"If this were a scene in a manga panel..."
Luke rubbed his chin as he walked forward. "It would be like that time in Yorknew City..."
"When Chrollo fought the two Zoldyck Family assassins, Silva and Zeno."
But Kute was not Chrollo.
And Luke and Chrollo were not Silva and Zeno; they didn't care what state Kute was in.
Their aura was already fully tense and prepared.
As the two of them drew closer to the figure that might be Kute…
"So someone still managed to track me here?"
A calm, emotionless voice came from the figure ahead.
"I already instructed them to intercept outsiders as much as possible. They couldn't manage even that?"
"And Kakradi's so-called mirror domain that he keeps boasting about... As expected, such Nen ability is unreliable."
The voice was flat, without fluctuation, as if he had anticipated every possible outcome.
Even his subordinates' failure didn't seem unexpected.
However… Luke and Chrollo both sensed something odd.
It did not sound like someone who had foreseen everything; it felt more like even he hadn't expected this.
But the way he spoke carried no trace of human emotion.
It was almost like... a machine.
Tak. Tak. Tak.
As the thought flashed in both their minds, they heard a faint mechanical sound near their ears.
Like gears turning.
And the sound... was coming from Kute.
Before Luke and Chrollo could question it, the seated figure slowly stood up.
He turned, facing the two of them.
His appearance finally became clear.
He wore a simple linen shirt like something from the 19th century, with ordinary trousers.
If he were wearing straw sandals, he'd look like a commoner from 19th-century Western Europe.
However, this contrasts sharply with his face.
It was the face of a middle-aged man, his proportionate build neither handsome nor unsightly.
If thrown into a crowd, no one would guess he was a world-renowned thief.
He would appear more like a worker from a steel factory.
Yet it was as if there was something different about him.
In his right eye socket, a bronze prosthetic eye, composed of three hundred tiny gears, was embedded.
And the mechanical sound Luke and Chrollo heard earlier came from that eye.
"So it's really him."
Chrollo nodded. "Rumor has it that in the early days, at the scene of Kute's crimes."
"People always heard faint gear-turning sounds."
"Later, that sound was called the sound of fate turning."
"Or the countdown before Kute stole something."
"That rumor circulated for a very long time."
Chrollo had studied many legends about Kute. Now, seeing the man in person, everything suddenly made sense.
"But in recent years, that rumor faded."
"At the recent crime scenes, people said the gear sound had stopped completely."
"So many believed something happened to Kute, or that he no longer acted personally..."
Chrollo glanced at Kute's left hand.
"Now we can be sure it's the latter."
"And not because Kute encountered trouble, but because—"
Reflected in Chrollo's eyes was the strange, glowing prism-shaped stone in Kute's left hand.
"He's planning something else, something far more important."
Not only Chrollo's, but Luke's eyes were glued to the stone.
It wasn't just the strange glow.
Beneath that glow, the stone released an ominous, malevolent aura.
That stone... was absolutely not a good thing.
"I was born in a clock shop. My parents were both watch repairers."
Kute looked at Luke and Chrollo and began speaking again, his voice still flat and mechanical: "At first, I had no other thoughts. Since childhood, I diligently followed behind my father, learning to repair all kinds of clocks and pocket watches."
"Until one day, I suddenly awakened my aura, and I saw... a thin layer of light covering certain old pocket watches."
"After asking my father, I learned those old watches were worth much more."
"I didn't tell anyone what happened to me."
"At the time, I only thought I had found a path to get rich."
Born with his aura awakened?
Luke and Chrollo weren't surprised.
There were always people with absurd natural talent.
Some awakened Nen and were immediately powerful, like Neon from the Nostrade family.
Being able to see an aura lingering on objects allowed him to pinpoint valuable items.
Gon and Killua used the same method in Yorknew City's antique market to find treasures and make a quick profit.
Kute, who could see aura since childhood and worked with clocks, naturally found a way to amass wealth.
"From that day on, I no longer cared about watchmaking."
Still expressionless, Kute continued: "I wandered through antique shops, buying and reselling valuable items."
"And I did make a lot of money."
"But I was still a child."
"A child who could somehow find valuable items with uncanny precision..."
"Naturally, I drew some attention."
"And one night, I still remember that moment clearly."
Even though he was talking about something unforgettable, his tone should have been more emotional, but Kute remained completely unfazed: "I was happily counting the coins I had earned. My parents were preparing dinner."
"We had planned to eat roast chicken that night."
"My father was holding the chicken he bought, ready to pluck the feathers and bleed it."
"I saw blood spilling on the floor."
"But—"
"That blood belonged to my father."
"Immediately after, my mother screamed. The sound hurt my ears."
"But soon, the screaming stopped."
"When I ran over, I saw my father and mother lying in a pool of blood."
Clearly, this is the classic case of a man who is innocent, but carrying a priceless treasure makes him guilty.
Or you could also say it's like a child waving a bar of gold in a crowded marketplace.
Kute fits both scenarios.
He clearly had an ability that could change his family's life for the better, yet that ability instead became the scythe that indirectly brought about their deaths.
Not everyone is like Neon, born into privilege, protected by a powerful mafia family.
For someone like Kute, who came from an ordinary background… The impact of that scene on him at such a young age can only be imagined.
"At that time, my family situation wasn't good, but it wasn't bad either. But I had a father and mother who loved me very much."
"And I will never forget the sight and the expression on their faces as they lay in a pool of blood."