Book 2: Malum
Chapter 17: Brute Force, Brute Force, Brute Force, and Murder
"The best way to tame a mystery is with another mystery."
- Oreki Houtarou (Hyouka)
Rita felt that Hunter Chairman Netero would normally someone she would really, really hate. The man was too perky, not to mention: what the hell were this man's legs made out of? She made it a habit not to listen to him too carefully lest he wind up sucking her into his little escapades and speeches. Still, she did need to ask him about chess, whatever it was that Ging called it, but Rita supposed that could wait until after the examination. As of now, he was laying down the rules for the final stage of the Hunter Exam. All the girl really understood was that she just needed to win; one win would guarantee her a victory.
Then again, she really didn't need to guarantee herself a victory; she needed to guarantee Gon's safety.
But there was a problem. Netero had explained that to gain a victory, one needed to make their opponent surrender. Meaning Gon could or could not be subjected to a world of pain depending upon who he was put with.
Rita wondered if watching Gon get several limbs broken would mean a breach in her promise with Ging.
Still, the promise she had made with the geezer was one to secure the child's life; and broken bones weren't anything Hunters couldn't handle. She would step in if his life was in immediate danger. Anything less than that, Gon would have to endure himself.
And then the problem with Kurapika. Stupid Pariston had outdone himself, pinning a job on her in the final rounds of the Hunter Examination when tensions were beginning to peak. Just what the hell was she really supposed to do, ask if she could tag along with the kid for a few days?
There were many things on her chest, and not enough way to relieve the pressure.
Rita took a deep, deep breathe and silently reminded herself to buy a pack of cigarettes once this was finished. She was down to her last two. Albeit, when she finished, she had better be walking out with a Hunter License in one hand for all the hell she had to go through for this.
"What's wrong?" Killua stared up at her curiously. "Nervous?"
She exhaled, irritated enough as was. "Look, kid, why do you keep pestering me?"
"Because it's funny!" He giggled. "And I know you remember me." He said in a more serious tone.
"Well you're senile." She rolled her eyes and brought a cigarette up in between her lips. This was getting out of hand, and it was shameful, being unable to control her nicotine cravings under stressful situations. Maybe she should quit.
She entertained the idea for several seconds and threw it out the window. She chuckled. Hell no.
"Can I try one?" Killua asked, eyes shining as he motioned to her roll.
"Aren't you like, twelve?" She glared at him.
"Aren't you like, forty?" His cat-eyes gleamed mischievously.
A splitting migraine seared through her brain and settled comfortably right behind her eyes, making her wince slightly. Maybe she should have Ging look at these weird headaches she'd been getting recently; they were really starting to become bothersome.
"Whatever, you're not my responsibility." She shook her head and gave the kid her last one.
"Light?" He asked.
For kicks, Rita smirked and brought her fingers to the end of the small roll, snapping them as she brought her nen to a spark via friction. The embers caught and began a new life as a dull blaze in the end of the cigarette.
"Take a long drag, Killua." She demonstrated, blowing the smoke out through her mouth. "Isn't it disgusting."
He tried to do as she did but failed miserably, coughing and hacking his lungs up after taking a whiff. "It's gross!"
"Lot's of things are." Rita laughed. "Now throw that away and never light another. They'll kill you in the long run."
"Th-Then," more coughing. "Why do I see you smoking so many yourself?!" He demanded, turning to fairness and unfairness as all little children had a tendency to do at his age.
Another long drag. "There are things inside of me I need to kill." Rita said quietly. "You'll understand when you get older. Stop hanging around me and talk to Gon. You're making him antsy by leaving him alone."
Killua looked at her, curiosity unsated, even sparked, and hesitated before running off with his blue cat-eyes still on her as he left her side.
"I can't even rest in peace, can I?"
- Kamina (Gurren Lagann)
Lately, he hadn't been able to get more than three hours of sleep at a time. It was a long time, three hours, especially relatively speaking, and Kuroro figured he should count his blessings, but he wondered what his life would be like if he was a normal person every once in awhile. It would be nice, a normal sleep schedule; peace of mind for six hours, even if only temporarily.
