Chapter 86: Chrollo's Decision
The news Shalnark brought back from Southernpiece confirmed Chrollo's suspicions.
The pair of Scarlet Eyes scheduled for tomorrow's auction had been pulled from the catalog. The buyer? One of the Ten Dons.
But Chrollo, having deciphered Ronin and Kurapika's recent maneuvers, knew better. The eyes hadn't been bought by a Don; they had been seized by Ronin, who was currently wearing a Don's skin.
With the authority of a Ten Don, Ronin could effortlessly bypass the public bidding and scoop up the remaining eyes from the Mafia's secondary vaults as well.
Chrollo briefly considered if the Troupe should use Shalnark's Black Voice to find a Don and puppet him to gain the same status.
The answer was a swift no.
He understood the secret to Ronin's deception. It wasn't just manipulation; it was the ability to create physical clones and change their appearance. Ronin could become the Don, not just control him.
Chrollo's gaze drifted to Bonolenov, who lay mangled and flayed nearby.
The Troupe had the capacity for such an operation, but it didn't fit the "Thief's Way." More importantly, Bonolenov's condition was critical. Survival and recovery took priority over political theater.
Furthermore, the actual benefits of being a Don were negligible for the Spider.
Money? They could take it.
Information? They had Shalnark.
Status? Their reputation as Class-A bounties was far more effective at inspiring the kind of fear they needed.
"We've become reactive," Chrollo said, his voice calm but heavy with contemplation.
Since arriving in Yorknew, they had been kited. Every move they made felt like they were being led by the nose by an invisible string.
Even their most recent ambush was anticipated. They had cornered Ronin, only to be forced into a retreat by a perfectly timed mercenary intervention.
Ronin—or rather, the tactician beside him—was consistently one step ahead.
While Kurapika's fixation on a "fair fight" or "asking why" might be naive, his strategic planning was elite, far exceeding Ronin's own raw combat-focused mind.
Chrollo was still pondering the eyes. Was the secret truly a "Cursed Artifact" from the Dark Continent, or was there another variable?
He hadn't spent enough time studying the occult properties of the Kurta bloodline to be certain. But the sinister, bottomless aura radiating from Ronin's mutated eyes suggested something far more ominous than a standard bloodline limit.
"Ronin knows our abilities. One could argue he saw them during the massacre, but it goes deeper than that. He knows our behavior. He knows our patterns. This shouldn't be possible," Chrollo noted another anomaly.
"I'm heading back to Nancha City," Chrollo announced, deciding to break the cycle of pursuit.
He needed to understand the Kurta Clan at their roots. To defeat Ronin, he needed a counter-measure for those eyes.
Omokage would have been the perfect weapon, but the puppet master had been too impatient and paid for it with his life.
"Are we abandoning the search for the eyes?" Shalnark asked, surprised by the sudden shift.
If Chrollo left, the Troupe's leadership would be split. Without the Head, the legs might struggle to coordinate against a strategist of Kurapika's caliber.
Only Chrollo had the consistent insight to peel back Ronin's deceptions. And only Chrollo's book could provide the versatile counters needed to neutralize Ronin's "Spatial Stasis" or the "Four Violet Flames."
"Yes," Chrollo nodded. "We will yield the sixteen scattered pairs to Ronin. We only need to defend the final eleven."
"For now, we prioritize safety over aggression. We don't ambush him; we avoid his traps. Everyone, wait for my return."
Chrollo sensed the danger of continuing this dance on Ronin's terms.
Ronin was currently in his prime growth phase. Every pair of eyes he absorbed narrowed the gap. He was already capable of killing a Spider one-on-one. If he got two or three more pairs, he might be able to take on two or three Spiders at once.
If Ronin secured all sixteen pairs, his power would reach a level that defied calculation.
Chrollo knew some members wouldn't like the decision to "flee," but he didn't care.
The Spider wasn't a dictatorship, but the Head's job was to ensure the body survived. If they wanted to act on their own, they had to accept the consequences.
Chrollo departed, taking Pakunoda, Kortopi, and Franklin with him to investigate the Kurta ruins.
The remaining members stayed in Yorknew, but they didn't remain idle.
"I'm still going after a pair or two," Machi said, her eyes fixed on Shalnark. "Even if it only slows him down slightly, or gives us a hostage to use against him, it's worth the effort."
She looked at the "Brains" of the group. "I need your help. You're the only one who can track the market without walking us into another sniper's crosshairs."
Nobunaga silently moved to stand behind Machi.
Bonolenov spoke through his bandages, his voice a painful rasp. "Shalnark... I need that lead you found."
Shalnark nodded to Machi first, then turned to the flayed warrior. "I'll help both of you. Bonolenov, the key to your recovery is definitely in Greed Island."
"I'll take you there," Feitan interjected. "We'll just steal the game from Southernpiece. And didn't the Boss mention Ronin might be interested in it too?"
"Maybe he was wrong about that specific point, but we can't let our guard down," Shalnark warned.
"Don't worry," Phinks stepped up. "I'm going with them."
The remaining ten members quickly organized into sub-units.
The death of Isley (#8) hadn't hindered them; it was just a cold transaction they had failed to prevent.
Shalnark, however, was still thinking about the "Ghost Thief" who had emptied the Mafia vault on the 1st. With so many vacancies in the Troupe, if that person's strength matched their utility, they might make a decent replacement candidate for Chrollo to consider.
Even if their raw power was low, a spatial ability that could ghost a maximum-security vault was a treasure in itself.
It was time for the Spider to start spinning a new web.
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