Chapter XII

The city lights outside their window are like fireflies drifting in the air. A shade of red-orange, blinking intermittently. In any given night, Valtiel would have already plunged herself into the porch to admire the lights and the view−but not tonight.

Chrollo walks into their shared bedroom with a weary sigh. Dressed only in his simple shirt and pajamas, he pads into the room and closes the door behind him. He tips his head, staring at the big lump on the bed. It is unmoving, thought it does let out a few shaky breaths and a tiny sob.

This is the third consecutive night that Valtiel woke up from nightmares.

It is a bit worrying, and horrifying to some extent, to hear her scream into the darkness, sit up straight, and tremble beside him. Whenever he tries for comfort, she hisses and slaps his hand away. That's only the first night. The second night is somehow worse, Valtiel seeing nothing but the Prince of Kakin in Chrollo's face that she glares and snarls at him like a cornered beast.

On the third night, Valtiel decides to get away from him altogether.

He sighs and tries again, sliding to the mattress and settling next to her.

"Valtiel?"

She hisses and curls even tighter underneath the duvet.

Chrollo slumps and blows at his bangs. "Val, dearest, you've been there for five hours. Are you not tired? Or hungry? Come, talk to me−" He pries the hem of the duvet open.

"Don't touch me!" she rasps, her glazed golden eyes reminding him so much of their first time together.

Under her protective dome, she is trembling like a leaf, fingers too tight around herself. She looks like a deranged woman with her unkempt hair and wild eyes, the labored breathing, and everything. When Chrollo smiles gently and reaches out again, she scrambles away from him, shouting another, "Don't touch me!"

Chrollo frowns. Not touching Valtiel would be too hard a task.

"Come out now," he says in a more authoritative tone. She flinches. "Come out and come here."

"But, Danchou…" She sniffles, peeking between the hems.

"Now, now," he coaxes and opens his arms for her. He doesn't give her a choice when he scoots closer and engulfs her in his arms, her head tucked just under his chin. He presses his nose on her rumpled hair and inhales the scent of clean linen on her. "It's going to be okay," he murmurs as he runs his hand up and down her back. "You're safe here with me. No Prince of Kakin will ever come and take you away from me."

She sniffs and buries her head in his chest.

He could feel the swell of pride and joy at the feeling of her submitting to him. He embraces her tighter; in his arms, she is so small and vulnerable, like a little bird too delicate to the touch.

"I will protect you," Chrollo promises. "I will protect you from everything and everyone. You must not, for a moment, be worried about that." He pulls away and lifts her chin. He half-expects to see her Scarlet Eyes when she is this emotional, but−oh well. "You have the entire Phantom Troupe to protect you. You're safe with me. Okay?"

He doesn't receive an answer. He clicks his tongue and presses his thumb on her chin. "Okay, Val?"

"I don't know…" she mumbles, shaking still. "I just−I just don't know anymore…"

"Trust me. Trust me on this one, Val."

She lowers her eyes. No matter how much her nightmares have scared her, the Danchou always has a way to distract her. She nods meekly and slumps against his larger build, exhausted from the nightmares and from the tears. If only she could forget the Prince and remember everything else, that would be great.

They stay in each other's arms for a few minutes, until Valtiel shifts and looks up at the Danchou again.

As usual, his features are one of quiet adoration. For what, she has no idea.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, kissing her on the forehead.

"I might be," she mutters against his shirt, unable to pull away from his strong hold.

"Good, because I have something for you." He proceeds to the kitchenette and returns with a platter of some dessert. He proudly shows the food to Valtiel. "I give you−profiteroles."

"Hmm." Valtiel hums at the pastry, but then brightens when she notices a bowl of chocolate dip. Nightmares and fears pushed aside, she dips her finger into the bowl and licks.

He grimaces. "Manners, Val."

She actually smiles, her first smile in three days.