Kuroro took a deep breath and stood up. "We're splitting up for the time being."
"About time." Phinx whooped, getting on his own two feet and swinging his arms around, as if being in the presence of the other Spiders for an extended period of time had somehow resulted in a stiffness of shoulders.
"Any particular reason?" Pakunoda questioned.
"Just that there's no particular reason for us to stay together. Besides, most of us are solitary people. We get into fights if we're around each other for too long."
"When will we convene again?"
"We're dispersing for an indefinite period of time."
"How will you call us together next time?"
"You'll know." Kuroro blinked. "Any other questions?"
He looked around to his Spiders, suddenly hoping this decision wasn't too sudden, that it didn't harshly go against anyone's particular will. It's just that Kuroro himself was very tired and constantly having to put up a façade of mental stability wasn't helping.
He debated asking whether or not this was an acceptable course of action for everyone in his Troupe, but decided against it. If they didn't like it, no one would have qualms about making their own grievances known; they were not a quiet group of people, after all.
"Disperse." He gave the final word. It was a relaxed one this time, and people began to gather up their things and belongings as they slowly made their way out of their temporary hideout. Kuroro made himself a mental note to destroy it afterward. They were quickly rising in terms of notoriety and though there was no doubt in his mind that he himself could fend off any unwanted and unwarranted attention, he would still rather avoid all of it, if possible.
"Dancho," someone suddenly sought his attention, and he forcibly snapped himself from his thought process.
"Yes, Pakunoda." He answered.
"Please take care of yourself in the meantime."
Truth be told, Kuroro was not entirely certain of his relationship with the aquiline-nosed woman. She was a Spider, of course, and entirely loyal to him. Still she was ruthless and did not hesitate to engage in carnage when the situation called for mass murder. Many times she had demonstrated her powerful fidelity to Kuroro, going out of her way to ensure his well-being, almost as if trying to make up for the gaping hole the loss of a certain member had left. Sometimes it made him uncomfortable, and other times, it brought brief but nonetheless palpable respite to his wearied self.
"Thank you." Kuroro closed his eyes, nodded his head once. "You as well. I'll see you in due time."
She was not always a woman of many words and proceeded to make her exit swiftly and quietly. Ten minutes later found Kuroro alone in the building, alone with nothing but himself and his own thoughts.
The Phantom Troupe head toyed with the idea of taking a little nap but decided that it would be bad if someone had the shit luck of stumbling in on his sleeping figure and put the idea to rest. He brought out his nen book and flipped through the pages leisurely, meandering around in it as he searched for a power that would help him reduce the place to ruins.
Finding nothing to his fancy, he opted simply to indulge himself in a play of stress-relief and throw his nen around in order to destroy the inside of the building.
If there was one thing he regretted about the way he killed his companion, it would have to be the fact that he took nothing to remind him of her. Sometimes it frightened him, how he forgot exactly what shade of hazel her eyes were; the way her smirk would set itself on her cocky expression; the sound of her caustic voice.
He wished he could tell himself it was the right thing to do. Back then, the Spider had been budding and blooming, and it possessed only six or seven members at its disposal. It had been vulnerable, and letting someone like the previous eighth member into its ranks had seriously jeopardized the entire group sometimes; mostly it jeopardized him. He couldn't think straight around her, and for someone who relied so heavily on his intellect, it was something he couldn't afford.
Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.
"Tale somberness non si sposa bene con te Kuroro, devo dire. (Such somberness doesn't sit well with you Kuroro, I must say)."
Kuroro blinked, shocked to suddenly find himself plunged into darkness. He blinked several times, but it did not fade. And then he realized that in his inner musings, he had wasted several hours in which the sun had set entirely. He sat now, in a pile of rubble that his nen had crushed, the remains of the dilapidated building they had used as a base beforehand. The night had set deep.
It took him several more seconds to cogitate on the syllables that had been spouted at him, and yet another few for him to register that, yes, he was indeed familiar with the language. Italian.
"Prendete il vostro tempo dolce come sempre, non è vero Marzio? (You take your sweet time as always, don't you Marzio?)"
