Meteor City.
Machi, Shizuku, and Kortopi arrived at the outskirts of the sprawling junkyard metropolis.
As original denizens of Meteor City, they knew its treacherous geography and toxic environment like the backs of their hands. But as they walked toward the central hub, they noticed something completely bizarre.
"Line up! No cutting the line! You piece of trash, if I see you jump the queue again, I'll chop your legs off! There's enough for everyone! Lord Aizen declared that everyone has the right to live! So shut up and take your rations!"
A thug with bleached blonde hair was violently organizing a massive crowd of emaciated scavengers. He and a few other rough-looking enforcers were handing out blocks of nutrient paste. It looked like cockroach jelly, but compared to the toxic sludge and rotten scraps these people usually ate, it was a Michelin-star feast. It was enough to keep them from starving.
"Meteor City... has a welfare system now?" Shizuku blinked, her glasses slipping down her nose. "Lord Aizen did this?"
Machi and Kortopi were equally stunned.
When they ruled the city from the shadows, they never considered implementing a welfare system. To the Troupe, Meteor City was a place where only the strong survived. The weak were just fertilizer. Chrollo had explicitly rejected the idea of feeding the masses, stating that it would drain their funds and reduce the "tax" they collected from the city's underbelly.
Does this mean... this Sosuke Aizen is actually a good person?
Kortopi, looking thoroughly pathetic in his ragged clothes and messy hair, was mistakenly handed a block of paste by a passing thug.
"It tastes awful," Kortopi muttered after taking a bite. "But it's infinitely better than garbage."
"If he's a benevolent ruler, then it might be easier to negotiate with him," Machi analyzed, her eyes narrowing. "Let's hurry. We don't know when that monster will attack the others."
The trio picked up their pace.
Meteor City. Central District.
Since the deaths of the previous mafia bosses (like Brandon), Lillian and Erica had become the official administrators of the city.
After jumping through several hoops, the three Spiders finally stood in the central command room, facing the two women.
When Erica saw the Spiders, her eye twitched.
She knew exactly who they were. The Phantom Troupe. The true, former masters of Meteor City, and currently the most infamous criminals on the planet. Even her old boss, Brandon, was just a dog compared to them.
Erica felt a surge of panic, but she forced herself to stand tall. She was the proxy of the new ruler. She couldn't show weakness, or she'd be devoured. In this era of monsters, fence-sitters died first. She had to firmly plant her flag with Aizen.
"Gentlemen, ladies," Erica said, her voice tight but steady. "I regret to inform you that Meteor City has a new master. If you are here to declare war and reclaim it... we are ready to oblige."
She knew she couldn't beat them. But she had no reason, and certainly no courage, to betray Sosuke Aizen.
"You misunderstand," Machi stepped forward, her cold eyes scanning the room. "We aren't here for a war. We came with peaceful intentions."
"Oh? Peaceful intentions? Let's hear them," Lillian replied stoically.
"Our 'peaceful intention' is that we are willing to formally cede all our claims to Meteor City to your master," Machi stated, playing her cards carefully. "But in exchange, we need him to do something for us."
Negotiation was a dance of discovering the opponent's bottom line. Machi needed to inflate the Troupe's value before asking for help against a god-tier threat like Ryker.
"My, my. How interesting."
Suddenly, a smooth, cultured voice echoed through the room.
The three Spiders tensed. On the empty throne beside Lillian, a figure began to slowly materialize from thin air. It was a terrifying, surreal display of spatial manipulation.
A handsome man with swept-back brown hair and rectangular glasses smiled down at them.
Whoosh!
Without a single warning, a beam of concentrated, crimson spiritual pressure—a Cero—fired from the man's fingertip, rocketing toward the Spiders.
BOOM!
Kortopi instantly jumped in front of Machi and Shizuku, coating his arms in dense Nen to block the blast. The explosion shattered the floor, and when the smoke cleared, Kortopi's forearms were bleeding heavily beneath his sleeves.
"I generally don't look favorably upon guests who come to my house empty-handed," the man smiled, resting his chin on his hand. "And I despise being told what to do."
He raised his finger again.
"Wait! Lord Aizen!" Machi shouted, her heart hammering. "I am Machi of the Phantom Troupe! We came to negotiate! You can have Meteor City!"
"Meteor City is already mine," Aizen replied indifferently. "If you want it back, come and take it."
Machi gritted her teeth. "..."
"We will pay you one hundred billion Jenny!" Machi desperately offered. "Please, we need your strength to help us kill one man!"
She realized instantly that this man was incredibly dangerous. His aura was suffocating, his personality was volatile, and he was undeniably stronger than them. Kortopi was a Conjurer, but his defense was solid, yet a casual blast from Aizen had drawn blood.
"One hundred billion?" Aizen chuckled softly, tapping his finger against the throne. "Do you have any idea how much revenue Meteor City generates for me in a single year?"
Machi and Shizuku went pale. The man's appetite was monstrous.
"What do you want, then?!" Machi demanded, her Nen flaring slightly. Shizuku readied her vacuum, Blinky.
"Tell me," Aizen smiled, a predator toying with its food. "This man you want me to kill... is his name, by any chance, Ryker?"
