The floor where Chrollo and Hisoka were fighting had devolved into complete chaos.
With no referee or restrictions left, the two had shifted their battlefield from the ring straight into the crowd.
The spectators were out of luck.
Chrollo first used Gallery Fake to place antennae on two audience members, controlling them to stall Hisoka. Then, using Convert Hands, he swapped faces with one of the spectators and slipped into the crowd unnoticed.
After that, he activated Order Stamp on the fake corpses he created using Gallery Fake—duplicates of people Hisoka had already killed, and of himself—building a small army of puppet bodies.
He mingled with these puppets in disguise and used Sun and Moon to inscribe explosive seals onto many of them.
While Hisoka was busy dodging and destroying puppet after puppet, Chrollo continued mass-producing them.
The fakes weren't easy to destroy completely. Even when Hisoka blew them apart, more kept coming, swarming him and interrupting his attacks. His kill rate couldn't keep up with Chrollo's creation rate.
The tables turned fast.
And once they got close to Hisoka, the puppets detonated—exploding all at once, inflicting significant damage.
"Looks like that's the end of Hisoka~"
Shalnark glanced down at the arena in disarray, Hisoka darting and weaving through the puppet swarm, and couldn't help but shake his head as he commented.
As if on cue, a powerful explosion rang out. Hisoka was blasted into the air, crashing to the center of the arena floor.
His left arm and right leg had been blown off. The aura wrapped around his body was fading rapidly.
Even so, Chrollo didn't let his guard down. He followed the plan he had meticulously crafted, issuing precise orders to the remaining puppets.
Suddenly, they surged toward Hisoka like a tidal wave.
Just a moment before they reached him, Hisoka's expression twisted strangely. He curled up, enveloping himself in a dense layer of aura, as if activating something deep within.
The next instant—An earth-shattering explosion.
Thick, black smoke engulfed the entire arena floor.
...
"Let's go meet the boss~"
Shalnark glanced once at the chaos below—crowds in a panic, screams ringing out—then turned and began walking toward the exit with the others.
"Clinging to life, even in death?"
Watching Shalnark and the others leave, Ronnel chuckled to himself.
He opened his hand.
Two tiny drops of blood glistened in his palm—samples he'd discreetly collected during Chrollo and Hisoka's fight, using a clone.
...
Due to the explosion, Heavens Arena was soon surrounded by fire brigades and ambulances.
News reporters arrived quickly, broadcasting live coverage:
"In today's match, a large number of casualties were reported—including participant Hisoka. The full extent of the injuries and deaths is still being investigated."
The damage was substantial. While many of the bodies were fakes, plenty of real spectators were caught in the crossfire between Hisoka and Chrollo.
The Sun and Moon explosions alone claimed numerous lives.
After this mess, Heavens Arena would definitely have to beef up crowd protection policies...
Not to mention compensation claims and medical expenses for the victims. The public backlash alone was going to hurt.
...
After the battle, Ronnel, Shalnark, and the others regrouped with Chrollo.
"You all go check on Hisoka's corpse. I'm going to rest."
Chrollo was drained. The battle had cost him tremendous amounts of aura and concentration. By the end, over two hundred puppet corpses had detonated.
Even he needed to breathe.
"How many of us should go?" Kortopi asked, looking worriedly at Chrollo's pale face.
"Machi and I can handle it. You guys stay with the leader," Ronnel said, seemingly casually.
"Hm, makes sense. Even if Hisoka somehow survived, he'd be in no shape to fight. You two should be more than enough," Shalnark replied after a pause, nodding in agreement.
Chrollo was always accompanied by at least two members of the Phantom Troupe as a rule. Previously, it had been Kortopi and Pakunoda. Now it was temporarily Shalnark and Kortopi.
So with Shalnark's approval, neither Machi nor Kortopi raised objections.
But none of them realized how this seemingly simple decision would alter their lives forever.
As Kortopi and Shalnark followed Chrollo off the floor, Ronnel's lips curled into a faint smile.
"We've worked together for quite some time. You lent me your abilities, so this is my parting gift. Looks like you took the bait~"
If Shalnark and the others had accepted Ronnel's earlier suggestion, they might have avoided disaster.
Since they didn't, well—it was their choice.
Whether they lived or died after this, Ronnel didn't care.
...
"What are you staring at? Let's go," Machi said, arms crossed. She gave Ronnel a quick glance, then turned and headed toward the arena floor.
"Coming."
Ronnel snapped out of it and followed her.
When someone dies, you need to see the body for yourself.
...
At the entrance to the combat floor, they spotted Hisoka being carried away on a stretcher.
After dismissing the medical staff with a few quick words, the two of them began inspecting Hisoka's condition.
"Not as bad as I expected," Machi muttered.
His body looked like it had been torn apart by explosives—his face was a mess, limbs missing.
She spoke coldly, her tone as flat as ever.
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Fanfic is completed on patreon.com/FanficsHub (799 chapters in total)