"Io sono un uomo semplice. Cosa posso dire? (I am a simple man. What can I say?)" Laughter came as a shadowy figure sat himself down behind Kuroro. He put his back against Kuroro's own.
Marzio was one of a select number of people who could make natural contact with Kuroro and keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders. Why that was, even Kuroro wasn't too sure. But Marzio was a people person, one well-versed in human charisma and nature. That probably had something to do with it, as did the fact that Marzio was a man with intricate ties to the higher-ups in the Mafia. He was intelligent, even if his arrogance overshadowed that particular fact, and it was not a stretch to say that he frightened the Phantom Troupe leader.
Oh they would laugh at him now if they could see him. Kuroro Lucifer of all people treading lightly around Mafia scum, soft under-bellied trash.
He had never been able to sum Marzio up in one sentence, as he had never been able to fully grasp the size of Marzio's prowess. He stayed constantly in a strange nen state where it was obvious that he was using his aura, but it was never clear how much of it he was utilizing.
"Cosa succede? (What's been going on?)"
"Li ho dispersi, come si può vedere. La prossima volta che convochiamo sarà al Auction Yorkshin, nel mese di settembre. Ci vediamo lì Hisoka per la prima volta anche. (I've dispersed them, as you can see. The next time we convene will be at the Yorkshin Auction, in September. I'll meet Hisoka there for the first time too.)"
"Il tuo ottavo membro mentalmente instabile? (Your mentally unstable eighth member?)"
"Un certo mago insidioso. Nessuno di noi è il suono nel reparto mentale, in modo da non utilizzare il termine ad alta voce. (A certain treacherous magician. None of us are sound in the mental department, so we don't use the term out loud.)"
"Vedo. Sei nervoso per questa asta? (I see. Are you nervous for this auction?)"
"No." Kuroro answered too quickly. "E 'solo una vendita all'asta, niente di più e niente di meno. Ti porteremo la mummia e la spada che si dice di essere sulla lista dell'asta. Tutto il resto prendiamo. (It's just an auction, nothing more and nothing less. We'll get you the mummy and the sword that are said to be on the auction list. Everything else we'll take.)"
"E in cambio, ti darò la pace della mente. (And in exchange, I'll give you peace of mind.)" Marzio chuckled.
"Se solo fosse così semplice. (If only it were so easy.)"
"E '! (It is!)" He exclaimed. "Ti troverò una donna migliore, Chrollo. (I'll find you a better woman, Chrollo.)" Marzio said his foreign name smoothly and easily, like a serpent. "Uno che non poteva nemmeno confrontare. (One that she couldn't even compare to.)"
"Tu dici che solo perché non la conoscevate. (You say that only because you didn't know her.)"
"Sono stato con molte donne, il mio amico. Ci sono un sacco di pesci nel mare. (I have been with many women, my friend. There are plenty of fish in the sea.)" He waved with a flourish. "Ma in realtà, la mafia ha ancora le sue informazioni in suo database. Se tu fossi davvero così affezionato a lei, possiamo fare un altro. (But really, the Mafia still has her information in her database. If you were really so fond of her, we can make another one.)"
Kuroro nearly recoiled at this information, as if the words themselves had delivered a sharp burn. "Fare un altro? (Make another one?)" He repeated.
"Era un'arma biologica. Naturalmente abbiamo la codifica nel file. Una copia, Chrollo. Oh, andiamo compagno carissimo, non guardare così scioccato. Non era nemmeno umano per cominciare. (She was a biological weapon. Of course we have her coding on file. A carbon copy, Chrollo. Oh come on companion dearest, don't look so shocked. She wasn't even human to begin with.)"
"Era ancora la propria persona. (She was still her own person.)"
"Alla fine, è davvero tutto a voi. Se si ottiene me quello che ho chiesto, ti darò tutto quello che vuoi. Alla fine, potremmo probabilmente anche il suo risorgere, se è stato trovato il corpo. (In the end, it's really all up to you. If you get me what I asked for, I'll give you anything you want. In the end, we could probably even resurrect her, if the body was found.)"
