Under the blazing sun, a gust of wind rose from the flat ground, sand and dust swirling into the air.
Chrollo looked toward Kisho and spoke:
"I'm very glad to see that you've returned."
He gazed into Kisho's eyes. After a moment, he smiled.
"It looks like you've already made your decision."
"Ah."
Kisho shrugged.
"Do I even have room to refuse?"
"No."
Chrollo smiled.
"After all, you lost that wager."
Kisho: "..."
Chrollo paid no attention to Kisho's expression. After pondering briefly, he continued:
"However, before you officially join the troupe, there's still one thing you need to do."
Kisho looked at him in confusion. He had originally thought it would just be a formality, but those words—"one thing"—instantly made his whole body tense.
"What thing?"
As he asked, he muttered maliciously under his breath:
"...You're not going to make me write some kind of troupe application, are you?"
But his quiet muttering was no different from shouting to these monsters whose hearing far surpassed that of normal people.
Hearing this, Chrollo froze for a moment. Habitually, he raised a hand to cover his mouth and thought.
"What is an 'application to join the troupe'?"
Then he looked back at Kisho.
"If you want to write one, that's fine too. After you finish, you can show it to me."
Kisho: "...I was joking."
Who in their right mind would want to write something like that!
He straightened his face and asked seriously:
"So—what is it?"
"It's like this."
Chrollo explained:
"Letting you join the troupe is my decision, but whether you're qualified still needs the recognition of the other members."
He smiled and continued:
"I also want to see how much you've improved during this time."
Kisho narrowed his eyes and got straight to the point:
"So actually, that part is the real focus, right?"
Kisho snapped:
"This was a spur-of-the-moment idea, wasn't it?"
The leader nodded matter-of-factly, without the slightest embarrassment.
"That's right."
Kisho: "..."
"You arrived earlier than expected, so some members haven't returned yet."
Chrollo tilted his head slightly, looking at the members behind him.
"But there's no need to wait. You can choose one of us to fight."
"Choose one?"
Kisho raised an eyebrow.
He stared intently at Chrollo.
"Does that include you?"
As soon as his words fell, the people standing behind Chrollo looked as if they'd heard something both unbelievable and utterly hilarious.
The next moment, their eyes lit up as if set ablaze, bursting with excitement.
—It was as if the words "can't wait for chaos" were practically written across their faces.
"Oh?"
By comparison, Chrollo himself was far calmer and more composed.
"If you're sure, I don't have a problem with it."
Kisho fell silent, then followed his heart:
"...I was joking."
For some reason, Hisoka suddenly came to mind—if Hisoka were here, he would probably be crying.
A one-on-one chance to fight Chrollo, just like that, he had given it up himself.
As expected of me—so easily accomplishing something Hisoka couldn't.
"I want to ask a question."
Kisho frowned.
"The fight you mentioned… is it the kind where it only ends when one side is killed?"
Chrollo smiled.
"It seems that guy told you quite a lot."
"That guy" naturally referred to Hisoka, who had passed along the message.
Chrollo then put away his smile.
"That selection method is only necessary when there are no vacancies in the troupe."
He said calmly:
"However, while death isn't mandatory, it also can't be guaranteed that death won't occur."
Kisho nodded.
"I understand."
An answer exactly as expected, and just as expected, filled with the distinctive flavor of Meteor City.
Kisho's expression turned serious.
In that case, he needed to choose his opponent carefully.
As the saying goes, fighting well isn't as good as choosing well.
His gaze swept across the faces of the spiders.
Chrollo was definitely the first to be excluded.
Kisho knew his own strength well—it wasn't yet at the level where he could freely deal with the myriad strange Nen abilities within "Bandit's Secret."
Feitan looked at him coldly, inconspicuously gripping a red umbrella. When he noticed Kisho's gaze fall on him, he gave a chilly smile, his eyes clearly saying,
"If you dare choose me, you're dead."
—As if being chosen by Kisho would mean being looked down on by a brat he didn't think much of.
Kisho withdrew his gaze.
Feitan was out as well. His speed was something Kisho absolutely couldn't react to.
Next was Uvogin, who was grinning broadly, cracking his knuckles, eager to try.
Skip—he might not even be able to break through that defense.
Machi—her Nen threads were far too troublesome. If he failed to sever them within a single second, it would basically mean defeat.
As for the others whose Nen types weren't clearly known, it was best not to choose them either—otherwise he wouldn't even know how he capsized if things went wrong.
After finishing the process of elimination, the remaining choice became very simple.
Kisho's gaze finally settled on Shalnark.
He flashed him a wide grin, his intent obvious.
The moment Shalnark realized he was being targeted, his eyes widened. The relaxed expression on his face instantly turned into disbelief.
"Hey, hey, no way, right?"
He slumped like an eggplant struck by frost.
"Back when you were in the troupe, aside from the leader, I was the one who talked with you the most. No matter how you look at it, I count as your old friend—"
Kisho cut him off coldly, without the slightest sentimentality.
"An old friend who stabbed me with an antenna?"
Shalnark bristled.
"Wasn't that just once?"
Black lines formed.
"It's been so long already! Are you really that vengeful?"
Kisho nodded calmly.
"Ah, yes."
Shalnark: "..."
He shrugged helplessly.
"Well, if that's how it is, there's nothing to be done. Then let's fight."
He slowly stepped forward, walking toward Kisho.
"Well, it's a bit sudden. After all, I'm not a combat-type member, but…"
A smile appeared in his emerald-green eyes.
"I'm not as easy to deal with as you might imagine."
Kisho didn't respond, instead quietly adjusting his breathing.
Of course he knew that.
Anyone who could survive in the troupe—even if they weren't particularly skilled at fighting—once it really came to blows, pulling any one of them out would make them hundreds of levels stronger than those so-called experts outside.
Choosing Shalnark did carry a bit of a revenge motive, but it was far from just that.
Compared to the others, Kisho knew the most about Shalnark's Nen ability. At least by choosing him as an opponent, he had some idea of what to expect.
Even if it was only partial understanding, it was better than going into a "blind fight" against someone else.
As long as he could guard against Shalnark's antenna, it wasn't impossible to win.
Kisho's breathing fully settled. He looked toward Chrollo.
"Are we fighting now?"
Chrollo nodded with a smile and gestured toward the side farther away from the buildings.
"We can go over there a bit."
"Oh."
Kisho responded and stepped forward.
It wasn't as if he didn't have a trump card.
As long as he could create a single instant of opportunity, he could switch Noah Barton out, and pour all of his Nen into his weapon—
Maybe… he really could win?