Sighing in defeat, Chrollo sits back on the pillows and watches her eat. It boggles his mind how someone could be so predictable yet difficult to handle at the same time. He rests his chin at the heel of his palm, lazily watching her through his bangs. At least she is cooperating with him again. Not like when she was pushing him away. He doesn't like to think that Valtiel could be anything without him.

"We're going to see the others soon," he says out of blue.

"Oh, yesh," she answers through a mouthful of the pastry. "When?"

"Soon," he teases, and has the pleasure to see her roll her eyes at him. He rumbles a low laugh.

The crumbs are flying everywhere on the bed now. He grimaces again and dusts them off the duvet.

"You're such a messy eater, Val. It's gross."

"You're not complaining."

"I am," he points out. "I am complaining. This is the complaint."

She sticks her tongue out at him.

He sighs. Whose five-year-old child am I looking after?

As she finishes with the profiteroles, she sweeps her finger across the bowl's surface and makes one last lick at the chocolate dip. Chrollo is ready to put away the platter and bowl, when he notices something else.

Scooting ever closer, he gathers the bead of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. His dark eyes are locked on her golden eyes as he delicately licks it off his finger.

Valtiel stares at him, and then shoots him a deadpan look.

"Now, that was gross, Danchou."

The air in this country shimmers with heat, despite the winter season. Chrollo is grateful that the airport has functioning cooling systems, strong chilly winds blasting through the vents on the walls. He sits back and sighs, feeling too hot to speak or conjure other thoughts, except for the incessant heat. He knows his cheeks are flushed, the beads of sweat rolling over the length of his back and chest. Next to him, the Kurta does not seem perturbed in the slightest.

With a strawberry smoothie in one hand, Valtiel studies the map in the other. One of the flight attendants provided them a guide and map for tour spots, to which Chrollo could care less right now. It is too hot for his liking, prompting him to fan at his face.

"Are you okay, Danchou?"

"A little," he says, panting. He throws his head back and lets his dark hair hang loosely for a while.

"You don't seem okay to me." She studies the map again and makes scribbles in the corners. Sensing that the Spider head is uncomfortable, she offers her smoothie to him. "Care for some?"

"Thanks." Chrollo sips as he leans over her shoulder. His eyes narrow at the strange words. He does not recognize the words, or the language. "You could read what it says?"

"Sure." She nods, pointing a forefinger to one word. "Desara City. Can't you read, Danchou?"

"Not this language, no." A small smile forms across his lips. He ignores the country's heat and instead focuses on the young woman. He points to another word, asks for its meaning, and gets an answer. He bobs his head in fascination. "Incredible, Val. Well done."

She snatches her smoothie before he could finish it. She takes a sip, her lips pouting. "Has Shalnark-san called out yet? We've been waiting for an hour, you know."

He checks his phone. There is no signal in this desert city in the middle of nowhere. "This might take a while," he says. He pulls the map so that the length of it lays across on both of their laps, and starts pinpointing words and asking their meanings. Better to play games than focus on the crippling heat.

After a while of lounging in the airport's lobby, his phone vibrates.

Chrollo stands and offers his hand to her. His other hand pulls at their luggage bag. "Shal is waiting for us at the entrance. He has a car running for us."

Upon exiting the airport, a strong gust of hot air and sand blows at their faces. Their pale cheeks are flushed with color from the intense heat. Despite their discomfort, a bright and cheerful face comes to greet them.

"Danchou! Valtiel!"

"Shalnark-san!"

Instead of Chrollo walking to meet with his Spider, it is Valtiel who breaks into a run and throws herself into Shalnark's open arms. The bubbly Spider bends down and catches her around the waist, and then spins her around so joyfully as if they are children, their laughter ringing in the expanse of the bleak desert. Once Shalnark sets her back to her feet, he smiles and pats her on the head.

Hands in his pockets, Chrollo silently walks up to them.

"We missed you," Valtiel says.