"Basta con questo strano discorso. (Enough of this strange talk.)" Kuroro shook his head slightly. "Cosa volevi stasera? (What did you want tonight?)"
"Un compagno di sopportare la solitudine con. (A companion to bear the loneliness with.)" Marzio brought out of a large bottle of red wine; where he had been keeping the damn thing was beyond Kuroro.
"Non bevo. (I don't drink.)" Kuroro remarked.
"E non prendo docce, ora chiuso l'inferno. (And I don't take showers, now shut the hell up.)" The Italian snorted. "Non sto cercando di intossicare voi. Se ti fa sentire meglio, cerchiamo di testa di un motel a condividerlo. (I'm not trying to intoxicate you. If it would make you feel better, let's head to a motel to share it.)"
"Ti dirò che cosa. Io sono alcuni con voi se si gioca una partita a scacchi con me. (I'll tell you what. I'll have some with you if you play a game of chess with me.)"
"E dove otteniamo la scacchiera, Chrollo? (And where do we get the chessboard, Chrollo?)"
Kuroro brought an index finger up to his temple, tapping it twice. "Quassù, compagno carissimo. (Up here, companion dearest.)"
"Nothing will progress while you can't make up your mind."
- Ai Kotani (Solani)
"Tch."
Rita hit the southern wall of the room painfully as her back collided with the solid plaster. She couldn't help the sound of exasperation that found its way through her clenched teeth.
"There's really no need for this to continue on, miss."
The girl straightened up and brushed herself off. In all honesty, this battle should have posed no problem for her.
Except Netero had decreed that she could not kill her opponent, and that placed unnecessary restrictions on her nen output, so now the girl had to tread lightly, more so than she would have liked.
"The power difference is really quite clear."
Quite clear, I fucking know. Rita felt her temper peak.
"You should surrender before you're permanently wounded."
"I think I'll manage somehow, Bodoro." Rita nearly scoffed. The man was old, though well-versed in the martial arts, and he already had one foot in the grave. Pity had never been one of her more prominently felt emotions, so really, he was just unlucky.
Until Rita figured out a way to make him surrender, she would humor him, let him think he had the upper hand.
From thirty feet away, Gon watched her battle with wide, bright eyes. Absentmindedly Rita wondered what the world would look like from the perspective of those shining, unclouded orbs.
A sudden movement in front of her wrenched her focus back to her fight, the final stage of the Hunter Examination. The well-aged martial artist managed to keep her attention on him for the full span of two minutes before Rita found it wandering around again.
What would Ging do if he found out that Rita had stood idly by while she had watched the eyebrow ninja swiftly dislocate one of his shoulders? Well, knowing Ging, it was more obvious that he wouldn't mind nearly as much as a typical parent would; it wouldn't be surprising if Ging weren't angry at all. Gon had successfully completed his Hunter Examination and his shoulder was being treated as Rita fought her own individual battle. But then there was the problem of gaining the Kuruta's trust for a while. Finding out his motives, as Pariston had so eloquently put it.
Rita felt her arm make a strange noise under the pressure of Bodoro's well-timed kick. She had miscalculated the coverage of her nen as well as the elderly man's strength, and now she would pay the consequences.
Hissing, the girl put several paces of safety distance between herself and the martial arts master.
Why were her thoughts suddenly becoming so chaotic?
Angry with the situation as well as with herself, Rita ran her finger through her hair and threw off her hoodie.
"Well?" Bodoro prompted.
"Maybe if you can keep this pace up for another hour or two, I'll consider letting you have the match." She didn't think the man realized how lucky he was she was required not to kill him.
Feeling a prickling pressure on her back, Rita panicked and turned around, only to come to the realization that the young assassin was watching her match with extremely perceptive eyes. His blue eyes were narrowed and a hard-set line comprised his lips; he was disappointed.
I'll show you disappointed you disrespectful imposing preteen, Rita snarled inwardly.
In context however, the twelve year old was right. He had every right to be disappointed with her, especially after the way she had treated his group beforehand. Big words and no action to back it up with was all Killua was seeing.
What you need to do is focus on one thing at a time, Rita, she told herself. So what do you need to focus on now? She narrowed her eyes. Getting what I put up with this for; my Hunter License.
