Chapter 76: The Worst Possible Situation
"Uvogin, thanks to you being our meat shield, we made it through unscathed." Shalnark stepped out from behind Uvogin, patting his shoulder as he spoke with a laugh.
"Who told him to have the strongest body in the Troupe? Ordinary firearms can't even scratch him." Feitan remarked.
Shalnark's words were naturally in jest. With each member of their Troupe possessing monstrous abilities, even without Uvogin, these ordinary firearms wouldn't have harmed them in the slightest.
As the dust settled, the gang members realized there were no ancient beasts standing at the entrance—only five people.
A tall muscular man, a refined and handsome scholarly-looking man, a short-statured man, a samurai, and a girl with long pink hair.
The tall muscular man was obviously monstrously strong, but aside from him, only the sword-carrying samurai seemed somewhat dangerous. The other three gave off no sense of threat at all.
Seeing this, the gang bodyguards' fear noticeably diminished. Someone shouted loudly: "There are only five of them! Let's rush them together! The higher-ups said there's a 1 billion bounty per head!"
Clearly, the gang leadership hadn't yet realized how terrifying the Phantom Troupe truly was, offering a mere 1 billion bounty per head.
Dozens of gang members immediately surrounded them.
Uvogin watched them approach, not turning his head, a cruel glint in his eyes.
"Leave them all to me. It's been too long since I've had a proper massacre."
Shalnark, Feitan and the others exchanged glances, then flashed away to stand aside.
Though they appeared relaxed, they remained fully alert to their surroundings—not only wary of the gang's strongest force, the Shadow Beasts, but more importantly, guarding against potential surprise attacks from hidden third parties.
Watching over a dozen gang members charging forward with various firearms and weapons, Uvogin showed no fear, letting out a wild laugh as he lunged toward them.
A single man fighting barehanded, like a wolf among sheep.
Heads kept bursting open like watermelons, crimson blood gushing out as if it cost nothing.
The auction hall's red carpet was stained a dark crimson.
"Like a gorilla fighting ants..." Nobunaga commented.
When it comes to the entire Phantom Troupe, the person who understands Uvogin's strength best is none other than Nobunaga.
As Uvogin's partner, Nobunaga's assessment of him can be summed up in one word: strong!
No flashy tricks, just absolute, undeniable strength.
Bang!
Amidst countless gunshots, a distinct gunshot rang out.
Uvogin's head jerked sideways as if struck by tremendous force.
But that was all—not even his skin was broken.
"...Oof, that stung a bit. A sniper rifle?" Uvogin looked upward, locking onto the sniper's position on the eighth floor.
"Heh, I've always hated bastards who hide in the shadows to hurt people." A ferocious grin spread across Uvogin's face as he ripped a gangster's head off with his bare hands and hurled it like a baseball toward the eighth floor.
Boom!
Infused with Uvogin's Nen, the head struck like a cannonball, blasting through the eighth-floor exterior wall and obliterating half of the unlucky sniper's body.
This was Uvogin's violent aesthetic.
"Is... is this even human?!"
Tanking sniper rounds, tearing people apart like paper—to ordinary people, this defied human limits.
Many of the bodyguards hired by the criminal syndicates were also Nen users, yet none dared confront Uvogin.
The sheer volume of terrifying aura radiating from his body made it clear they were not on the same level.
"They're here." In the distance, Feitan suddenly looked up and spoke.
The syndicate members grew restless, parting to make way as five Shadow Beasts members swaggered toward Uvogin with arrogant strides.
Shalnark counted them off.
"Weren't there supposed to be ten Shadow Beasts? Where are the others?"
"The boss took the others to wait for you at the treasury," Fish said, hands in pockets, eyeing the Troupe members. "Your diversionary tactics and feints were seen through from the start."
...
"Feints."
Yorknew City, derelict old district.
Chrollo sat atop a pile of rubble, watching the two figures who had suddenly appeared before him. "I've been thinking—if those hiding in the shadows truly target our Troupe, they wouldn't miss this opportunity."
"So you've been waiting here for us?" Mord chuckled lightly.
The situation couldn't be worse. Two combat specialists, Phinks and Bonolenov, were present, along with Pakunoda and Kortopi.
"Keeping so many members by your side—aren't you afraid something might happen to those participating in the Yorkshin operation?"
Chrollo replied, "They've long been prepared for that possibility. And..."
"My comrades are very strong."
Mord glanced at Hisoka, who—seeing the situation turning sour—was pretending not to know Mord and the others.
"Hisoka, if you don't make a move now, I'm leaving. Everything I've done, risking life and limb, was for you," Mord declared.
This instantly put Hisoka on the spot, framing him as the mastermind behind the scenes.
The moment these words were spoken, every Phantom Troupe member except Chrollo wore expressions of shock, immediately adopting defensive stances.
Phinks, face contorted with rage, roared, "So it was you who leaked the Troupe's movements! We never should've let you join!"
Chrollo showed little change in expression at this outcome. He looked at Hisoka and said calmly, "Is your purpose in doing this still to duel me?"
Seeing things had reached this point, Hisoka simply stopped hiding. He stood up and took off his shirt.
"My initial reason for joining the Troupe... no, I should say my purpose in pretending to join was precisely for this."
"I know the Troupe's rules—members cannot fight among themselves."
As he spoke, Hisoka reached behind his back.
With a pull, to everyone's astonishment, he actually removed the spider tattoo from his back.
He casually tossed the thin paper aside, looked up at Chrollo, and revealed a smile.
"Now this doesn't count as infighting. We can duel without worries!"
On the other side, Kurapika could no longer suppress the anger in his heart. A cold killing intent emanated from him.
If Hisoka's killing intent was evil, then Kurapika's killing intent was the purest form of murderous aura.
He stared fixedly at Chrollo and the others, saying, "Do you remember all those people you killed?"