"I missed you both!" Shalnark chirps, not at all disturbed by the heat. His green eyes blink at his leader's appearance and he compares his look to the young woman. He smiles broadly. "Matching clothes, I see! Relationship goals or something?"

Chrollo wears an indigo robe with sleeves so long they go past his arms. The fabric, hiding his brown sandals, covers his feet. He has a simple indigo veil around his neck and over his head. Beside him, Valtiel wears a feminine version of Chrollo's otherwise simple garb; her indigo robe has intricate golden embroideries dancing around the chest and collar, and her veil has the same golden embroideries and is sewed with brown-and-gold sequins around the edges. Standing side-by-side, they could pass for the natives of this country.

"Do you have what I asked for?" Chrollo goes down to business at once.

"All ready, Danchou!" Shalnark escorts them to the waiting car. He takes the driver's seat while the pair shuffles into the backseats. He rearranges the rearview mirror to glance at them. "It wasn't really easy to find him, though. I had to exhaust the use of my Hunter License to track him down to this place."

"Where is he now?"

"Phinks and Feitan are watching over him, but I am sure he can't put up a fight."

"Ah! That reminds me." Valtiel leans over to the younger Spider's side. "Have you finished selling the Scarlet Eyes yet?"

"Sure!" He grins at her as he drives. Again, he glances to the mirror at Chrollo. "I bet my team would win the game. Our every calculations were precise. And I have the best team members, too!"

"I don't doubt it," Chrollo agrees, smiling. "But I also have the reason to believe that my team has done very well. My partner is extremely reliable, I could not ask for a better one." He smiles down at Valtiel's beaming face, though deep inside, guilt still eats at him. They have not spoken about the incident with the prince since it happened almost two weeks ago.

"It'd be a hard competition for sure," Shalnark says. "Paku's team is also very competitive."

"I think we all did well," Valtiel chimes in as she sets back on her seat and leans against Chrollo's arm.

The car follows the straight pathway that connects the airport to the nearest sprawling metropolis city with towering glass buildings that refracts the sun's beams into colorful arrays across the sands. Entering the city requires a pass, and Shalnark, having already stuck an antenna at one of the guards, weaves their car through three security checkpoints without difficulty.

The citizens of Desara City are dressed in the same indigo clothes as Chrollo and Valtiel, though theirs are more traditional, looking ironic for such an upscale city. In bird's eye view, the city would look more like a sea of deep blue amidst the desert, like a mirage. Valtiel reads something from the tour guide and translates a long word into "Blue People".

Shalnark hums a happy tune as the car swerves towards the southern part of the city, near the desert's mountains. He stops the car in front of a temple's yawning mouth, supported at the sides by sandstone rock pillars. The floors are smooth with a flagstone pathway, leading downwards to a black abyss.

"He is here?" Chrollo asks, observing the entire structure.

"Yes. Turns out he is a monk cast away from his home, so he stays here. Shall we?"

"Let's go."

The three of them enter through the high entrance, following the pathway that slopes downwards. Unlike outside, the interior of the temple is cool and soothing. Old desks and bookshelves made from the same sandstone rocks are reduced to rubbles and are littered across the dim room. According to Valtiel's translation of the guide, the place has been abandoned for nearly a hundred years, the government more in favor of funding Desara City's skyscrapers than their scholars' educations.

At the end of the hallway, Shalnark guides them to another hallway, lower and narrower than the previous one. It allows one person to walk at the time, forcing the three of them into one file.

The alleyway stretches for a hundred meters, leading them further underground. Then, they emerge and find themselves in an underground church and cemetery. Gravestones of sandstone rocks stand erected and polished, and carved with the same foreign language. At the head of the chamber, a large altar dominates the northern wall. The wall depicts a sun goddess holding a scepter and a crown in both hands.

"Heh. Took you long enough," Phinks says by way of greeting as he pushes himself off the wall. He wears a white long-sleeve tunic and a red necklace. An elaborate golden snake piece sits not far from him.