Taking a deep breath, the orangette unexpectedly sat down and closed her eyes. A confused murmur ripped through the small crowd spectating her match. Turmoil was a powerful motivator but it was never the most effective, nor was it the most organized. Nothing would get done if she didn't execute her moves precisely with a clear mind.
Poor Bodoro must have thought she was mocking him by sitting down in the middle of their heated battle without so much as a word, judging from the quick barrage of martial arts moves he began raining down on her.
No use.
All of her nen right now was being focused on outward protection; no simple kick or jab would put a scratch on her.
How do I make him surrender? Rita's mind began to race. How do I win this without killing him?
"But pleasure brought out by intellect is infinite."
- Kouzaburou Touma (Psycho-Pass)
"There are four ways to win a match." Ging says, hands in his pockets as his bitter eyes glared up at the cloudless sky. "Brute force, fear, intellect, or murder."
"They all sound ridiculous." Rita snorts, rolling her eyes. "Apart from brute force, which is probably the only real way to win your fight."
"Were you listening, you ungrateful brat?" The Two-Star Hunter snapped.
"Maybe I'd listen more if you acted like your age instead of your shoe size!"
"What did you say?"
"Tell me I'm wrong!"
"You are!"
He makes a sound of pure exasperation and suddenly collapses on his rear. This strikes Rita as a utterly strange and moronic endeavor that only proves her previous accusation, as they had just finished excavating one of Ging's precious relics and were, of course, in the middle of the desert, mid-day nonetheless.
"What the fuck are you doing?" She groans.
"Meditating. Now get on your ass and do the same."
"Ging, we're out of water! Can you please be practical, for once in your life?!"
"It's only for an hour or two Rita; cooperate, for once in your life."
His tone suddenly turns grave, which is one of the few things Ging can do that will actually frighten her. The man is usually such an irresponsible goofball, and a lazy one on top of that, so seeing the Zodiac take something seriously usually signified some matter of primary importance.
"I swear to god, Ging…" She relents, sitting down on the scorching sand next to the man, who has debatably lost his sanity at this point.
"What were the four ways, Rita?"
"Brute force, brute force, brute force, and murder." She closed her own eyes, feeling the irritation in his aura peak next to her.
"Brute force, fear, intellect, and murder." He corrects her, his own voice wavering slightly at the difficulty of restraining himself from knocking her over the head. "The four ways to win a match."
"Enlighten me, dear Confucius."
"Enlightenment is an aspect of Buddhism, you moron!" This time he really does knock her over the head. "Now shut up and listen."
Rita mutters to herself for a good ten seconds before settling down and deciding to take in what Ging actually has to say.
"Brute force is when you hurt your opponent to the point where he or she can no longer stand and fight. This is regarded as one of the most difficult methods, but for some reason, it is the method most often used."
"Because it's the most straight-forward and impactful." She points out.
"It's also the most exhausting and time consuming, as well as wasteful." Ging responds, his eyes still shut tight. A frown twists his facial features. "You also jump straight to this, even when it's unnecessary."
Rita admits he's right, but says nothing out loud.
"Winning by fear means grasping victory through intimidation. When you portray yourself as too powerful for your opponent to overcome, or take on and come out alive, there is a good chance you won't have to fight at all. This is regarded as the most clever and preferred method of victory."
"Hey Ging, you actually sound really wise and it's actually scaring the shit out of me. Can we haul ass over to the next town. Please?"
Rita knows she'll have bruises on the back of her head by that night, tomorrow morning if she's lucky.
"Winning by intellect is akin to outsmarting your opponent. If there's something this principle teaches you, it's that all of your opponents have a flaw. Search hard enough and you'll find it. Think hard enough and you'll find a way to use that weakness to your example."
"So basically just-"
"Shhh!" Ging hisses violently, if is already aggravated enough. "Rita, intellect also means having enough background knowledge on your opponent and their methods and habits to defeat them. A person's way of life is often their largest weakness in battles."
"Aaand, murder is straight-forward so let's keep moving Ging." Rita leaps up to her feet, breaking the meditation and dusting herself off.
