Unlike in the original events, for some reason, Jed didn't simply knock down the group of Floor Masters and inject aura into them to control them.
Instead, he struck much harder, leaving some of them seriously injured—some even maimed and on the brink of death.
"Shh—" After receiving an answer she didn't want to hear, Machi turned away in annoyance.
If the Battle Olympia couldn't be held due to unforeseen circumstances, wouldn't the money she had invested in it go to waste?
"We could issue a statement to Heavens Arena."
Kortopi, who rarely spoke up, suddenly suggested.
"Hmm?"
Noticing Machi's gaze on him, Kortopi continued, "The timing was really unfortunate, and it prevented the participants from competing, making it impossible to hold the tournament properly."
"If it can't be held, then so be it. The whole point of the tournament is to crown a champion, right?"
"You mean…" Machi's eyes gleamed as she caught on.
Kortopi nodded. "If we ask Heavens Arena to award the championship to Ronnel, wouldn't that settle it?"
"All the other contestants were taken down. Ronnel is the only one still standing. Do we really need to think twice about the champion?"
"Hm." Machi nodded slightly, her expression still cool, though her words came out noticeably faster.
"Besides, Ronnel climbed straight to the top of the tower and confronted the leader of the enemy forces under the watchful eyes of the world. He rescued Netero and resolved the entire incident flawlessly."
"If Heavens Arena doesn't name him champion…" Machi trailed off, scoffing. "That would be ridiculous, wouldn't it?"
"That's right—it's common sense."
Kortopi nodded in agreement, but then he noticed Shalnark and Ronnel looking at him strangely. He hesitated for a moment before awkwardly clearing his throat.
"Ahem, I, uh, placed a bet on Ronnel too."
"Ah. That explains it…" The two exchanged knowing looks.
"So, how much did you bet on me?" Ronnel asked, raising an eyebrow.
"My entire savings." Kortopi's single eye glinted. "You were a sure thing."
Ronnel and Shalnark: "..."
You really think highly of me~
"By the way, what's the situation with the Boss?"
"He's still undergoing aura purification. There haven't been any complications."
"That's good. If there's nothing else, I'll be—"
"Hold on! Figure out how we're getting the championship before you leave!"
"???"
It was entirely unreasonable for the most money-hungry person here to be a woman. No, even basic logic wouldn't allow it.
As Ronnel was forced to stay and strategize about the championship, in a room next door…
"Is everything settled?"
Chrollo rested his chin on his hand as he sat on the sofa, watching the television. The signal had been restored, and the screen displayed an interview with Netero.
As he listened to the elderly Chairman's composed remarks, Chrollo's mind wandered elsewhere.
Three prophetic lines from Neon's fortune-telling back in Yorknew City had haunted his thoughts ever since.
So far, most of the prophecy had already come true.
Finding a new recruit? Check. Heading east? Check. Seeking out an exorcist to remove his chain curse? Also check.
But the last three lines remained a mystery.
According to Neon, a prophecy's outcome could change, meaning there was a chance that those lines might never come to pass.
But Chrollo, ever cautious, wasn't one to rely on "possibilities."
While traveling east, searching for a new recruit and an exorcist, he had repeatedly contemplated the meaning behind those words.
"Our treasures? What do we have that's worth coveting?"
"We're A-rank fugitives. Aside from the notoriety we bring to any Hunter who captures us, we don't possess anything particularly valuable…"
This puzzle had plagued him the most—what could someone possibly want from the Phantom Troupe?
Chrollo fell into deep thought.
At that moment, a folded piece of paper was slipped under the door, stopping at his feet.
"…Again?"
Suppressing his thoughts, Chrollo picked up the paper.
It contained a detailed report on the orchestrators behind the recent attack. The handwriting was unmistakably Shalnark's.
Shalnark and the others had resorted to passing messages this way multiple times.
Of course, Chrollo never responded. The restrictions placed on him by Kurapika prevented him from interacting with his comrades in any way.
However, passively receiving information didn't violate the condition.
For instance, back when Chrollo had first been cursed by Kurapika's chain, he had run into Hisoka immediately after disembarking from an airship.
At the time, Chrollo still regarded Hisoka as a member of the Troupe. He listened to Hisoka's words, acknowledged his presence, but deliberately refrained from responding.
It was only when Hisoka loudly declared that he was no longer part of the Phantom Troupe—tearing off the fake spider tattoo he had crafted—that Chrollo's eyes gleamed with amusement, and he finally spoke to him.
From that, it was clear that simply receiving information wasn't a violation—as long as he didn't reply.
Spreading out the paper, Chrollo carefully scanned its contents.
And then, his gaze froze on something unexpected.
"…This is—"
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