"Finally, we can start," Feitan agrees. He sits on the far side of the cemetery, cross-legged over a large mausoleum with wilted flowers on the ground. "Made us wait five hours."

"Come on now. Sheesh!" Shalnark scratches the back of his head. "You know we had to wait for Danchou and Valtiel, right? And give me a break. I was the one driving!"

Feitan's black eyes go from his friend to the young woman. Beneath his skull bandana, he sneers at her traditional Desaran garb. "Oh? She still alive? I thought she be dead after two weeks−or a month at most." He glares at Phinks's direction. "I lost the bet."

Phinks punches the air and whoops. "Hah! Told you she'd last longer! Pay up, Fei!"

Growling, the short thief wires the payment into the other's account. Phinks's phone beeps.

Chrollo holds up a hand, his voice a mixture of confused, aghast and amused. "You bet against each other to see if Valtiel would still be alive?"

"S-Something like that… Danchou…" Phinks rubs his nape, sheepish.

"How much?" Chrollo asks.

"Five million Jenny." Then Phinks hides his face behind a large hand.

"Oh." Chrollo looks back and forth between his ashamed Spiders and an offended Valtiel. He offers her a small, reassuring smile, and then turns to his Spiders with a devious smirk. "You should have informed me. I would have raised the stakes."

"Wha−?!" Valtiel gasps, pounding on his chest. "That's rude!"

Shalnark clutches his stomach as he laughs. "No need to be offended, Val! Turns out, you're tougher than what Feitan gives you credit for! The rest of the Troupe should be impressed!" He checks to see if Feitan is brooding at his loss. He gets a large chunk of gravestone hurled at his direction, and Shalnark dodges to Phinks's side, the both of them laughing like drunkards in a tavern.

Feitan rolls his eyes and digs both hands in his pockets. "Should we going down to business, Danchou?"

"Oh, you're right." The amused smile on Chrollo's face vanishes as he clears his throat and dons a composed demeanor. Dark eyes search through the faces of his Spiders, and then lands on the lone figure hunched underneath the sun goddess's image. "You must be Maxios, am I correct?"

The hunched monk shakes as he desperately tries to lift his chin and look up at the strangers. He wears the same indigo robes, though his veil is a deep shade of gold, draped across his bald head and skeletal body. He has a gold staff laid across his bony knees.

Chrollo steps forward. "Well, are you Maxios?"

"I am," comes the deep, shaky voice. "And you are here to rewrite memories…?"

"Yes." Concerned of the monk's choice of words, the Spider leader glances over his shoulder and finds Valtiel standing between Shalnark and Phinks. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her lips pursed. If he wants to erase that suspicious look on her face, he has to work fast. He kneels before the monk and whispers in his ear, "Can you do such a thing?"

"I used to," Maxios answers. "It brought nothing but hatred and hurt to people."

"Believe me: I have no qualms about hatred or pain." Chrollo grabs the monk by the neck and harshly slams him onto the wall.

Valtiel gasps and rushes to stop him−but Shalnark grabs her wrist and shakes his head.

Chrollo leans his face close to the ancient monk, seeing the break of the old man's skin and his blood to ooze from the cut. He adjusts his thumb, pressing against the faint pulse there. Maxios wheezes and thrashes feebly against the man's hold. With narrowed eyes, Chrollo presses even harder, his nail biting into skin, drawing more blood. "You will do as I say, if you value your life at all."

Maxios wheezes again, reminding the Spiders of a fish out of water. "Yes−" the monk hisses, his small arms wrapped around Chrollo's wrist, clawing at the skin there. "I will− I will do as you s-say−"

Chrollo abruptly drops the monk, watching him squirm and couch on the ground. "Good decision," he commends with an appreciative nod. He doesn't have it all day to negotiate with a stubborn monk. He looks over his shoulder again and meets with Valtiel's displeased face. He ignores her.

