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226 HxH: Tombbound Power
🕑 Added 2024-11-27 06:02:00 +0000 UTCIllumi paused, the poker cards in his hand stilling as his sharp gaze briefly flickered with intensity, only to vanish a moment later.
"Hmm~ Good thing I got Hisoka to help. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known that Killua was captured by the Phantom Troupe."
He gave an unreadable smile. "It's fine. I'll take care of this. If anyone dares to hurt Killua, I won't spare them."
Though his face was expressionless, like still water, his thoughts churned violently beneath the surface.
As Illumi's eyes took on a sharper glint, Machi and the others arrived at the hideout without a word.
Phinks crossed his arms, a dark expression clouding his face, and stood beside Feitan, creating an almost comical height contrast.
"What the hell is going on? How did Nobunaga die?"
Franklin's deep voice rumbled as he stepped forward, his towering frame imposing even in the somber atmosphere. He had heard the details already, but he couldn't stop himself from asking again.
"This is his body. See for yourself."
Ronnel stepped forward, raising an arm with a quiet gesture. Nobunaga's body, carefully tended to by Machi, was revealed.
The familiar ronin attire—hakama, katana, and flowing hair—remained unchanged, but the hollow eyes and stitched-up neck told the grim story.
The fiery Nobunaga they knew was gone.
Franklin's hands clenched, the rough texture of his trousers bunching beneath his grip.
"It was an instant kill," Feitan remarked, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. His eyes narrowed as his hand absently brushed the hilt of his umbrella sword. "The technique... claw and fist martial arts, yet executed with a precision sharp enough to rival a master of blades."
Phinks examined Nobunaga's hand, still tightly gripping the katana. The grip had not slackened even in death, as if his sheer willpower had fused the two together.
"The death was so sudden... no time for resentment or anger," Illumi commented, his clinical tone betraying a flicker of something unspoken.
"Let's bury him," Franklin finally said, his tone heavy with restrained emotion.
They worked quickly, digging a grave in the shadowed ruins. Machi cut a makeshift cross from scavenged wood and planted it at the head of the burial site.
As the last handful of dirt fell, Ronnel's eyes glimmered with Nen, activating a subtle ability. He placed a restriction upon the grave—by expending five times the usual aura, he could connect with Nobunaga's remains without alerting the others.
Meanwhile, Pakunoda followed Kurapika's instructions, boarding an airship at Airport. There, she finally came face-to-face with him.
Beside Kurapika stood Melody, the ever-watchful judge of emotions, and Chrollo, bound tightly with chains.
Pakunoda's eyes flicked over Chrollo's battered figure. Though she betrayed no outward reaction, her heart ached at the sight of her wounded leader.
Kurapika's chains gleamed ominously as he declared, "From this moment, Chrollo Lucilfer is bound by judgment. He will never use Nen or contact the Phantom Troupe again. In return, you have my word—we'll release your hostages by midnight."
The deal was struck, the terms clear. The exchange was set to take place at midnight.
As Pakunoda turned to leave the airship, she paused, her sharp gaze meeting Kurapika's.
"One question," she said. "When you captured Chrollo at Hotel, did you kill one of our members?"
Kurapika frowned. "Kill your member? No. I captured Chrollo and left immediately. There was no time for that."
Pakunoda studied him, her instincts telling her he wasn't lying. Still, the death of a comrade during the power outage weighed heavily on her mind.
Shalnark's earlier message had hinted at a potential culprit, and now Pakunoda had her confirmation—it wasn't the Chain User.
Nobunaga's death remained a mystery.
