Chapter 75: We Are the Phantom Troupe
In the central Yorknew City, the grand hall of the Cemetery Building was brightly lit.
The Shadow Beasts had gathered together to discuss the possibility of the Phantom Troupe attacking the auction tonight.
"Why are we one person short? Where's Bat?" asked a greasy middle-aged man with a center-parted hairstyle, glancing at the people around the conference table in the hall.
"I heard he was defeated in Jappon," replied a thin man with a spiky hairstyle, casually crossing his legs.
"What a disgrace to our Shadow Beasts, dying in a country like that. I don't think they even have any proper Nen users there," sneered a short, chubby man with adorable porcupine-like eyes sitting opposite the thin man.
"Alright, Fish and Porcupine, that's enough. The boss is here."
No sooner had the words been spoken than a tall man wearing sunglasses and flip-flops walked into the conference room.
This was Owl, the leader of the Shadow Beasts organization.
Owl looked at the Shadow Beasts members and adjusted his glasses before speaking. "I assume everyone knows the situation. The old men have called all of us here this time to deal with the Phantom Troupe problem."
"Boss, since we arrived, they haven't made a move for two days. What if they just keep hiding?" asked Leech.
"Hmph, they must have heard we're here. If any of us had been around before, we wouldn't have let them act so arrogantly," said Worm, who looked like an inhuman monster.
"Don't worry, they'll definitely show up again. Remember, they're a band of thieves," Owl said with a laugh.
"Boss, are you saying their target is the treasures from the underground auction? What treasure are they after?" asked a member.
"If they dare show up tonight, I'll smash them all into pulp," growled another member, fiercely waving his fist.
Seeing this reaction, the Shadow Beasts members exchanged glances and laughed. "Well, they'd actually have to show up first."
Anyone with half a brain wouldn't choose to come tonight.
After all, the entire underground auction venue had already been turned into an inescapable net, waiting for the Phantom Troupe to arrive.
"Boom!"
Amid the cheerful laughter, a loud noise suddenly echoed through the building, making the entire auction building shake. A mafia member ran in, his face full of terror. "They're here... the Phantom Troupe is here!"
...
Cemetery Building, first floor, underground auction hall.
"The security is really tight," remarked Baise.
Shachmono glanced over with a light chuckle, "That's only natural. You have to understand, most of the attendees at this auction are prominent figures within their organizations—some bosses have even come in person."
"Knowing the Phantom Troupe might launch an attack, they still show up themselves. Aren't they afraid of dying? It's just an auction—they could've sent someone to represent them."
Baise couldn't quite grasp the logic behind these underworld bosses' actions.
"You're not part of the underworld, so it's normal you don't understand," Shachmono explained. "This isn't just an ordinary auction venue—it's actually a stage for flaunting prestige and saving face."
"The winning bidder must pay five percent of the auction price to the organizers, who happen to be the Ten Dons, the pinnacle of the underground criminal world."
"In other words, this is where various organizations demonstrate their annual achievements to their superiors. It's a chance to curry favor while boosting their reputation across the global underworld. For leaders of smaller syndicates, this rare opportunity makes them eager to attend personally."
"As for the Phantom Troupe—if any organization's executive or boss were too frightened by some so-called thief group to attend the auction, they'd become a laughingstock. Not only would they be ridiculed, but their entire organization would lose face throughout the underworld."
Such were the rules of the underground world.
Foolish men, Baise cursed inwardly. She couldn't care less about this so-called "face." She'd become a bodyguard for the Nostrade family purely for money—but no amount of money was worth dying for.
At the first sign of real danger, she'd flee immediately.
Just then, Baise suddenly heard heavy, rhythmic footsteps approaching from the distance, like some ferocious beast.
She lifted her head toward the main entrance.
The sound was coming from beyond the door.
Before the massive locked iron gate, a dozen gang members stood guard, trembling as they stared at the door while listening to the terrifying footsteps.
The sealed iron gate provided them no sense of security whatsoever.
BOOM!
A tremendous impact left a huge dent in the massive door. This gate was constructed with military-grade materials capable of withstanding grenade blasts.
Yet now, under some unknown assault, the entire structure shook violently. Rubble crumbled from around the frame as if some monstrous creature were trying to break through.
The gang members raised their submachine guns, staring fixedly at the door, not daring to even breathe heavily.
KABOOM!
Another colossal impact sent the entire gate flying inward. As it crashed down, several unfortunate guards standing directly in its path were instantly crushed into pulp.
"AHHHHHHH!"
The moment the gate collapsed, their strained nerves finally snapped.
Spurred by the bloodshed, the remaining gang members screamed to mask their terror, reflexively squeezing their triggers and firing wildly into the dust-choked doorway.
Rat-tat-tat-tat—
Amid the spraying gunfire, countless bullets poured forward, only to produce metallic clanging sounds as they struck something.
When their magazines emptied, they instinctively lowered their weapons, staring dumbfounded at the entrance. Under such concentrated firepower, even a dinosaur should have been riddled with holes.
No matter how powerful the Phantom Troupe might be, they were ultimately still human. They should be dead by now.
From within the dust and smoke, a tall figure stepped forward.
"...Monster! M-monster!" A gang member's face was filled with terror as he clearly saw the newcomer, but his words were abruptly cut off. A large hand reached out from the smoke and directly grabbed his head.
The hardest bone in the human body—the skull—was crushed like a watermelon by that large hand, bursting open.
White brain matter mixed with crimson blood splattered across the ground.
"So this is the underground auction venue. Your gang's hospitality doesn't seem very welcoming." Uvogin emerged from the smoke, grinning ferociously at the gang members before him.
Behind Uvogin's tall figure, several other forms gradually became visible.