"I need the author and the subject seated across from each other," Maxios instructs after he has recovered.

"Looks like you're up, doll face." Phinks leads Valtiel to sit on the ground, while Chrollo sits at arm's length away on the other side, with Feitan standing close behind him.

"Now, I need both of you to relax," the monk says.

Chrollo takes a deep, calming breath. Valtiel is pale and unmoving.

At the center, a white aura engulfs Maxios. The Spiders admire the smooth flow of his aura, while the young woman is as clueless as non-users could get. The aura sends a gust of wind inside the chamber, stirring dust and sand. Slowly, Maxios conjures four items and lays them on the floor in front of him−a book, a fountain pen, balance scale with large glasses, and a needlepoint silver blade. His droopy grey eyes land on the young woman, sensing her discomfort and confusion and feeling already sorry for her.

"First, the author needs to extract the subject's blood," Maxios instructs again.

"W-What for?" Valtiel asks, unable to mask the creeping fear in her voice.

"Everything would be alright," Chrollo assures her and smiles tenderly.

"Take the blade and cut her with it. Anywhere is fine."

With a trained hand, Chrollo reaches out for the blade while Valtiel reluctantly offers her right arm. They stare at each other's eyes for a while, with Chrollo's dark eyes asking for permission and apology. Biting her lower lip, Valtiel gives her consent, trusting him more than she trusts herself.

The slash cuts quick and deep across her wrist. Blood immediately follows, dripping to the sand that licks up every drop like a thirsty quicksand. Maxios catches the next droplets with the book and pulls it back to show Chrollo. The blood twists and forms into familiar symbols−the alphabet−and lists Valtiel's personal information in complete details.

Like a hungry vulture, Chrollo's eyes rake through the information. He carefully avoids reading her real name; to him, she is no one else but Valtiel. Instead, he focuses on other things:

Age: 18

Birthday: November 5

Hair: Platinum blonde

Eyes: Gold (Scarlet)

Blood Type: AB

"This is my ability, called the Lion's Perfect Expressive Power," Maxios explains, not for his benefit, but for theirs, since Feitan points the end of his sword inches from his left ear. He gulps wearily. "I conjure these items that are crucial into rewriting someone's memory. I need two people to do it: the author, who rewrites the memories according to his wishes, and the subject, whose memories are being rewritten."

"Ah, then you're also a Specialist," Chrollo hums.

"Y-Yes, that's right." Maxios peeps at Valtiel, sensing her utter confusion.

"Speak more," Feitan growls, pressing the sword on the skin of the monk's temple.

"The-The author has the freedom to rewrite certain memories of the subject, though a heavy price must be paid by both parties." Maxios gestures at the balance scales with glasses. "The author must pay the price of blood by using the blade to cut himself, and pour his blood into the glass. Once done, you can use the fountain pen and use your own blood to rewrite the memories written in the book."

"Use his own blood as ink?" Phinks snorts. "That's one fucked up ability."

"You'll be fine," Shalnark whispers in Valtiel's ear. "Danchou knows what he's doing."

Does he? Valtiel clutches her bleeding wrist. Chrollo must have a good reason why he needs to rewrite her memories. Perhaps she is too slow in remembering that he has given up on her; found her slow and pathetic that he could no longer bear her scrambling for memories. It is possible. That is why they are now asking this monk's help to regain her lost memories. She searches for Chrollo's eyes and finds them. Do you know what you're doing, Danchou?

Maxios gestures for the book in Chrollo's hand. "It narrates everything about her life, from the moment she is born up to now. The more you want to rewrite the memories, the more you need to pay blood."

"Though it only rewrites memories, not change the past itself?" Chrollo wonders.

"Yes. The past can never be changed, but the memories can."

"So, all Danchou needs to do is put some blood in that glass, then write in the book?" Phinks repeats as he crouches beside Valtiel. His eyes linger on the wounded wrist, stubbornly bleeding onto the sands. "And that makes doll face here free now?"

