The Strongest Assassin of the Zoldyck Family!

"For the price of just a single Greed Island game cartridge… you wiped out my entire Kurta clan."

"To you, is the life of a Kurta worth so little?"

"What did you take our lives for?"

Kurapika's eyes reddened. Though he wore contact lenses so no one else could see, Melody could clearly hear his heartbeat—it had become terrifyingly fast and heavy. Instinctively, she covered her ears.

"Big brother, do we really need to get the Greed Island cartridge through an auction?" Killua asked.

Milluki glanced at him and quickly understood what he meant. But—

"That thought of yours would probably make Big Brother and Father very happy," he replied dryly, "but sorry—no. The person who won the bid isn't just any ordinary buyer."

"They're a Nen user like us."

"And not a weak one either."

"At least, none of you would stand a chance."

"It doesn't look like it's just one person either, but a team."

"If Big Brother or Ron were here, maybe we could manage… but as things are, no way."

Killua frowned slightly. "So what do we do now?"

"I don't know about you," Milluki said bluntly, "but I'm heading back. I came out here to get a Greed Island cartridge, and since I didn't get it, there's no point sticking around."

For Milluki, the cartridge wasn't an obsession like it was for Gon. He cared, sure, and he had tried—but after failing to win it at auction, he wasn't about to take unnecessary risks.

This was a matter of priorities—a balance between desire, cost, and danger.

After weighing them, Milluki chose to walk away.

Killua looked at Gon, then turned back to Milluki, trying one last time to provoke him.

"Big brother, weren't you determined to get the cartridge? Giving up so easily?"

Milluki shot him a cool glance. "That won't work on me."

"Besides… it's you two who really want the cartridge, not me."

"Stop relying on me for everything. You should learn to think for yourselves!"

Killua froze, caught off guard. Milluki almost never spoke to him like that—and for a moment, Killua couldn't even react.

With Greed Island out of reach, Milluki chose to withdraw early.

On the other side, the one who had won all the Greed Island cartridges—Tsezguerra—also left quietly.

"Gon, Leorio, let's go too," Killua said quickly.

Leorio hesitated, confused. Killua took the lead.

"That person bought so many cartridges," he explained as they walked. "Each one allows up to four players."

"The ones he bought could support more than twenty players total."

"Someone spending that much to buy them clearly isn't just looking to play casually."

"I think we should approach them," Killua added.

Gon's eyes lit up. "You mean… help them play the game?"

"Exactly."

Just after they left, an explosion rocked the area.

Boom!

.............

Just a moment earlier, Chrollo had ordered the Troupe to focus on stealing auction goods. But now their objective had changed—revenge against the Underworld Mafia.

The auction itself no longer mattered.

That was why the Phantom Troupe hadn't acted immediately—they waited until the auction was halfway through.

Phinks moved first, arriving at the base of the building. He stood before a solid wall and began rotating his arm.

Once. Twice. Three times.

"Ripper Cyclotron!"

Then he let fly a punch.

The force of it dwarfed even Uvogin's Big Bang Impact. A huge hole opened in the wall, and the entire building trembled.

Chrollo walked in calmly.

Pakunoda followed right behind him.

A Mafia officer passed by Chrollo—his fingers twitched almost lazily, and in the next instant, a thin line of blood appeared on the man's neck.

Against ordinary humans like these, Chrollo didn't even need to use his abilities. Sheer speed alone was enough; it was a complete slaughter.

Another Mafia officer spotted what was happening and turned, gun raised.

Pakunoda raised her pistol first.

Bang!

The shot hit perfectly—right between the man's eyebrows. A hole appeared in his forehead as he fell dead.

Chrollo continued walking forward.

At another exit stood Nobunaga.

"En!" he muttered.

Uvogin's death had deeply affected him—emotionally and mentally. That intense blow had driven Nobunaga to new heights, and his Nen had grown stronger as a result.

His En now extended two meters around him. Anything that entered it would trigger an immediate response.

And none would escape.

Slice!

Slice!

Slice!

The Mafia members who fled blindly into his range were cut down without hesitation.

In mere moments, a dozen lay dead at his feet.

Finally, some of the survivors noticed Nobunaga standing guard. They scrambled to pull out their guns and fired.

But inside his En, even bullets couldn't touch him.

Clink!

Clink!

Clink!

The shots were effortlessly cut from the air as soon as they crossed the boundary.

Uvogin didn't fear bullets.

And neither did Nobunaga—the difference was just in their methods.

Elsewhere, Hooker moved fast. Unlike Nobunaga, he wasn't interested in the rank-and-file. His targets were the elite members of the Mafia.

His hatred for the Mafia was at least as deep as any Troupe member's—perhaps even stronger.

After all, Hooker would never forget what he had suffered in their labs.

At the top of the building, Feitan had entered a conference room.

The people inside had already been beaten down, but Feitan hadn't killed them all.

Some were dead.

The rest… he was torturing.

It was more than just interrogation—it was pleasure.

Feitan reveled in this slow, deliberate torment.

Hisoka, meanwhile, killed as he went—but his focus never left Chrollo.

Like a wolf lurking in the shadows, he was simply waiting… biding his time… for the perfect opportunity to strike.