Book 7: Chapter 21: Gathering

“Hmph!” Qin Lun frowned and took a deep breath as he watched the sky gradually dim.

His Detection Aura stretched to a seventy-meter radius. When he thinned its density using Gannett’s Left Eye, the range extended even further. Just a few sweeps allowed him to “see” across large abandoned construction sites.

Yet, the entire day had yielded him nothing. He had scoured the Abandoned District, construction sites, and slums of Yorknew City. He had uncovered many “dirty deals,” including several unidentified individuals possessing Nen Ability, but none seemed to belong to the Phantom Troupe.

“Whatever.” Qin Lun sighed, though no disappointment showed on his face. He never held high hopes for his luck.

Since he couldn’t find the enemies early, he decided to skip the first phase of the Main Plotline. Qin Lun touched his chin, then turned and left the derelict area.

Unbeknownst to him, as he departed from one side, several cloaked figures entered from another. After scattering to meticulously search the grounds of an abandoned apartment complex, they gathered in a decaying church at its edge.

Night gradually submerged the land. The long-dark alleys of the Abandoned District grew shadowy and eerie, yet black shapes occasionally darted into the church like midnight creatures drawn to darkness.

Inside, the moon spilled pale light through stained glass. This church looked forsaken for years. Pews and ornaments had been stripped away; several pillars on either side lay shattered on the floor as strange stone formations.

On a stone podium at the rear sat a youth wrapped in heavy fur. He had elegant features, neatly combed, back-swept hair, and a small black cross tattooed between his brows. Calmly, he flipped through a thick, worn book depicting mysterious symbols; it resembled a religious text.

Stripped of his looks, his detached air closely mirrored Qin Lun without disguise—as if indifferent to everything.

Ahead, thirteen figures sat or stood at the church center. To the far left were two indistinct shapes—one tall, wrapped wholly in white bandages and wearing boxing gloves. The other was small like a child, long hair shadowing their face, revealing only one large, bright eye that blurred gender lines.

Beside them stood three young women. One wore martial attire, her wild violet hair tied back like a giant orchid. Another, clad in a high-neck sweater and large black glasses, looked like a schoolgirl in uniform. The third woman oozed mature allure—tall, in a fitted suit jacket and miniskirt, ample curves sharply defined at the neckline.

To their right stood two massive men. One, thrice normal width, wore a loose kimono, his ears sagging to his shoulders, lips partly stitched together. The other rivaled him in muscle mass—a lion-like man with a mane of hair and rippling brawn that radiated raw power.

A short distance behind them rested four men in varied attire. One, styled like an ancient Japanese samurai with a mustache and wooden clogs, held a sword at his waist. The man beside him wore athletic clothes, sharp golden eyes casting a predatory glare. Behind these two, a fourth stood arms clasped behind his head, beaming sunlight like a cheerful teen.

Beside him was a final small man hidden beneath a long high-collared coat covering half his face like a mask. Center-parted hair framed slit eyes and an aura dense with gloom.

The last occupant lounged by the church window—a handsome redhead whose hair flared like fiery spikes. Stars and blood tears tattooed his cheeks. Clad as a joker, he lazily shuffled a King of cards.

“Leader,” spoke the sun-bright boy happily, hands spread wide. “It’s been too long since we all assembled! What brings us together?”

“Shalnark, no doubt we’re stealing something!” roared the lion-man excitedly. “Right, Leader? What’re we hitting?”

The man on the stone podium closed his thick book and stepped into the light. He addressed his companions: “Our target is the underground Yorknew City Auction.”

“Treasures aplenty there!” cried the samurai-man, eyes sparkling.

“Perhaps a rare antique?” the masked, small man countered softly.

“Everything. All of it.” The handsome Leader smiled from his podium. “We take it all.”

A strange tension simmered beneath his words; unseen currents coiled through the church.

“Leader, that pits us against every Mafia!” The lion-man grinned sharply.

“What now, Uvogin? Afraid?” The Leader laughed at his colossal companion.

“Nah! Just thrilled!” Uvogin’s grin turned savage, baring teeth. “Leader… Can we kill?”

“Of course, Uvogin.” Calmly, the Leader spread his hands. “Anyone hindering us… we slaughter to the last.”

“Oho!” came the heated roar from the gathered…

Yorknew City, evening of September 1st.

As dusk neared, luxury cars crowded towards the Auction Building. Surrounding streets were dominated by the Syndicate; enforcers monitored every corner.

The multi-story Auction blazed like a giant beacon luring denizens of the night. Limousines lined up, disgorging celebrities, magnates, officials, and crime bosses—rare titans, escorted by polished companions.

Ranks of black-suited attendants flanked the entrance—Mafia guards, not Auction staff. Their vigilant eyes flickered across the arrivals, cross-referencing guest lists.

Perhaps spurred by Neon’s Divination Poem, entry screening felt unusually strict. Rooftops near the Auction Building also held silhouettes—likely Hunters and Nen practitioners hired for defense.

“Hiss!” A Cooketini stretch limo halted. Driver Ivanov emerged, opened the rear door, and grinned widely.

Sharenmono, sharp in a tuxedo, escorted the dazzling Baise. She wore a low-shoulder silk gown tonight, intricate updo crowned by a fox fur shawl. Radiating elegance, they took several steps before Baise flinched.

A distant glare made her squint sharply toward its source.

“Hey… Shachmono, Ivanov—head in! I’ll catch up!” She smirked at the direction, informed her companions, then swayed her hips toward the dark corner.

“Baise, you’re here.” Smiling, Qin Lun leaned casually against the wall.

“Patrolling nearby?” Baise asked idly, arms folded in a pool of light. “Speak fast—they’re waiting!”

Qin Lun glanced at the rooftop opposite the Auction. Kurapika and Melody surveilled the front from there. He retreated deeper into shadow, offering the beauty a beckoning wave and a cryptic smile.

“Get closer. I’ll show you something,” Qin Lun held up a pulsing mass like meat—unclear in dim light. “Related to your boss. A human body collection item.”

“What exactly?” Dropping her arms, Baise grumbled near him, peering at his palm. “Huh? It’s—alive!”

The lump, irregular, pulsed rhythmically like a heart—yet unlike any known organ.

“It’s called a Flesh Golem. Takes any form I will it,” Qin Lun’s eyes glinted strangely. His free left hand raised, fingers sharpened as he struck hard behind Baise’s neck.

“You—” Unprepared, caught without Nen Protection, disbelief flashed in her eyes as she slumped towards him.

Moments later, Baise reemerged from the alleyway without obvious change. Yet, walking toward the Auction Building, her smile now looked stiff.