"By all means, no." Maxios shakes his head apologetically. "She needs to shed the same amount of blood as the author. Whether she is willing to have her memories rewritten or not, she has to pay the price."

Valtiel tenses, gripping her wrist tighter. How long does Danchou intend to do this? She feels a sudden weight on her left shoulder, and looks up at Phinks's face. But he is not looking back at her; he is glaring at the monk. She relishes his presence and leans against him, her shoulder on his arm.

Chrollo's lips spread into a handsome smile as he browses through the written past. He learns of the many aspects of the extinct Kurta culture and traditions, their way of life and family, the secrets shared between family members. He learns that they had always moved from one place to another, throwing the scent of treasure hunters off their Scarlet Eyes. Most importantly, he learns of Valtiel's family−her linguist father, her lost mother, no siblings, and her grandfather, the clan's Elder.

At this piece of information, he stops. The smile vanishes in an instant. He remembers the Elder: how the old man had begged for the children's lives, discarding his own safety. Chrollo admits that the Elder was brave and wise and selfless. To think that Valtiel is actually his granddaughter−Chrollo shakes his head and continues reading.

He reads the part of her early childhood, and takes most of his time there. His eyes linger on every word, committing them in his mind. Then comes Valtiel's teenaged years: the blossoming of her friendship with everyone in the clan, though he notices that she was closest to two boys much younger than she was. Again, he remembers their names−Kurapika and Pairo. Another name comes up−Tokuga−and according to the book he was her intended husband.

Righteous fury bursts out of Chrollo, frowning at the name. Tokuga. Did they kill him? Most likely, though Chrollo wants to feel the pleasure of killing the man, instead of only remembering that he is dead.

Taking up the fountain pen, he turns to Maxios. "What should I do next?"

"Cut yourself with the blade, use the blood as your ink." Maxios gulps again as Feitan's sword presses on his skin. Turning to his right, he meets with Valtiel's terrified look. "Yourself, too, Miss. You have to cut yourself with the same blade."

"Does she have to do it by herself?" Shalnark pipes up.

"Not necessarily. One of you can do it for her."

The three other Spiders shoot each other awkward glances. No one wants to slash deeper on the young woman's skin, not when she is weak and feeble like this. Shalnark feels mean about it, while Phinks feels it would be like bullying a little girl, and that's not him. That leaves only Feitan. The dark-haired thief actually sniggers and flexes his fingers in preparation.

"I will do it," Chrollo interrupts. Feitan's shoulder drops in defeat.

"It will only hurt a little, trust me." Shalnark squeezes Valtiel's free hand as she offers the other to Chrollo.

Their eyes meet again. Gold upon grey. They do not avoid eye contact even as Chrollo embeds the blade deep into her skin, slicing through flesh. Valtiel's arm jerks at the sharp pain; she bites her lip again to keep herself from grunting or crying out. Chrollo guides her arm over the glass and lets the wound bleed freely.

He is dimly aware that he is scarring his own treasure, but what are stolen Nen abilities for if not for this?

Then he does the same to himself, untroubled by neither pain nor worry. His wounded wrist hovers above the glass and waits for it to stop bleeding for a moment. Once it stops, he starts writing on the book's pages.

Maxios nods. "Your blood will overwhelm hers, allowing you to rewrite her memories. The more blood you two sacrifice, the more effective. However, you must remember a human's capacity to shed blood. Extensive rewriting would result in extreme blood loss, or maybe even death."

Chrollo works on the book, writing with swift, elegant strokes. He narrates his childhood memories and adds Valtiel into them, just like the night when he told her that she was also from Meteor City, that she was also their friend. With each memory, he bleeds Valtiel into them−playing hide-and-seek, scouring for leftovers, humming made-up songs, and so forth. He uses his blood to write over the details of her past: her once loving parents and grandfather are turned into nothingness. She is, after all, now an orphan born in Meteor City. He writes his name and the Spiders' name over the names of her closest friends.

