The retreating Phantom Troupe members quickly regrouped.
In the center of them was Bonolenov, engulfed in black flames.
At first, Bonolenov hadn't taken the flames of [Amaterasu] seriously, but he soon paid the price for that assumption. The black fire consumed everything and was impossible to extinguish.
Water couldn't douse it. Trying to block it with Nen only caused the aura itself to catch fire.
Bonolenov racked his brain and could only come up with one solution: someone had to strip all his conjured armor off him in a split second. That might detach the black flames from his body completely.
If he simply dispelled the equipment normally, the fire attached to it would instantly collapse onto his skin. If that happened, he was done for.
Only one person could pull that off: Machi.
And she had to be fast.
Right now, Bonolenov felt like the armor protecting him was tin foil wrapped around a baked potato. Every second inside it was pure torture.
Machi tested it first, confirming that as long as she cut the connection in time, the black flames wouldn't travel up her Nen threads to her. Only then did she start the rescue.
Dozens of Nen threads shot out like spider silk, wrapping completely around Bonolenov's battle armor.
The next second, Machi yanked with sudden force. With a loud tearing sound, all the equipment on Bonolenov was ripped away.
But his skin was torn off right along with it!
Under the intense roasting heat, Bonolenov had barely managed to keep himself alive using Nen, but he couldn't stop the armor from fusing to his skin. Stripped of his gear, he was now a bloody, skinless figure. It was a horrific sight.
Bonolenov gasped, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed backward. But before he even hit the ground, his eyes snapped open again. The pain... it was excruciating!
Even the Troupe members, who had weathered countless storms, found it hard to look directly at him.
But for now, Bonolenov had to endure it on his own. No one in the Troupe, not even Chrollo, possessed any healing abilities.
"I'm going to kill him! I will absolutely kill him!" Amidst heart-wrenching screams, Bonolenov's hatred for Ronin carved itself into his very bones.
Chrollo's gaze fell on the conjured equipment engulfed in black flames.
Without Bonolenov's continuous supply of Nen, the gear was quickly incinerated. Only when everything turned to ash did the black flames finally dissipate.
"Let's leave first. Our opponent used his identity to set a trap. We lost this round. Also, those three pairs of Scarlet Eyes in Yorknew have likely fallen into his hands," Chrollo said, signaling Machi to carry Bonolenov.
Only Machi could carry him now; if anyone else touched him, the pain might actually kill him.
It seemed the research Shalnark had been doing to fix Uvogin's arm would have to be used on Bonolenov instead.
As for Isley...
Chrollo had done his best. Since he failed to kill the employer beforehand, death was the likely outcome awaiting him now.
Damn Zoldycks.
He needed to have a contingency plan for them as well.
Furthermore, the strength Ronin displayed had once again refreshed Chrollo's assessment of him.
This bizarre situation pointed to one possibility: they were a step too slow.
The enemy had killed one of the Ten Dons and impersonated him. The benefits of such a move were immense.
Finding the Ten Dons and replacing one without being detected showed that the opponent was not only bold but also incredibly meticulous.
Kurapika, was it? Chrollo now knew the opponent's name and identity.
The clan member who wasn't in the village on the night of the massacre.
He must have exposed his location on purpose, having made numerous preparations beforehand.
The corpse in front of the hotel definitely wasn't that boy, Kurapika.
Because when that body appeared, the real Kurapika was still in Room 1801. Except he had mercenaries with him, ready to extract him at a moment's notice.
It was that Rock Mercenary Group again!
The same team that stopped the Troupe from hunting down Ronin at Heavens Arena.
Chrollo just didn't understand Kurapika's objective. Was it a provocation? Or did he just want to ask why he massacred the Kurta Clan?
Childish.
Recalling the look on Kurapika's face, that was Chrollo's evaluation.
There aren't that many "whys" in what thieves do. He slaughtered the Kurta Clan simply because it provided value to the Troupe.
The only pity was that the job wasn't clean enough.
Two little rats from the clan had escaped, found a way to gain power quickly, and now had a chance to flip the board.
Chrollo had to admit, having grown to this level, Ronin was now a massive threat to the Troupe.
He had to be eliminated as soon as possible!
---
When Ronin found Neon, there was a woman he had never seen before standing next to her.
She had long, wine-red hair, slightly upturned phoenix eyes, and fire-red lipstick. She wore a black camisole with a black jacket draped off her shoulders, radiating pure hormonal appeal just by standing there.
She wore black athletic pants that perfectly accentuated her long, straight legs. Her mature charm was evident in every casual glance and smile.
"Let's go. Kurapika has a new room ready for us at the Cemetery Building. He said to meet there," Neon said. "By the way, this is Delilah. She's the one who faked Kurapika's corpse."
"Hi there. Don't blame me; I was just doing it for the money." Delilah had no idea what Kurapika's full plan was.
However, she had seen the massive flood erupt near the Atour Hotel from a distance.
And the one who caused that level of destruction seemed to be this incredibly handsome boy in front of her.
Delilah had absolutely no desire to provoke a powerhouse like that.
"Alright." Ronin nodded.
He had seen Kurapika and Muir at the top of the building earlier. With Muir protecting him, he didn't need to worry about Kurapika's safety.
The fact that Neon had someone with her proved everything was within Kurapika's calculations.
"Are you part of the mercenary group too?" Ronin asked.
"No, I'm a Doll Hunter and a friend of Millia's. She asked me to come help." Delilah's vibe was completely different from Millia's cold demeanor.
Neon grabbed Ronin's arm. "Let's go, this isn't a good place to chat."
"My part is done, so I'll see you next time at Heavens Arena!" Delilah waved her hand, not intending to follow them.
Ten minutes later, Ronin and Neon arrived at the Cemetery Building.
Kurapika was waiting for them. However, when they entered the top-floor room, Ronin didn't see the mercenaries.
They must have left immediately after finishing the mission. They were certainly efficient.
Ronin looked at Kurapika with a complicated expression. "I have to admit, you made the right call. But it doesn't feel good."
"I'm sorry." Kurapika's expression was sincere.
Even though he said that, Ronin could read in Kurapika's earnest eyes that if he had to do it again, he would make the exact same choice.
Ronin felt a bit helpless, but he had to admit the result was good.
"Thank you."
"Hm?"
"Thank you for being alive, Kurapika." As Ronin said this, his eyes shifted into the Mangekyō Sharingan state.
The corners of Kurapika's mouth turned up slightly. "Thank you too, big brother Ronin!"