Cluck's sudden appearance, along with Morrow's speculation about her abilities, inevitably stirred a trace of hostility in Kalluto's heart, accompanied by a sense of crisis.
Even though he had taken Morrow's advice to heart, Kalluto's stance on Cluck's abilities remained unchanged.
This was no longer just a simple comparison of strength or ability types.
Instead, it was Kalluto's suppressed possessiveness rearing its head.
But the real trigger was Morrow's words: "Your ability is precious."
Perhaps Kalluto himself hadn't realized it, but the longing and possessiveness he had long repressed toward Killua had unknowingly shifted to Morrow.
Morrow, however, simply thought Kalluto was back to his old habit of comparing strengths and didn't dwell on it further.
Once aboard the airship, he immediately had the kitchen prepare a batch of sugar pancakes in various flavors and personally delivered them to Kalluto's room.
Seeing the sugar pancakes Morrow brought, Kalluto's eyes instantly lit up.
—--
Two days later.
The airship departing from Yorknew landed in Chezlon, a coastal city in the eastern region of the Yorbian continent.
Heading south from this city would lead to the Basla Archipelago, dotted with numerous islands.
Traveling east would take one to the continent where the Begerosse Union, one of the V5 nations, was located.
However, along the way to the Begerosse Union, one would pass three islands.
One of these islands was the location of the Greed Island game.
Coastal cities typically thrived on trade and fishing, and Chezlon was no exception, having grown into a prosperous and renowned city.
But based on Morrow's understanding of this world, regions that appeared flourishing on the surface often harbored various gray industries in the shadows.
And these potential gray industries were mostly tied to the Ten Dons.
After leaving Chezlon Airport, Morrow, as usual, rented a car for transportation and drove toward the city center.
According to Kalluto's "living paper doll," their target, Bazel, was currently in the heart of the city.
Carrying such a hefty bounty on his head, yet daring to stay in a crowded city center, truly arrogant.
Gripping the steering wheel inside the car, Morrow couldn't help but think of the Phantom Troupe.
Reckless and unrestrained.
But this wasn't a trait exclusive to the Phantom Troupe.
Many criminals who never appeared in the "original storyline" acted just as brazenly across the world.
Bazel's boldness in blending into the city center might stem from his personality, but it could also be the mindset of someone who considered every extra day alive a win.
After all, not every criminal was like Razor, who managed to survive an encounter with a powerhouse like Ging Freecss.
To criminals, when faced with an unbeatable opponent and staring death in the face, fear was often minimal.
They'd already had their fill of thrills.
This was likely the mentality of those who lived on the edge.
"If Bazel is in a crowded place, won't it be harder to take action?"
Kalluto asked softly while keeping an eye on the paper doll in his hand.
Morrow glanced briefly at Kalluto in the passenger seat. Instead of answering, he countered, "What do you think?" "If we directly attack Bazel in a crowded place, not only will it harm people other than the 'target,' but it will also provide favorable conditions for Bazel's ability."
Kalluto voiced his thoughts.
Hearing this, Morrow smiled.
Noticing the smile on Morrow's face, Kalluto asked in confusion, "Did I say something wrong?"
"You're not wrong."
Morrow looked ahead and shook his head slightly. "It just surprised me a little."
"Surprised by what?"
Kalluto stared at Morrow's face.
Morrow chuckled. "Surprised that you'd emphasize 'harming others' like that."
"Is that strange?"
Kalluto sounded puzzled. "Dad has always taught us this way."
"Your father is right."
Morrow suddenly realized he had projected some of his views about Illumi onto Kalluto.
People like Zeno Zoldyck don't take pleasure in killing, so when carrying out missions, they consciously avoid harming unrelated individuals beyond the "target."
This professional approach was passed down from Zeno to Silva, and then from Silva to Illumi and the others.
However, Illumi clearly doesn't value this practice, and Milluki is even worse, willing to trade a traveler's life for a computer, which says it all.
Ironically, it's the youngest, Kalluto, who truly inherited this approach from Zeno and Silva.
But thinking about it, it makes sense.
The difference between Kalluto and Illumi's group is that he's too obedient and well-behaved.
Night fell.
The city lights of Chezlon illuminated the night, outlining the city's silhouette with a dazzling glow.
The streets were bustling with traffic.