"You'll do well to keep these four principles in mind, Rita." He fixes her with a sidelong glance that unnerves the girl.
"Can you snap out of it!" She growls. "You're creeping me out."
"Maybe when you learn the difference between philosophy and religion you uncultured swine!" Ging hmphs.
And Rita knows she is safe again.
"It's not the strong or smart who survive, but the ones who can bring about change."
- Ludenberg Celestia (Danganronpan)
The pleasant memory brought her temporary peace and lightened the enormous burden on her chest physically. As much as she hated him, Rita realized she felt awkward and ungainly without the cantankerous Two-Star Hunter by her side.
Killua now fixed her with a curious look, the sides of lips curved up in the beginnings of a light smile.
Bodoro himself now stood back, thinking to himself. It was obvious that ramming her with ineffective hand-to-hand techniques wouldn't do anything to tip the scales in his favor, so he examined her once more with a careful eyes.
Within the seated girl was a racing intelligence.
Rita, intellect also means having enough background knowledge on your opponent and their methods and habits to defeat them; Ging's voice fluttered back to her.
So what do I know about Bodoro?
He was old. He was an elderly male. A martial arts master.
And? What kind of martial arts? What does he adhere to? Does he follow strict disciplines?
Rita wasn't sure what form of martial arts he practiced. Still, karate and aikido were out of the picture, as was kung fu. Karate promoted the use of weapons, which he avoided and aikido stressed using the force of one's opponent and their weight against them. His stances were far to set and wide to be a part of kung fu's agile practice.
More. What more do you know? What can you take advantage of?
A sudden realization bolted through Rita like thunder, jolting her from her own meditation.
He doesn't fight children. It's against his personal code of honor.
When Netero had gone through the painstaking process of setting up matches for the final stage of the Hunter Exam, he had done his best to pair opponents without emotional attachments and had asked a variety of questions.
It was rather easy to listen in on all the personal preferences of the rest of the contestants as the chairman had really made no extra effort to soundproof the private room where he had been interviewing all the contestants.
Bodoro had wanted avoid a match with Gon or Killua, as he didn't fight children, on any occasion.
A gamble. Is it worth it?
Rita cleared her throat and slowly stood up, feeling much more confident than she had previously. Using the powerful legs that she had vested so much time and pride in, she suddenly appeared not three feet from Bodoro, hand on his shoulder.
"If you don't forfeit," she whispered, tightening her grip on his shoulder painfully. "I'll kill the boy whose shoulder got wrenched out of his socket. And maybe that one over there, for kicks." She jerked her head over to the silver-haired assassin who was still watching them with piqued anxiousness.
For added precaution, she expanded her nen past the reaches of her body to totally envelop the man. Her nen had never been the powerful type, but it had always had a plentiful concentration of malice within it; it was enough to convince the man of her cold-bloodedness.
She felt the martial arts master go rigid all over his body, stiff and angry.
Score.
Eight seconds later, Bodoro sighed and raised his hand. "I surrender."
Rita exhaled in quiet relief. Of course she wouldn't have laid a finger on Gon, Ging's child, especially not when he was basically a cripple, as was his current condition. Nor did she want to trifle with Killua, the cat-eyed twelve year old who debatably knew more about her than she did herself. Her bluff had worked though, and that was what mattered. She would walk out of the room with her Hunter License soon.
A ridiculous amount of anxiousness and impatience flared up from across the room, heavily centered around Hisoka. He was looking at her with orbs clouded with excitement and exhilaration.
Rita shuddered and rolled her eyes.
She had never liked clowns, and this one was no exception.
This one more than the others, for God's sake.
TO BE CONTINUED
"Victory isn't determined solely by who has the superior physical abilities."
- Tsumugu Kinagase (Kill la Kill)
a/n: Hey guys :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It's almost twice as long as the other one. A little Valentine's day treat! (Even though it's 3AM and it's technically not Valentine's day anymore D:) Please drops some reviews, I really, really, really LOVE IT when you guys give me feed back! It's so dearl appreciated! I'll try to keep updating around once a week! Until next time ~