Hunter x Gotham

 Hisoka's senses flickered awake, dragged from the void of death into something strange, something new.

BANG!

 Hisoka looks behind him to see two gangsters shooting some random man, and laughing manically. 

 Sirens echoed, he looked to his right and saw a police car swerving, he thought that now that cops are here, a gunfight will break so he stood still, not because he was afraid; he can stop the bullets if he wants to, but he just wanted too see how this unfolds. Three individuals jumped off the car and started celebrating with the other two, shooting their guns in the air.

  Lauging.

 The distant, manic laughter of someone who sounded far too entertained by violence. The air smelled of gasoline, filth, and something metallic—blood, but not his own. He exhaled slowly, his lungs adjusting to this unfamiliar space.

 His fingers twitched, brushing against cold pavement. Not my usual silk gloves. Hisoka sat up, scanning his hands—pale as ever, but no playing card tattoo, no remnants of the body he had honed for years. His nails were still sharp, but unpainted. And his hair… He pulled a strand forward. Dark. Not purple. It was longer, falling past his shoulders in loose waves.

 He smirked. How interesting.

 Hisoka rose to his feet, taking stock of his body. Not weak, not strong—lean but efficient. My essence remains, but something is different. He moved his fingers, feeling the absence of something vital.

Nen.

 He reached inward, expecting that familiar hum of power, the resistance of aura flowing through him. Faint. Weak. And getting Weaker

 Hisoka's grin widened. How delightful.

 A gust of wind carried the sound of heavy boots crunching against the pavement. Hisoka turned, the group of men he saw before are coming towards him. Wearing thick coats, having deep and ugly scars, guns tucked into their belts. Their faces were a blend of caution and amusement.

 "Well, well," the largest of them drawled, his voice thick with amusement. "Look what we got here, boys. Some lost pretty boy just wanderin' 'round like he owns the place."

 Hisoka tilted his head. "Hmm~ And where exactly is 'this place'?" His voice still held its lilting, playful quality, though it felt sharper.

 The man frowned. "Wow...This man is LOST, you're in Gotham, freak. And this is Penguin's territory. You don't walk through here without paying a toll."

 Another thug, younger, smirked. "Let's see what he's got, eh?"

 The leader grinned, stepping closer. "Smart kid. Let's start with those fancy clothes. Hand 'em over."

 Hisoka giggled. "Oh? And if I don't?"

 The leader clicked his tongue, pulling a switchblade. "Then we take 'em off you."

 The rest of the gang chuckled, one even pulling a revolver. Unimaginative. Predictable. But there was one thing that intrigued him—none of them exuded Nen. Not even the faintest spark. No Ren, no Zetsu, nothing. This world… doesn't have it.

 Hisoka sighed. "No Nen. No fun."

The leader blinked. "What the hell's a Nen—"

 Hisoka moved.

 He flowed forward, stretching his fingers unnaturally wide. The leader barely had time to react before Hisoka's hand snapped around his wrist then...

* Crack!*

 The knife clattered to the pavement as the leader screamed, his wrist bent at an impossible angle.

 The others reacted fast—too slow. Hisoka twisted the man's arm, swinging him into one of the men like a human club. A gunshot rang out, missing Hisoka by inches.

 Hisoka giggled, slipping past the bullet's path with unnatural ease. His body lacked Nen, but his instincts, his technique—those remained.

 The thug with the revolver stumbled backward, trying to reload. Hisoka flicked his fingers, and the man screamed as Hisoka jabbed two fingers into his eye socket, hooking deep.

 "Shhh~ No struggling." Hisoka whispered, twisting his fingers.

The man dropped, clutching his ruined eye.

 Three left.

 One swung a crowbar. Hisoka dodged, letting the weapon graze his cheek just enough to feel the sting. Blood dripped down his face.

 "Mmm~ It's been a while since I've felt that," he mused before slamming his forehead into the thug's nose with a sickening crunch. The man crumpled.

 The remaining two turned to run.

 Hisoka tutted, shaking his head. "But we were just getting started."

 He sprinted forward, unnaturally fast, kicking one man's leg out from under him before driving an elbow into his throat.

 The last thug panicked, pulling out a gun with shaking hands. Hisoka merely grinned. The man fired.

 Hisoka tilted his head, letting the bullet graze past his ear.

 "Ah, that was close!" he laughed before gripping the man's wrist and twisting it around until the gun faced the thug's own chest.

 BANG!

 Silence.

 Hisoka sighed, stretching his arms over his head. "Hmm~ A little dull, but I suppose I'm still warming up."

 The leader, still writhing on the ground, coughed. "Wh-what… the hell are you?"

 Hisoka knelt beside him, pressing a bloodied finger to his lips. "Now, now~ That would ruin the fun."

 The man's breathing hitched as Hisoka leaned in. "Tell me about this Penguin. And don't lie~ Or I'll make you disappear."

The thug stammered, his face pale. "H-he runs the Iceberg Lounge… arms dealer, controls half the city's rackets. You don't mess with Penguin!"

Hisoka chuckled, standing up. "Oh, but that sounds delightful."

He turned his gaze to the city around him. The towering buildings, the distant chaos, the low hum of something dark lurking beneath the surface. No Nen. But power. A different kind of power.

Hisoka licked his lips.

**This city is full of predators. **

But there is a new Hunter in the game.

 A slow, delighted giggle escaped him. "Gotham… what a wonderful little playground."

 He walked off into the shadows, leaving the broken bodies behind him.

His game had just begun.