Its prosperity was evident.
Morrow and Kalluto avoided the bright lights, moving through the shadows as they gradually closed in on their target.
"Is he in there?"
Leaning against the dimly lit corner of a building, Morrow looked toward a nightclub flashing multicolored lights in the distance.
"Yes."
Kalluto was certain.
Morrow said calmly, "Then we'll have to wait."
A place like a nightclub was clearly unsuitable for taking action against Bazel.
The two waited patiently.
It wasn't until past 1 a.m. that the living paper doll in Kalluto's hand suddenly reacted more intensely, pointing toward a tall man wearing a hat and sunglasses who had just stepped out of the nightclub's entrance.
"That's him."
Kalluto immediately identified the target for Morrow.
Morrow nodded, calmly watching as Bazel approached a sports car before retreating into the darkness, careful not to draw attention by looking at him again. Once the roar of the sports car's engine faded into the distance, Morrow led Kalluto out of the shadows and into a rented sedan, following Bazel's trail toward the seaside.
As they drove away from the city center, the density of dazzling lights gradually decreased.
Screech!
Morrow braked, stopping at a spot overlooking the nearby port.
Under the darkening night, Chezlon Port lay in silence, with only scattered lights illuminating parts of the area.
Giant cranes stood motionless by the docks, while stacks of containers were neatly arranged across the open yard, flanked by rows of warehouses.
Further out on the sea, a few anchored cargo ships loomed faintly in the darkness.
The entire port was so quiet that only the sound of sea wind and waves filled their ears.
Morrow and Kalluto strode straight into the port under the cover of night. Guided by the paper figures, the two quickly pinpointed the target's location, a warehouse with its doors tightly shut. Faint light could be seen escaping from the ventilation openings above.
At this moment.
—--
Inside the warehouse.
Two groups of men dressed as gangsters stood facing each other from a distance.
One side was numerous, numbering around a hundred.
Their leader sat casually on a chair, exuding an air of nonchalance, clearly the owner of the warehouse.
The other group consisted of only about twenty people.
At their forefront was a bald middle-aged man with a faint smile on his face. Behind him, several of his men carried suitcases filled with cash.
Among this group was Morrow's target, Bazel, standing inconspicuously behind the bald man like an ordinary bodyguard, devoid of any presence.
But only the bald man knew Bazel's true significance.
"Mr. Xylie, has the 'merchandise' we agreed on earlier not arrived at the port yet?" the bald middle-aged man asked with a smile, looking at the man seated on the chair.
The man called Xylie idly twirled a small knife in his hand and merely lifted his eyes at the question, replying coldly, "What's the rush? As long as you've brought enough money, you won't lose a single hair."
"..."
The bald man remained unperturbed, keeping his smile intact.
Bazel, meanwhile, stifled a yawn out of sheer boredom.
Though this was a transaction of mutual benefit, the utterly uneventful scene left him feeling thoroughly disinterested.
"Hmm?"
Bazel suddenly stopped mid-yawn and, as if no one else were around, pulled out a small phone to read a message from his "accomplice."
"Two."
A brief message, yet it conveyed critical information to Bazel.
He was being targeted... by two Nen users.
Slowly pocketing the phone, the drowsiness on Bazel's face receded like a tide, replaced by a chilling grin.
His indulgence in pleasure amidst such a crowded and chaotic place wasn't without reason.
He had an accomplice.
More precisely, a younger brother.
Normally, he kept his brother hidden in the shadows, monitoring his every move from a "higher vantage point."
Under this near-controlling surveillance, threats like Blacklist Hunters who meant him harm were often quickly identified.
There was only one reason his brother would relay a "message" to him immediately.
Those targeting him were Nen users, worthy of attention.
"Time to move again," Bazel muttered to himself, his aura beginning to pulse slowly yet powerfully.
The bald man faintly caught Bazel's words and turned back, asking with concern, "What did you just say?"
In response, Bazel merely flashed him a dangerous smile.
In that instant, the bald man suddenly sensed peril.
Before he could react, he saw Bazel raise his hands, thin red threads shooting out from between his fingers like spreading branches, targeting everyone in the room except himself.
No.
Not threads, blood.
The bald man spotted droplets of blood on Bazel's fingertips.
"You...!?"
His eyes widened in horror as he stared at Bazel, who had attacked without warning.