The Spiders froze. The blood completely drained from their faces. Their hearts plummeted into an abyss of absolute despair.
He knows him?! Machi thought, her mind racing. Are they allies? Did we just walk into a trap?!
"H-How do you know him? What is your relationship with Ryker?!" Shizuku demanded, tightening her grip on her weapon.
Aizen's smile widened into something truly terrifying.
"Ah, I suppose I forgot to introduce myself properly," Aizen said smoothly. "I am the Captain of the 5th Division under Lord Ryker's command. Sosuke Aizen."
(Note: This is Ryker's Bleach clone from his Espada/Soul Reaper skill set, acting as his proxy in Meteor City).
Machi, Shizuku, and Kortopi stared at him in mind-shattering horror.
Yorknew City. An Abandoned Alleyway.
The alley was littered with the unconscious (and dead) bodies of ordinary citizens.
Standing back-to-back in the center of the carnage were Gon, Killua, and Leorio. They were battered, bruised, and bleeding.
Surrounding them were four members of the Phantom Troupe: Phinks, Franklin, Shalnark, and Bonolenov.
"If you kids keep resisting, I'm going to have to break your arms and legs," Phinks sneered, cracking his knuckles.
It had been an absolute massacre.
Franklin had opened the fight with a barrage of Nen bullets, forcing the trio into cover and causing superficial wounds. Then, Bonolenov had stepped in. He had unraveled his bandages, revealing the hollow holes in his body. Using his Battle Cantabile ability, he had moved at blinding speeds, creating a sonic resonance that completely disoriented them. Killua, despite his speed, was knocked out of the fight almost instantly.
Phinks had casually overpowered Gon in a contest of pure physical strength. Meanwhile, Shalnark had attached his Black Voice antennas to several random pedestrians, forcing Leorio to fight innocent meat-shields.
The Troupe was holding back. They needed hostages. If they wanted to kill them, the boys would have been dead in seconds.
"Damn it... they're Spiders!" Killua wiped blood from his chin, panting heavily. "Gon, this is bad."
"It's because of the bounty," Leorio yelled, spitting out blood. "I saw it on the Dark Web! They placed a hundred billion bounty on Brother Ryker! They want to use us as bait!"
Killua gritted his teeth. He was supposed to be a prodigy of the Zoldyck Family. Yet, ever since he took the Hunter Exam, he felt completely useless. First Ryker styled on him, and now the Phantom Troupe was treating him like a toddler.
"I'd rather die than be a burden to Brother Ryker!" Leorio roared, throwing off his ruined suit jacket and charging blindly at Phinks.
BAM!
Before Leorio could even reach Phinks, two manipulated pedestrians stepped in the way, delivering a synchronized knee strike to Leorio's gut that knocked the wind out of him.
"Now, now. We aren't going to kill you," Shalnark said pleasantly, holding his bat-winged cellphone. "You're our VIP guests."
"Kid, if you don't want to suffer..." Phinks stepped toward Gon.
"Killua! Now!" Gon yelled, his aura flaring as he launched a desperate, suicidal counterattack.
Killua moved in sync, pushing his body to the limit. For a brief second, their sheer determination caught the Spiders off guard.
But sheer willpower doesn't beat overwhelming stats.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
Franklin laid down a suppressive fire of Nen bullets, pinning them down.
Phinks vanished, reappearing behind the boys.
THUD. THUD.
Two casual chops to the back of the neck. Gon and Killua collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Phinks scooped them up, throwing one over each shoulder like sacks of potatoes.
"Idiots," Phinks scoffed. "With these three as hostages, plus the army of assassins and mafia fodder currently attacking him, that monster's aura will be severely depleted. When he comes for them, we take his head."
"Phinks," Shalnark interrupted, his eyes glued to his phone screen. His expression was grim. "I just got an update from the Dark Web. Every single assassin has dropped the contract. And the Ten Dons' mafia army... they were wiped out."
Phinks scowled. "Tch. I never expected the cannon fodder to actually kill him. Their only job was to tire him out. The Blacklist hunters are cowards anyway."
"If we want to kill this monster, we have to do it ourselves. Shalnark, you lack confidence," Bonolenov stated calmly, his bandages wrapping back around his body.
"I'm not lacking confidence. I'm just wary of variables," Shalnark sighed.
"There are no variables. We have the hostages," Phinks grinned viciously. "Now, we play a game of cat and mouse until we bleed him dry."
The other Spiders nodded. This was the greatest crisis the Troupe had ever faced. To them, right and wrong didn't exist. Ryker killed their family, so Ryker had to die.
"Call him. Call Brother Ryker!" Gon groaned, weakly regaining consciousness. He struggled against Phinks' grip. "Don't let them use us against him!"
Phinks sighed and delivered another swift punch to Gon's ribs, silencing the boy.
"Heh. That's a great idea, actually," a voice echoed through the alley. "But there's no need to call."
The Spiders instantly froze.
The air pressure in the alley plummeted.
They slowly turned around.
Standing at the entrance of the alley, leaning casually against a lamppost with his hands in his pockets, was a young man with a polite, razor-sharp smile.
Ryker.
"I'm here," Ryker smiled, his eyes completely devoid of warmth. "So... how exactly do you plan to threaten me?"
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