Chapter 200: Double Protection
The Shadow Clone activated its Lightning Chakra the moment it exited the cafe, entering Lightning Style Chakra Mode.
The approaching enforcers were beneath its notice. Its objective was singular: execute the Fourth Prince at maximum speed.
A blue streak of lightning tore through the air. The clone bypassed the guards in a blur, materializing directly beside Tserriednich.
Hell Stab: Four-Finger Nukite!
The lightning-wreathed hand lunged for the Prince's throat. But to the clone's surprise, the sensory specialist—the guard Engli—burst forward with an unnatural spike of speed, throwing himself between the strike and his master.
The piercing force of the Nukite erupted upon contact. However, the result baffled the clone.
By all logic, the strike should have punched clean through the man's chest. Instead, Engli was simply launched backward as if hit by a blunt kinetic hammer.
The guard's aura was fluctuating wildly, burning with a dark, desperate intensity.
A Vow, Ronin analyzed from the cafe. He's burning his life force for 'Absolute Defense' or 'Momentary Invulnerability.' He bought a single second of survival at the cost of his own heart.
Failing the instant kill, the clone shifted its stance. It wove a quick series of seals, molding Chakra in its throat.
But before it could exhale, Tserriednich's silhouette began to fade, becoming translucent. The clone noticed the Prince's eyelids growing heavy—he was being forced into a deep sleep by an external aura.
Wind Style: Vacuum Bullets!
The clone spat a barrage of high-pressure air rounds, but they passed harmlessly through the space where the Prince had stood, cratering the hotel's marble floor.
Tserriednich had been warped away.
The clone sensed a sudden, immense pressure behind it. A grotesque, spectral hand emerged from the air, its five fingers clawing at the earth and leaving deep furrows in the concrete.
It was a missed grab. Before the hand could try again, the Shadow Clone succumbed to a hail of conventional bullets from the surrounding guards and dispelled into white smoke.
Engli, the sensory guard, lay in a pool of blood nearby, his chest mangled but his Vow fulfilled. His status: deceased.
Inside the cafe, Ronin's main body had watched the entire exchange through his Sharingan.
The Fourth Prince's security detail contained two distinct Nen specialists.
The Sensor/Shield: Engli. He used a life-burning Vow to act as a human wall.
The Extractor: A hidden teleporter who triggered a warp the moment the Prince was rendered unconscious or endangered.
Ronin reached a vital conclusion. These aren't Tserriednich's men.
If they belonged to the Prince, they wouldn't need to knock him out to save him. These were agents of King Nasubi Hui Guo Rou, assigned to protect the potential heirs of the throne until the "official" struggle began.
"Let's move," Ronin said.
With the Prince warped to an unknown secure location, staying in the cafe was a tactical error. Tserriednich's secondary security—the ordinary humans—were already rushing the building.
The cafe was a war zone of shattered glass and screaming patrons.
"Record everything," Ronin instructed Shizuku, who was holding her phone up. "We need to debrief Kurapika."
He pondered the "Double Protection" system. Does every Prince have this level of coverage?
To test that theory, he'd have to scout the others.
He mentally crossed off the First and Second Princes. Benjamin and Camilla were already Nen masters with their own private, Nen-using armies. Infiltrating their circles was a Tier-S difficulty mission.
Benjamin was a high-ranking military officer; his guards were elite soldiers. Camilla's territory was even more inaccessible—it was populated by the Untouchables, a fanatic population who would gladly die for her. You couldn't hide in a crowd that shared a single hive-mind devotion to their "Goddess."
Fortunately, he only needed to test a minor Prince to confirm the pattern.
Shizuku finished her recording. The video was grainy, but Ronin's speed and the bizarre spatial warp were clear.
"Should we hunt down the teleporter?" Neon asked.
"Not yet," Ronin said. "If the King is providing these guards, killing them will bring the entire Royal Army down on us. We need to be more surgical."
The cafe doors were kicked open. Black-suited guards stormed in, rifles raised. They didn't ask for IDs; they simply began clearing the room with automatic fire, indifferent to collateral damage.
The gunfire lasted only seconds before falling silent.
A new Shadow Clone had appeared in the center of the cafe. Using raw speed and a few well-placed hand-chops, it had neutralized the squad before they could empty their first magazines.
By the next morning, the Kakin media was in a state of controlled panic.
Front-page headlines screamed about the "terrorist attack" on the Fourth Prince. Photos showed the decimated cafe and the shattered hotel lobby. The assailant's face—the "Deidara" mask—was everywhere.
The Kakin government issued a 100 Million Jenny bounty for any information on the bomber.
Every private detective and bounty hunter in the capital was now on the hunt.
At 8:00 AM, Prince Tserriednich woke up in a secure, undisclosed bunker.
He read the newspaper with a dark, contemplative expression. He rubbed his temples, which were throbbing with a dull ache.
His memory was a blank from the moment he entered the hotel. He didn't remember the lightning, the explosion, or the extraction.
Did the assassin do something to my mind? he wondered, his eyes narrowing. Or is my father playing games with my life again?
The Fourth Prince's hatred for the "common" world deepened. He needed power. Not political power—true power. He wanted to ensure that no one could ever erase his time again.
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