Ignoring the bald man's reaction, Bazel manipulated the thread-like blood, injecting it into the bodies of everyone present. With this ability, he swiftly took control of the hundred or so people in the warehouse.
"Blood-Pact Control."
This was his Manipulation ability. Using one's own blood as a medium, complete control over a target can be achieved.
This ability can also be used to manipulate the blood within a target's body.
Since it requires the user's own blood as a medium, the number of targets that can be controlled, as well as the strength of the control, depends entirely on the amount of blood Bazel can extract.
"Though they're just a bunch of trash, controlling a hundred people at once is still a bit taxing."
Bazel's face turned deathly pale, resembling a vampire from a movie at first glance.
"Considering how well we've cooperated..."
After securing control over the others, Bazel slowly turned his gaze toward the terrified bald middle-aged man, curling his lips into a smile. "Leave the money, and you can go."
"Y-yes... I don't want the money, take it all, it's all yours!"
The bald man reacted quickly, expressing his compliance in the fastest way possible before scrambling toward the warehouse door on his hands and knees.
When he heard Bazel say, "Leave the money," his desperate desire to survive transformed into overwhelming relief.
Thank goodness Bazel only wanted money. Thank goodness Bazel was willing to spare his life!
Just as the bald man was thinking this, he suddenly felt an intense pain pierce through his back and chest.
"Huh?"
The bald man collapsed to the ground, struggling to prop himself up as he stared blankly at the bloody hole in his chest and the blood gushing out.
He lied to me?!
He deliberately said to leave the money just to give me false hope?
The bald man's face twisted with resentment and unwillingness. His mouth opened, but no sound came out...only a continuous stream of blood.
Then, he heard Bazel's suppressed, low, and maniacal laughter.
"Yes, this is the reaction I wanted."
Bazel walked up to the bald man, crouching down slowly, his eyes brimming with excitement.
Listening to Bazel's grating laughter, the bald man weakly lowered his head and exhaled his last breath.
"This was a special privilege just for you. If there's another world, remember to thank me properly."
Bazel stood up with a laugh, no longer sparing a glance at the bald man's corpse. Instead, he directed everyone in the warehouse to charge toward the door in a frenzy.
—--
Meanwhile.
Morrow and Kalluto, who had been lying in wait behind a container outside the warehouse for some time, suddenly sensed a surge of aura emanating from inside the warehouse.
That fluctuation was the unmistakable sign of Bazel activating his ability to control over a hundred people at once.
Morrow and Kalluto exchanged glances, both preparing for the unknown situation ahead.
BANG!
Suddenly, the warehouse door was violently flung open.
A crowd of armed men surged out like zombies, their movements oddly disjointed.
The moment he saw this, Morrow didn't hesitate. He channeled his aura and launched a fluorescent green Shooting Star into the sky while tossing a glass jar filled with mosquitoes with his other hand.
The Shooting Star froze midair, and as the glass shattered, a swarm of mosquitoes flew out.
Then, the suspended Shooting Star split into countless fragments, raining down like a storm and piercing through the crowd rushing out of the warehouse.
Squelch, squelch...
Blood sprayed everywhere.
In an instant, over fifty corpses littered the ground. Although the group was enveloped in a thin layer of aura, the Shooting Star, enhanced twofold, was powerful enough to destroy them even after its force dispersed.
"We've been discovered."
Morrow's gaze followed the retracting blood threads that withdrew into the warehouse as the crowd collapsed.
Realizing they had been detected by Bazel, a question naturally arose in his mind.
"Kalluto, stay alert."
For now, Morrow suppressed his doubts and first warned Kalluto before gathering aura in his hand once more.
No matter how Bazel had suddenly discovered them, his priority was to decisively strip away every ounce of power Bazel could wield.
—--
Under the cover of night, a pair of eyes approached the warehouse, Bazel's younger brother.
But from an even higher vantage point, another pair of eyes watched.
Are Blacklist Hunters targeting the Bazel brothers?
The owner of those eyes wore a black-and-white outfit with a strong cow motif, complete with a hat adorned with two small horns. This person was none other than Ox Mizaistom of the Hunter Association's Zodiac Twelve.
--------
Bonus chapter!
I'm happy to announce that we've officially surpassed the translated chapter count of the two other translations that were dropped.