Chapter 77: Defeating the Enemy in Their Area of Expertise
"Do you remember all those people you killed?"
"So you're here for revenge." Phinks on the opposite side tilted his head, looking at Kurapika as he spoke. "I remember some of them. I remember opponents who left an impression."
"Tell me, who are you avenging? Maybe I'll remember."
"The Kurta Clan."
"Doesn't ring a bell." Phinks thought for a moment before speaking.
On the other side, Chrollo turned his gaze over upon hearing Kurapika's words and said, "Phinks, have you forgotten? It's that group with the Scarlet Eyes."
"...I never thought there would be survivors from that clan."
This was the first time since earlier that Chrollo's expression had changed.
"Alright, never mind the others. Let's find a place to have a proper duel." Hisoka interjected.
Seeing Hisoka's eager appearance, Chrollo surprisingly didn't refuse this time. He glanced at Phinks, Bonolenov, and the others.
The Troupe members understood immediately—quickly finish off their opponents and come help.
They were thieves, not martial artists.
They didn't follow that one-on-one duel tradition.
Compared to Hisoka and Kurapika, Mord was completely ignored.
Hisoka's strength had long been recognized by the Troupe members, while Kurapika was noticed because of his killing intent.
It was simply too overwhelming.
Kurapika said with a calm expression, "When you were slaughtering innocent people... what were you thinking? How did it feel?"
As killing intent rose in his heart, murderous aura surged throughout his body, directly pressuring all the Phantom Troupe members.
Such intense killing intent seemed to suddenly drop the temperature in this abandoned building by several degrees. Kortopi, being a non-combat member, even felt a chill in his heart.
"I felt nothing at all." Phinks revealed a cruel smile, staring directly at Kurapika without the slightest fear.
"You scum, atone for your sins with your deaths!"
As soon as the words fell, the chain in Kurapika's hand shot out, directly aiming at Phinks who was closest to him. The distance of over ten meters was covered in an instant.
The chain tore through the air with a piercing whistle, striking fear into one's heart.
As a combat member, Phinks was also battle-hardened. The moment the chain broke through the air, he had already made a judgment.
"This chain cannot be underestimated. Although I don't know the specifics of his ability... one thing is certain—the chain contains Nen, and its power is immense!"
Phinks made his decision instantly. While dodging the chain, he charged straight toward Kurapika.
When facing an opponent with long-range attacks, the best approach is close-quarters combat!
Pakunoda shielded Kortopi behind her while pulling out a pistol, ready to provide support at any moment. Kortopi's ability was indispensable to the Troupe, and protecting his safety was the top priority.
Looking at the person before him, Mord scratched his head and said, "How about we wait until they finish fighting?"
"Don't worry, it'll be over soon. You won't feel any pain." Bonolenov began unwrapping the bandages on his body, revealing his true form.
Beneath the mummy-like bandages lay a lean and terrifying physique.
His entire body, including his face, was covered with holes of varying sizes.
Bonolenov was a descendant of the Gyudondond Tribe, a minority forced to leave their homeland due to human development, living a life of constant displacement.
Men of the Gyudondond Tribe tribe undergo a ritual at the age of three where needles are inserted all over their bodies.
As they grow older, the needles are gradually replaced with thicker rods, and finally fixed with hollow bamboo tubes, wood, or stones.
The people of the Gyudondond Tribe are also known as the Dancing Warriors, Bap.
The holes on their bodies produce varied melodies depending on their size, shape, and the intensity of their movements.
During sacrificial or prayer ceremonies, they serve not only as spiritual mediums but also as musicians.
When fighting against enemy tribes or fierce beasts, they use their bodies to perform the warrior's song, boosting morale and inspiring their people to fight bravely.
They believe that beautiful melodies attract higher-level spirits.
Bonolenov's Nen Ability was developed based on this—"Battle Cantabile," an attack performed through music played with his body.
"Prologue!"
As the music played, Bonolenov materialized his tribe's battle attire, complete with a shamanic mask, feathers on his head, and a long spear in his hand.
"No other choice." Mord opened his right hand, and a Zanpakutō appeared out of thin air, its blade tilted diagonally.
He had originally planned to slack off and take the easy kill.
From a distance, Pakunoda noticed that the moment Mord gripped the sword, his entire aura changed, as if he had become a peerless swordsman.
Bonolenov, standing opposite Mord, naturally felt this even more intensely. He felt as though he was already enveloped in Mord's sword aura, but so what?
"Kill!"
With a light shout, Bonolenov raised his spear and thrust it toward Mord.
The speed of this strike was so fast it was difficult to track with the naked eye.
But Mord was even faster. In an instant, he transformed into a bolt of lightning, using a thrusting technique as well.
Two figures flashed past each other.
Simultaneously, they reappeared.
Crack—
A crisp sound rang out.
The mask manifested on Bonolenov's face cracked, the fissure spreading rapidly like a spiderweb in all directions until it could no longer hold, shattering with a sharp crack to reveal his stunned expression beneath.
A trail of crimson blood seeped from Bonolenov's forehead, trickling down his cheek.
He turned his head, glaring fixedly at Mord, his expression grim. He never imagined he would be defeated in the very domain he excelled at—speed.
"You'll regret this. You could have died without any pain," Bonolenov said, his eyes turning red as he removed the gloves from his hands.
Revealing his sealed hands.
Just as he prepared to dance, a sword aura was already upon him, forcing Bonolenov into a clumsy dodge.
A spray of crimson blood splattered through the air.
Without giving Bonolenov a moment to catch his breath, Mord launched a second wave of attacks. With a light step of his right foot, the ground beneath him shattered instantly, and he transformed into a bolt of lightning, charging straight forward.
In the distance, Pakunoda wanted to assist, but she couldn't keep up with Mord's speed.
And it wasn't just Bonolenov's situation—Phinks' predicament was even worse.
This red-eyed chain-wielding man was actually suppressing Phinks with pure physical combat.
Everything they witnessed tonight was overturning Pakunoda and the others' understanding of the world.
Phinks, a member of the Enhancement-type, had lost in physical combat to a man who wielded chains, likely a Manipulator or Conjurer. And Bonolenov, famed for his attack speed reaching the speed of sound, had been outsped by some unknown young man.
Moreover, the opponent's swordsmanship was so formidable that it felt to her no weaker than Nobunaga's.
When had the Troupe offended such masters? Why, as part of the intelligence unit, did she have no information about them at all?