The more he writes, the more Valtiel slips into unconsciousness.

Valtiel groans. She clutches at Phinks's arm and buries her face into his sleeve. She pants in ragged breaths, the blood on her wrist continuously flowing, staining her rich indigo robes.

"H-Hey!" Phinks puts an arm around her shoulders, cradling her. He venomously growls at the monk. "What the hell, man?!"

"It is part of the process," Maxios explains with all the calmness he could muster. "The new memories affect the subject, most especially the mind. The mind tries its hardest to keep up with the wave of new memories."

"Oh, I see," Shalnark murmurs.

"What?!" Phinks bellows. "What is it?"

"It's like her brain is losing oxygen, that's why she's losing consciousness." Shalnark nods to Valtiel's pale face and open mouth, which takes heavy breaths. "That, and the fact that she is losing too much blood for an ordinary person."

Feitan scoffs. "Right. She is only ordinary human, after all. Danchou can endure days with extreme blood loss, but this little girl here cannot. She die before we can leave this place." He smiles in triumph. "Phinks, remember the bet. If she die today, I get my five million back."

Phinks snarls. "Fine, I got you, Fei. You and your stupid five million. Geez!"

"Aren't you done yet, Danchou?" Shalnark asks, somewhat concerned now. This is the third time they have to slash across the wrist and drip blood onto the awaiting glasses. He peeps at Valtiel's unmoving figure, still cradled by Phinks. "She's too pale, she's losing a lot of blood."

"Almost done." Chrollo's calm voice does not match the determined expression on his face. His eyebrows are knitted together as his hand writes furiously page after page. Should he lose his ink, he snatches the blade and slashes deeply again. Shalnark then takes the blade to cut deeper onto Valtiel's wrist, while Phinks holds her wound over the glass. "Just a few more…"

"Hurry, young man," Maxios voices out. "She's running out of time."

"How about you shut up?" Feitan hisses.

Chrollo comes to the part where a young boy takes a series of exams. Glancing at Valtiel's condition, he decides to breeze through the details and focuses instead on the night of the massacre. He makes some adjustments, fitting his lies to his words. The next events focus on her and the Spiders. He decides to leave it as it is, and flips the pages to the last ones. He reads the part where the Kakin prince assaulted her. That, too, should stay. Despite everything, pain and fear are good teachers.

The last page consists of today's events, from their departure from the airport to their arrival in the city and meeting the monk. Instead of meeting Maxios, he writes that he and Valtiel merely travelled here to meet with Shalnark's team.

He finishes with a tired sigh and looks expectantly at Maxios.

The monk purses his lips. "It is finished," he says without warmth. He takes the book and the fountain pen from Chrollo, and then the blade from Shalnark. Feitan backs away with his sword. "The changes will take effect in the next twenty four hours. That should be enough time for you lads to take her to a hospital for treatment."

"And Valtiel?" Chrollo prompts. "What happens when she wakes?"

"She will remember everything you have written in the book." He taps the book's hardbound cover. "If you skipped some parts, she would remember those as well. No need to worry. My ability is perfect."

"Tch. You sound too cocky for a monk, you know," Phinks barks at him.

"Oh, there's no doubt in that." Chrollo smiles and turns to Shalnark. "How long has it been since we started?"

Shalnark checks the timer that he has started. "Fifty-six minutes and eighteen seconds."

Chrollo removes the indigo veil around his shoulders and wraps it around his open wound. Once done with that, he envelops himself in aura and conjures a book as well. Maxios cowers underneath him, held back by Feitan around the neck. The short thief forces the monk down with one clawed hand.

"My turn now," Chrollo says. "All I need you do it is put your hand on my book's cover."

"Is this some sort of trick?" Maxios's voice trembles.

"Just do as he says." Feitan's claws dig into his neck. "Hurry up."

