Chapter 869
"No interest."
Faced with their invitation, Machi rejected them outright.
Given the current status of their trio, there was no need to compromise with anyone. These people had nothing Machi's group needed. With Ron's presence alone, the safety of all three was guaranteed.
But the Phantom Troupe was a different matter.
Among the forces exploring the Dark Continent, the Phantom Troupe's position was precarious. Trading with Machi might allow them to obtain some information about the Dark Continent—but it would never be much.
Not only did Machi herself know little about it, even if she somehow knew everything Ron knew, she would never hand it over to the Troupe in a simple exchange.
Machi had emotional ties to the Phantom Troupe. But she also knew exactly where she stood now.
"Any of you interested?"
Chrollo looked toward the others.
At this point, the "Training Session" was over. The Troupe had finished their sparring with Machi's trio, and the three returned to the second floor.
Kurapika was the first to raise his hand.
"I am."
Feitan and Phinks stepped forward together.
"That sparring was boring as hell," Phinks said. "We just want to blow off steam. If we accept their invitation, we'll probably get some real action. I can't wait to go all out."
He rubbed his knuckles.
Aside from the fight with Misty, nothing had interested Phinks.
Battles with Ponzu and Machi had left him frustrated. One was a Transmuter using Nen threads. The other a Manipulator.
Phinks felt like his fists had only landed on cotton.
The entire session was just him getting beaten up. Every time he found an opening or gained an advantage, the other side would just call for a stop—whenever they pleased.
It left Phinks seething.
Had the situation been different—any other time or place—he would've exploded already. Now, he just wanted a proper release.
Feitan felt the same, though his methods differed.
Phinks wanted to punch someone so hard their skull caved in. Feitan preferred dragging someone into a dark corner and torturing them, testing their pain tolerance and breaking their mind.
The more resilient the victim, the more excited Feitan became.
In that regard, Feitan was a twisted sadist through and through.
"Count me in."
Nobunaga was the last to step forward.
Franklin, Pakunoda, and Hooker made no move.
Their personalities gave them little interest in killing.
Pakunoda, especially, preferred to remain close to Chrollo. With the situation on the Black Whale still tense, she worried that Tserriednich might try something. If that happened, she could step in and protect Chrollo.
She knew she wasn't as strong as him, but even slowing an enemy for a moment would be enough to give Chrollo a chance to escape. That was enough for her.
Hooker had joined the Troupe after arriving at Meteor City. And going to Meteor City had only been about surviving.
What Hooker really wanted was a normal life. But now that he was part of the Troupe, a return to ordinary living was no longer possible.
Even so, he had no particular love for fighting or killing.
Feitan, Phinks, Nobunaga, and Kurapika left together.
From the shadows, a figure watched them with disappointment in his eyes.
"How unfortunate."
It was Hisoka.
He was interested in the Dark Continent, and boarding the Black Whale was inevitable.
Even after leaving the Phantom Troupe, Hisoka had not fully lost interest in Chrollo—it was just that no opportunity had come. That was the only reason he hadn't stayed with them.
Feitan and the others leaving made him think there might be an opening. But the fact that Franklin and the rest remained forced him to give up the idea.
It wasn't fear that stopped him.
It just wasn't what he wanted.
"Maybe killing a prince with my own hands… would be a fun experience?"
Hisoka's eyes narrowed slightly.
He looked up at the ceiling, as if his gaze could pierce through and see the first floor.
A figure had entered directly into First Prince Benjamin's territory.
An assassination attempt—on the surface.
But from Ron's perspective, it looked more like a calculated retreat masked as aggression.
The figure marched straight into Benjamin's zone, only to be intercepted by one of Benjamin's private guards. They fought. The infiltrator was killed.
But that was exactly when Camilla's ability activated.
Million Lives Cat.
Nen born from death was stronger than from life.
Without a sound, her aura appeared behind the guard and, with a single strike, killed him before he could react.
Then it returned to Camilla's corpse and injected life energy.
Camilla revived.
Benjamin did not attempt to kill her again. Instead, he had her imprisoned.
Before this, Camilla had recruited a group she called the "Unforgiven"—people from the lower rungs of society.
She had drawn their loyalty and, through a strange ritual, gained cursed power.
This curse was formidable.
Camilla could have stayed hidden and used it from the shadows, letting the other princes eliminate each other. But instead, she exposed herself and tried to assassinate Benjamin directly.
Why?
She had no affinity for direct combat. This approach made no sense.
Unless... she had a hidden purpose.
Because of Morena, Ron had done some research into Camilla. She wasn't simple.
To do something she was bad at, and even reveal her ability in the process—there had to be a reason.
Most likely, she believed that being imprisoned by Benjamin was the safest place she could be for now.
Camilla had probably sensed that something—or someone—on Floor 4.1 posed a threat to her.
And she was making a move to avoid it.
The succession war was gradually becoming clearer.
The higher-ranked princes—Benjamin, Zhang Lei, Tserriednich—held a significant advantage on paper.
But the lower-ranked princes weren't without hope.
Ninth Prince Halkenburg had many of the others wary.
And Seventh Prince Luzurus was the only lower-ranked prince receiving help from one of Kakin's three major mafia families.
Those mafia groups weren't fools. They wouldn't back a hopeless cause.
Suddenly, a sharp scream rang out.
People nearby turned their heads.
A terrified figure stumbled out of a room, fell backwards, and collapsed to the ground.
"This is bad!"
"The prince is dead!"