Book 7: Chapter 39: Plot Within Plot

Moving against the panicked crowd wasn’t easy. Kurapika shoved through frightened people while anxiously watching the distant, fire-lit battlefield.

Hundreds of armed Gunslingers from the Mafia had flooded the block around Graveyard Building. Yet against just eight Phantom Troupe members, these fighters with rifles and grenades seemed helpless. They could only watch comrades die as enemies closed in.

This clash of modern weapons against Nen Abilities vividly proved why beings atop this world’s food chain held such power—why it was called the Hunter World by Shattered Starry Sky.

Buzz……

Kurapika’s phone vibrated mid-sprint.

“Qin Lun, are you at the battlefield already?” Kurapika asked, surprised. He’d left the noodle shop only slightly later than Qin Lun, yet weaving through crowds near the battlefield in under ten minutes seemed impossible.

“Young man, you have chains! Why crawl on the ground squeezing among ordinary people?!” Qin Lun facepalmed before the monitoring screen.

“Staying on ground level lets me rescue women and children trampled by the crowd!” Kurapika’s calm voice startled Qin Lun. “If you’re there already, did you spot Pakunoda or Shizuku?”

“Kurapika. See that manhole cover to your left?” Qin Lun spoke slowly. “Go down. Someone from the Ten Dons is waiting to guide you to the ambush point.”

“Huh?” Kurapika glanced sideways and spotted the manhole cover. A vein bulged on his forehead. “Hiding in another Monitoring Room again? Using us as tools?”

“Didn’t you accept that when agreeing to work with me?” Qin Lun chuckled, freely admitting it.

“What about Melody?” Kurapika suppressed his anger.

“I’ll notify her. Move quickly—this chance won’t return.” Qin Lun’s tone turned serious as he eyed the screen.

Hmph!

Kurapika crouched, yanked off the cover, and climbed down a rusted ladder into darkness.

“Mr. Kurapika, follow me!” This time, Qin Lun wasn’t lying. Light from a flashlight hit Kurapika’s face the instant his feet touched solid ground.

“This isn’t toward Graveyard Building!” Kurapika frowned after minutes walking the dim tunnel with the black-clad man.

“Relax. One more turn ahead and we’re there,” the man replied, smiling back.

Exactly as promised, a broader tunnel appeared after the next bend. Incandescent bulbs lining the walls flooded it with light.

Kurapika’s eyes widened in disbelief.

This was no sewer.

Before them stretched a three-meter-wide track with rails. A crude engine bearing a spotlight sat upon it. Dust and cobwebs suggested it belonged to an abandoned subway system.

“Yorknew City’s government once planned a subway to the capital,” the guide explained reflectively. “But Yorknew’s Gobi terrain means solid rock underground. The project proved too daunting, so it was scrapped. We’d forgotten this abandoned tunnel existed—until Mr. Qin Lun inquired. That simple engine? We borrowed it from an outer-mining zone, originally hauled iron ore.”

“…What’s he planning?” Kurapika wore a dazed expression, struggling to process the flood of information.

“Mr. Kurapika, wear this oxygen mask to mask our presence!” The man handed Kurapika a mask and pointed toward the engine. “I’ll explain inside. Must avoid triggering the Troupe’s En.”

(En: An advanced fusion of Ten and Ren. Expands Nen outward from the user as a sphere, detecting intruders—including subterranean—within its range.)

Inside the engine, Kurapika stared unblinkingly as the man smiled and elaborated, “Mr. Qin Lun’s a genius… or rather, a criminal mastermind!”

His eyes glinted, hinting at fervor. “Working through the plan, he revealed the Phantom Troupe’s two fatal flaws despite their strength.”

……

Gunfire and explosions intensified as the Troupe encircled Graveyard Building. Hundreds of Gunslingers suffered heavy casualties despite car and building cover. The battleline now stood just a hundred meters from the building.

Rat-tat-tat!

Franklin’s huge frame dominated the fight. His pair of machine guns carved greater carnage than any other Troupe member. Potent Nen bullets shredded cover, executing Mafia shooters.

Strangely, several black-suited Gunslingers fought beside him—apparently traitors within the Mafia.

But unlike Franklin, they lacked Nen defenses. Counter-fire riddled them with bullets like sieves, leaving them bloody on the street.

“Ahaha, all broken! Need more spares!” Shalnark cheerfully dropped from a roadside tree. Those turncoat Gunslingers had been puppets under his control.

BOOM!

A muffled explosion rocked the street. A small villa collapsed, crashing toward the pair.

“Our shadow-friend’s petty tricks again?” Franklin easily dodged debris in a lumbering sidestep. For the Troupe, this felt like child’s play. They’d intercepted similar explosions earlier—startling but harmless.

“Seems he’s out of ideas. Can’t grasp why you and the Leader take him so seriously.” Franklin waved away dust. “Shalnark… Shalnark?!”

His face tightened. Shalnark’s presence had vanished. Franklin sprinted to where the cheerful boy had stood moments ago.

“Damn it!” Franklin stared wide-eyed at the gaping pit before him. At its bottom lay a shadowy tunnel.

BOOM!

Another massive blast erupted from the street’s left—just as Franklin tensed to jump down. Another house collapsed—but not aimed at him. It poured debris onto the pit, completely sealing it.

Trapped, Franklin froze. Recalling his earlier dismissal, he finally understood the Leader’s and Shalnark’s wariness. And the cost—another comrade.

……

“The Troupe’s first weakness is their numbers. Even powerful Nen can’t control an entire battlefield with just a dozen members. Their reaction and rescue capabilities are too limited,” the black-clad man hissed while glaring at Shalnark. Chains cocooned the boy like a dumpling inside the subway car.

“By lulling them early, we created an opening blow using the same trick!”

“So you’re the shadow mastermind behind this!” Remarkably calm despite his bindings, Shalnark scanned the chains with his sunny grin. “What’s our other flaw?”

Internally, Shalnark wasn’t as relaxed as he appeared. He’d dodged the falling villa, never expecting the ground beneath him to erupt and drop into darkness.

A chained trap!

Mid-fall into the tunnel, Shalnark braced for impact. Yet before he landed, rattling silver chains wrapped him tight.

“I’m not Qin—”

“Silence!” Kurapika’s icy interruption cut him off. Disliking Qin Lun didn’t mean revealing his identity to enemies!

“Your second flaw? Meteor Street.” Kurapika’s gaze held an unconscious flicker of respect. “Survival-driven lives forged extraordinary grit and skill—but also bred habit of seizing gains effortlessly. Constant victory spoiled you. You disdain—or never bother—learning true military tactics. Especially three-dimensional warfare in modern cities.”

“So you ignore threats beyond En—from above and below!” Kurapika declared coldly.

“And when enemies obtain a trump card to kill or capture you? That fatal opening becomes decisive!” The guide smirked knowingly at Kurapika. “That gentleman understood small explosives couldn’t harm you… yet kept using them. Ever wonder why?”

“H-he’d planned this endgame since the very beginning?!” Both Shalnark and Kurapika paled upon hearing those words.