Still trembling, Maxios puts his right hand on the book and feels the surge of aura leaving his body. He feels light and rather empty. The conjured items of his abilities vanish into thin air. The sudden hollowness in his body makes his body weak and he falls almost lifelessly to the floor, like a marionette without his puppet master's strings. He opens his mouth to speak, but his voice comes out in a harsh wheeze.

Chrollo smiles down on him as the book disappears in his hand. "Thank you for your cooperation. You should not worry; you are not going to die. The effects should wear off in a few hours."

Shalnark jumps to his feet and stretches his limbs. "Where should we go next, Danchou?"

"The hospital?" Phinks suggests. He carries the unconscious girl in bridal style as Chrollo approaches. The leader's fingers move the veil off her face and brush across her bloodless lips. "Uh−Danchou?"

"Call the others. Tell them the venue for the meet up has changed." Chrollo withdraws his hand and starts walking across the gravestones and towards the alleyway. Feitan ambles behind him. "Tell them we will meet at Desara City at ten in the evening, on New Year's Eve. Anyone whose team member fails to show up would be automatically disqualified from the game."

"Got it, Danchou!" Shalnark sets to work on his phone.

Phinks falls in stride with their leader. "So, what're we gonna do with her?"

Chrollo barely glances at Valtiel. He nods to the other Spider instead. "Feitan, you go ahead to the city and find us some good place to stay. We would wait for you here in an hour."

"I'm on it." With a swish of his dark robes, Feitan is gone.

"So, about the little kiddo here−?" Phinks tries again, shifting the girl in his arms.

"You seem so concerned about her well-being, Phinks," Chrollo observes with a teasing hint in his voice. His dark eyes flash mischievously at his friend. "Is there anything I should know?"

"Wh-Wh-What a-are you suggesting, Danchou?!" Phinks sputters, turning bright red. "I am not concerned about her well-being! N-Not in the slightest! I just don't want to lose my five million back to Fei, okay?!"

Chrollo only chuckles, while Shalnark looks up from his phone and grins.

"Danchou, doesn't he sound like he has a crush on Val?"

"That's true." Chrollo turns his head to hide his snicker. "I'll have you know that I don't tolerate competition, Phinks."

"Oh, my god, you guys," Phinks grumbles.

Author's Notes: Oof. Chrollo takes the word "possessive" to a hundredfold of levels. If given the chance to say something to him, I'd probably say, "I'm worried about you (and probably Val)." Homeboy gotta stop doing some creepy things to people, really.

Also, I most especially enjoyed writing the Trouble Trio here! Shal, Feitan, and Phinks hold a very special place in my heart. It's nice to write them again after a while since their disappearance, and to have them interact with Valtiel again. Shal's in his usualy bubbly self, Fei gotta stop wishing people dead, and Phinks be the forever gentleman in this chaotic group. (－‸ლ)

*xenocanaan - Yay, thank you!

*AwkwardBlackCat - Glad that you think Tserried's portrayal is alright! Chrollo made many miscalculations that night, indeed. He's lost a bit of "Touch Valtiel" privileges for a few nights, but little missy here can't say no to hugs and chocolates. Ugh. Val needs to get her priorities straight!

*Amy - Thank you! And yes, they're getting attached (quite literally) to each other by now. Chrollo seems to have hugs and kisses in plenty this time around. Haha! In fact, it does make me worry. I also hoped you enjoyed the sorta fluff here as well! *wink wonk*

*Mia Mena - Sorry it took some time to update, but here it is! Thank you for taking time to review! I'm very happy to know that someone else enjoys reading this story.

Once again, thank you very much for everyone who's read, favorited/followed. and reviewed this story. It means so much to me, especially with the holidays coming up. Since it's really Christmas season now, this would be the last chapter for some time, seeing as I will be busy for the celebrations. I hope everyone also enjoy their holidays! Have a very merry Christmas, my friends! 🎄❤️