Assassin

There was a collective gasp of awe around the table as Haruto revealed the practical execution of his grand scheme. The precision, foresight, and ingenuity it required were nothing short of extraordinary.

"A technology that we control," Haruto continued, his voice filled with conviction. "A technology that we've harnessed to serve our people and our Kingdom. It's the perfect blend of Nen and human innovation. And as we continue to master it, we'll change the way the world sees us."

Uvogin snorted, breaking the silence. "What makes you so sure the other nations will pay for their trash?" he challenged, his deep voice reverberating around the room. He eyed Haruto with suspicion, the question hanging heavily in the air.

Haruto, rather than being upset, laughed at the skepticism, his amusement filling the room. "You're right, Uvogin," he conceded, leaning back in his throne. "Why would they pay us for their waste?"

Haruto's wild grin took over his face, a gleam of fierce determination dancing in his eyes. "We aren't free from human foolishness either," he began, his words layered with an undercurrent of steel. "We too use Nen for war, for bloodshed. Everyone in this room is formidable, and I dare those nations to refuse our declaration."

The council members exchanged glances, their faces forming matching smirks. His audacity echoed across the room. It was not the words he spoke that commanded respect, but the unfaltering aura that radiated from him. The choice was never a choice: peaceful acceptance or a forceful surrender.

The Council, recognizing this as the turning point for Meteor City, chuckled in unison. The nature of Haruto's ambition was clear as crystal. Despite the skepticism from the world, they saw the potential for change under his rule.

A minute flicker of discomfort twisted Haruto's brows before it was smoothed out, and Canary's eyes narrowed in sync, her hand twitching ever so slightly. The sudden change in atmosphere startled the council members, their gazes darting between Haruto and Canary in rapid succession, confusion etched onto their faces.

"A wild beast has entered my dominion," Haruto murmured, his words so low they were barely a whisper. But silence hung heavily in the room, and the chilling proclamation was audible to all present.

Puzzlement furrowed the brows of his council, a murmur rippling through the room as they exchanged quizzical glances. A beast? Here in Meteor City? Before they could wrap their heads around Haruto's cryptic message, he added, "Our movement has already drawn attention, and their first test begins. An assassin is at our door. What do you say? Shouldn't we be good hosts and welcome them?"

Shock seized their features as they comprehended his words. An assassin? Here, at this moment, daring to strike against Haruto? Anger boiled beneath their skin, but their years of experience told them better. As skilled Nen users, they understood the advantage of the hidden blade. To alert the enemy of their awareness was to relinquish that edge. No flare of Nen erupted from them. Their powers remained subdued yet potent, brewing beneath the surface like a storm threatening to erupt.

The tension was palpable, their anger manifesting in the aura they subtly emanated. Canary, particularly, was a figure of cold wrath. Her aura, sharp and dangerous, gnawed at those around her like an invisible blade. Her eyes, fierce and deadly, were reminiscent of a predator, ever watchful, ever prepared. Yet, there was a certain calm in her readiness, a lethal dance of controlled fury.

The council members knew all too well the contempt the other nations held for Meteor City, their refusal to acknowledge Haruto's reign. Despite their denial, Haruto held his ground, carrying himself with the majestic grace of a monarch. He did not argue or fight for recognition, instead choosing to let his actions voice his prowess.

"Let me handle him," Canary demanded, her voice as sharp as the winter wind. Her usually warm gaze was replaced with a dangerous glare. Haruto turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned her rigid posture, the delicate twitch of her fingers.

"He is strong," Haruto responded, his gaze softened, becoming almost paternal. He didn't want to admit his worry, but his concern echoed in his voice. Canary's heart hitched, and a faint blush colored her cheeks, taken aback by the rare sentiment from him. However, a spark of indignation ignited within her at the mention of an assassin after Haruto. The fear she'd experienced was replaced with cold fury, her anger escalating.

She was about to retort when Haruto swiveled in his chair, his gaze locking onto the oldest member of the council, Koshiro. "Koshiro," Haruto began, his voice filled with a quiet authority that commanded everyone's attention, "he is a master. Invite him in here, and let's see if we can change their mind."

Koshiro raised an eyebrow at Haruto's request. He'd been serving Meteor City for decades, and rarely anything surprised him anymore. However, the fact that Haruto had sensed the assassin's presence left him genuinely baffled. Haruto, after all, was considerably younger and had only been training in Nen for a few years. Yet, his instincts were sharper, and his Nen was stronger. Koshiro tucked away his astonishment for later analysis and instead, nodded curtly.

Navigating through the echoing corridors of the council chamber, Koshiro felt a shiver crawl up his spine. He was no stranger to danger, but this situation, this silent threat lurking in their midst was sending chills down his spine. Following Haruto's guidance, Koshiro found himself standing at the entrance of a dark alley. Yet, he couldn't sense a hint of any presence.

The old man gritted his teeth, shoving down his rising anxiety. He squared his shoulders and called out into the darkness, his voice bouncing off the stone walls. "Our King demands your presence."

As the echo of Koshiro's voice faded, a figure detached itself from the shadows. Illumi Zoldyck, the master assassin, stood before him. Koshiro's eyes narrowed. There was an eerie calmness to the young man that made his skin crawl. His abyss black hair glowed ominously under the dim moonlight, his emotionless eyes as sharp as daggers.

"Okay." Illumi's response was concise, the simplicity of it belying the surprise that lurked beneath the surface. His face remained impassive, but internally, he was grappling with confusion. His hiding spot had been meticulously chosen, virtually undetectable. How had they discovered him? There was no evidence of tracking devices, his anti-tracker should've ensured that. Yet Koshiro looked him in the eye, a sign that they knew of his presence all along. The puzzlement went unspoken, hidden beneath his emotionless facade as he trailed after the elder council member, back towards the heart of the palace.

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