Gone Mad
Everything happened far too suddenly.
The proclamation of victory from the sky directly interrupted Hisoka's exhilarated emotions.
"..."
Caught off guard, Hisoka inevitably missed the best moment to react.
He failed to retract the Bungee Gum attached to the playing cards before the distance caused it to snap.
The speed of the returning nen bullet was simply too fast.
Clearly, in its returning state, the nen bullet's size and velocity had at least doubled.
Hisoka now understood Moro's ability.
From the very beginning, his opponent had planned for an escape.
And he, unable to resist the "temptation," had foolishly fallen into the trap.
Love… always blinds us.
But how could he just let go?
In an instant, Hisoka's aura exploded. The excitement and euphoria disappeared, replaced by a deranged madness.
His desires had swelled to an uncontrollable extent, demanding release and catharsis!
"Bungee Gum."
Hisoka's manic grin spread as he fixed his gaze on the rapidly retreating Moro.
With astonishing speed, he launched the pink elastic threads toward a roadside tree, crafting a giant slingshot.
Hisoka himself became the projectile, encased in a cocoon of pink nen.
Creak, creak—
The pink nen, possessing the properties of both rubber and gum, stretched and compressed under immense tension.
Thwang!
With a sharp snap, Hisoka shot into the sky like a cannonball, his speed so great it generated visible shockwaves in the air.
On the nen bullet.
Moro narrowed his eyes against the fierce wind generated by the high-speed flight. He showed no concern about where the bullet might take him.
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, a chill ran down Moro's spine. Instinctively, he looked back and saw Hisoka's deranged face.
The man was flying toward him, airborne.
In that moment, Moro immediately understood what Hisoka had done.
"This lunatic… is he insane?"
Moro couldn't believe his eyes.
At such a distance, there was no way Hisoka could catch up using just Bungee Gum's rebound force.
Yet that was exactly what he was attempting.
As Hisoka hurtled through the air, his speed soon began to wane, and his trajectory shifted downward.
Watching Hisoka lose momentum and plummet, Moro's expression turned slightly complicated.
He couldn't help but feel as if he had pushed Hisoka beyond what the man's mind could bear, driving him into madness.
If this continued, Moro doubted whether Hisoka would even honor their bet…
But there was no point dwelling on it now.
Moro gave a casual wave toward Hisoka as a farewell.
Hisoka noticed Moro's waving gesture. His manic expression froze for a moment—not because of the wave itself, but because he realized his overwhelming desire had nowhere to go.
"Ah…"
Hisoka, now devoid of energy, let his body freefall toward the ground like a lifeless doll.
The figure of Moro grew smaller and smaller in his vision, disappearing into the distance.
Gone mad. Gone limp.
Somewhere in the City
Silva Zoldyck flexed his slightly sore wrist, striding toward the shadows where the streetlights didn't reach.
"The Phantom Troupe…"
His muttered words echoed in the dark alley.
The bounty for assassinating one of their members had been substantial, but Silva found the task far from worthwhile.
It had been taxing, physically and mentally. Worse, the Troupe had relentlessly pursued him for revenge.
Initially, Silva had avoided direct conflict, focusing instead on escaping. However, the group's persistence eventually pushed him to his limit.
Even a seasoned assassin had his temper.
Faced with their relentless pursuit, Silva finally considered eliminating one or two of them to send a warning.
Yet when he attempted to act on this thought, he discovered that extracting a member from their tightly knit team was no easy feat.
The young leader and his black-and-red book of abilities were the key reasons for this difficulty.
If it were a one-on-one fight, Silva could handle it.
But the leader's strategic brilliance and coordination turned the Troupe into an unbreakable unit, repeatedly neutralizing Silva's attempts.
After several attempts, Silva realized that defeating them would come at too high a cost.
Frustrated but pragmatic, Silva abandoned the idea of further engagement, focusing solely on escape.
At last, he had shaken off their pursuit.
Silva walked silently down the alley, committing the Phantom Troupe—and especially their leader—to memory.
If another contract involving them came his way, he wouldn't necessarily refuse, but the price would need to be several times higher…
Back at the Plaza
Sirens wailed in the distance, drawing closer.
The chaos that began at the fountain square had mobilized the city's police force.
One by one, police cars converged on the Troupe's location—right into their line of fire.
Their mood already sour, the Troupe vented their frustration on the arriving officers.
Within moments, the approaching police cars were left as burning wrecks, plumes of black smoke rising into the night sky.
The acrid stench of gasoline filled the air, mingling with the fiery glow of wreckage.
Kortopi stood silently, watching the flames.
"How's Feitan's team holding up?" Shalnark asked, glancing at his phone while looking toward the battle site.
Chrollo stood expressionless, while Machi, Nobunaga, and Pakunoda scanned the surroundings, staying alert.
As the smoke cleared, a new group emerged from the shadows—armed and hostile.
"Bounty hunters," Machi muttered, casually drawing a nen thread.
"Shall we regroup with Feitan?" Nobunaga asked, ignoring the bounty hunters entirely.
Machi and the others turned to Chrollo, awaiting his decision.
Before Chrollo could respond, his gaze suddenly snapped upward.
Through the rising smoke, a dark figure descended like a meteor, slamming into the ground.
Boom!
The impact fractured the earth, kicking up a thick cloud of dust.
The surrounding hunters, Troupe members, and civilians all turned toward the source of the crash.
Even before the dust cleared, a chilling aura filled the air, sending shivers down their spines.
The figure that had fallen was Hisoka.
"Disappointed… disappointed… disappointed…"
Hisoka staggered to his feet, swaying unsteadily like a zombie.
The sinister aura radiating from him made even the Troupe uneasy.
Hisoka finally steadied himself and locked his gaze onto the nearby bounty hunters.
In that instant, the hunters froze, as if Hisoka's gaze alone had choked the air from their lungs.
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