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334 HxH: Tombbound Power
🕑 Added 2025-01-20 06:02:01 +0000 UTC"What's the point of this?"
Ronnel lamented, shaking his head and shedding crocodile tears with exaggerated insincerity.
"Forget it. You're all assassins with blood on your hands. If you've chosen to live that life, you should have already made peace with dying for it. And…"
He cast his gaze over the battlefield, scanning the lifeless bodies of the Beast Fist squad and their demonic beasts. Surrounding the area were the corpses of the Westin family, their twisted forms a testament to the carnage.
Finally, his attention settled on the high platform. Only three people there were still breathing, though their blood-soaked bodies and pale faces betrayed their dire state.
"Assassins should always keep their house in order. That's the first rule of survival," Ronnel mused, a mocking smirk tugging at his lips.
Then, with a flicker of his Nen, his ability Energy of the Undead activated once more. Its effect was devastating—the corpse poison spreading through the room was as merciless as death itself.
"Agh! Cough…"
On the high platform, a man with purple-blue hair struggled to maintain his composure. He covered his mouth with trembling hands, but dark green blood seeped between his fingers.
"Is this... really the end?" he muttered, staring at the viscous liquid staining his palms. His heart quaked as he realized the antidotes had failed him.
He could almost hear the gates of the underworld creaking open, accompanied by the bitter sound of his ambitions shattering.
"You bastard…"
Summoning the last vestiges of his strength, he glared at Ronnel with bloodshot eyes, his pupils tinged with an unnatural green. His face had taken on an almost undead pallor, his skin starting to crack and decay.
"It doesn't matter if I die," he spat through gritted teeth, his bloodstained smile horrifying. "But my father and grandfather, who are out on missions… they'll never let you go!"
His sinister words echoed through the room like a curse.
"No matter where you run—whether it's the deepest ocean or the highest mountain—our Matar family will hunt you down. We'll make you wish for death, Ronnel!"
His vengeful proclamation filled the otherwise lifeless conference hall with an oppressive chill.
In response, Ronnel raised an eyebrow and sighed dramatically.
"I'm not worried about you. Dead men can't make threats."
Still, a shadow of irritation crossed his face. "But persistent pests like you do get annoying."
Before the conversation could continue, a familiar voice broke through.
"You don't have to worry about him."
Both Ronnel and the purple-blue-haired man turned toward the source. It was Illumi, his pale face betraying his weakened state.
Though the corpse poison hadn't taken him out thanks to layered protections, he was visibly drained. His body was riddled with injuries, and his combat potential was at zero.
"Even so," Illumi continued, "my father and grandfather already know your position. They're officially en route."
Despite his precarious condition, his tone remained composed.
"You thought you could take us out without repercussions? You'll learn soon enough that was a mistake."
Ronnel studied him for a moment, then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, dispersed the corpse poison and deathly aura filling the room. Illumi visibly relaxed as the oppressive energy lifted.
"My father and grandfather won't be coming alone," Illumi added. "They've enlisted my great-grandfather for this mission. Trust me, Ronnel—they won't escape this time."
Illumi coughed weakly, his composure cracking ever so slightly.
"You don't even have a great-grandfather to rely on, do you? Such a pity. With your background, pulling off a victory here was always a pipe dream."
The faint trace of pity in Illumi's voice caught Ronnel's attention. His eyes narrowed. Illumi wasn't one to show emotions like this—was it an act, or had the injuries truly rattled him?
Ronnel's musings were interrupted as the purple-blue-haired man's body gave out. Two streaks of blood trickled from the corners of his lifeless eyes.
"So he's dead," Ronnel muttered, glancing down at the motionless figure. "Didn't even catch his name."
With the last of his enemies eliminated, Ronnel turned his attention to Illumi and Gel, the only two survivors.
"Well, my work here is done. Time to head out."
Sensing the shift in Ronnel's demeanor, Illumi instinctively reached for his Nen-infused needles, holding them tightly despite his frailty.
"Ahem…" Illumi coughed again, his face unnaturally flushed.
