio continued, "Vasili's a schemer. He was born with all the brains. But neither of them have a shred of humanity between them. He won't show his face when he's causing problems…"

He took a deep breath, frowned, and continued.

"We don't know the full extent of the brother's Nen abilities. From what we've seen, Victor is an Enhancer and Visili is a Manipulator or Emitter. It's hard to tell."

Briannaisa nodded and continued, "All we know is that Victor has terrifying physical strength and agility, and the ability to phase through people..."

Marlin snarled, "Yeah... with freakin' option to detach things if he wants. Not that he ever stops doing that."

Sparrow followed up, "And Vasili's got a Hatsu that lets 'em pull things out of... well anything. We've seen him pull people out of entire rooms... err... only halfway..."

Shoot gulped, fighting back his nerves and doing a commendable job.

"Are you referring to the Ackor Town Massacre? The police knew it was the Tao Long... but twelve people were found cut in half. Each half of their body on the inside and outside of the building...'

York scoffed again, "Yeah... they're monsters in the worst ways. Visili calls his brother Mr. Inside and Victor calls his brother Mr. Outside. It's 'cause of their Hatsus and how they... well other things."

Briannaisa frowned, "We know they have more Hatsus, we just don't know what... They're so... absurdly talented. It took them less than six months to master Nen... and then they killed their masters."

Knuckle rubbed his neck and tilted his head to the side, "Jeez, I know a person's supposed to keep their Nen ability a secret, but ain't you guys on the same side?"

York shook his head, "Not really. When Evira came to town she gathered the various gangs and offered a change of the status quo. She may have charisma, intelligence, drive, and the will to put that this all together."

The old man made a circle with his hand and continued.

But no person can conquer a city by themselves. The three largest independent gangs in the city came together: mine, Darsten's, and the brothers. She hired Nen masters and we learned the basics... that was a huge mistake."

Shoot narrowed his eyes, "What you're saying is the Rohan Brother aren't really allies?"

York shook his head, "Technically yes. In practice? No. All Victor cares about is doing what he pleases, and all Vasili cares about is gaining more power. Usually Victor rears his ugly mug to cause trouble... but not both of 'em at once."

Mercutio shook his head, "I'm telling you they're up to something..."

The fedora clad man's phone rang. It shattered the silence like glass. Everyone tensed up.

He answered it, nodded his head, and frowned.

"Let's move."


The blaring of radio chatter came from his dashboard.

The blonde detective turned the steering wheel as he closed his flip phone. He sighed as the car he overtook started blaring their horn, cutting through the sound of traffic. The detective put his phone down next to him on his passenger seat and sighed. He reached over and lowered the volume on his radio.

Mercutio was going to have his balls in a vice if he didn't calm the scene down before his people arrived. With another sigh, he flipped on the switch to his police sirens and overtook another car. The swishing sound of his coffee crying out, telling him it was threatening to spill in its styrofoam container.

The ringing of his cell caused him to bite back a curse. He just put the damn thing down. He sighed again and reached over toward the sliding phone, annoyance growing as it moved with a life of its own. Moving right at the edge of his reach. Shifting forward and back as he drove around city folks in city cars who were too good to move out of the way of police until the last second.

Minature kings and queens in their metal carriages. They barely deigned to give the haggard police officer space to move forward in deadlocked traffic. He bit a curse as he barely avoided a jaywalking pedestrian, who had the audacity give the detective the finger for getting in his way. He took in a deep breath and sighed.

Then he felt something hot dribbling down his socks. He looked down to see coffee draining down his leg. He sighed and finally grabbed the phone.

"Yeah, it's Charlie. Wait, what? No, rookie don'- I said wait. Don't do anything stupid kid, you don- look. Jun! Wait! Just wait for me to get th- calm down! More people'll die if you- hello? Aargh... god damn..."

Charlie rubbed an eye with his large, callused hands. God damn it. Why was it so hard being a crooked cop?

"All right... time to save a rookie's life."

He gunned it to the outskirts of the city. The sound of peeling tired ringing out through the night.


Hello dear readers! I hope you are all doing well and continue to do well!

Welcome Victor and Vasili Rohan, two villains we'll see until the Phantom Troupe roll into town. Two 'english' gentlemen based on the Cray Twins. With Victor having some Charles Bronson in him and Vasili Jude Law if his brain was replaced by Ted Bundy.

If you want to know how Victor's body looks like… he's like a cross between Spec and Jack Hanma from Baki the Grappler. If that's a terrifying image, yup. That's what I'm trying to get across, hahaha.

I hope you all stay safe and healthy! Until next time!

Rondo out