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I'm Really Not A Nen Exorcist (HxH Fanfic)

In a world filled with unknown Auras, bizarre Nen abilities evolved from strong personalities, dangerous calamities from outside this world, and Nen Artifacts crafted from Post-Mortem Nen. This is the world of Hunter x Hunter. An this world, anyone can gradually master the extraordinary power called "Nen", but those who can truly access "Nen" are extremely rare. Moses unexpectedly crosses over into this world. One day, after having just learned Nen, he suddenly heard a voice. “Because of your exceptional looks, Perception is very satisfied. Your Nen Exorcist count +1.” Advanced Chapters: patreon.com/ChickenGOD

God_of_Chicken · アニメ·コミックス
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383 Chs

Chapter 71 Swamp Man

The Phantom Troupe is a notorious criminal organization with only thirteen members, each possessing powerful Nen abilities.

From its inception, the group has engaged in various infamous criminal activities, adhering to the philosophy of 'Take what you want'.

Executing this ideology, the Phantom Troupe has been brazenly reckless, committing acts of arson, murder, and robbery.

Because of this, it only took a short time for the Phantom Troupe to go from obscurity to becoming the infamous A-level criminal group it is today.

Initially, countless bounty hunters targeted the group attracted by its notorious reputation.

However, those bounty hunters who went for the Phantom Troupe ended up losing their lives without exception.

It's important to note that the Phantom Troupe only assembles its members when preparing to 'perform' a large-scale criminal operation based on the leader's instructions.

Because of this mechanism, it is not strange for the entire Phantom Troupe to gather together only once every two or three years.

Although the leader of the Phantom Troupe occasionally issued instructions to 'come if you're free', there is always someone absent on each occasion.

Most of the time, the members of the Phantom Troupe will just act independently, scattered around the world according to their individual preferences.

However, even with this decentralized approach...

Those bounty hunters who went after the Phantom Troupe never achieved any success, highlighting the group's formidable and elusive nature.

Chrollo Lucilfer is the leader of the Phantom Troupe and also the soul of the group.

One of his hobbies is reading various books, covering a wide range of topics. Anything that piques his interest, even ethical books, is within his reading scope.

If he had to pick out a favorite theme from various genres, it would likely be 'soul' and 'human nature'.

Swamp Man is a popular book published just this year, with a theme related to soul and human nature, perfectly aligning with Chrollo's reading preferences.

Even Chrollo, who is well-read, gave this book high recognition.

So, he thought of personally getting a signed copy to add to his collection, but the author of Swamp Man doesn't seem to like holding book signing events.

Hence, from the time of publication until now, only a handful of book signing events have been held.

This is also the reason why Chrollo came to Swardani City.

To obtain a personally signed copy of the book, he came to a city crowded with numerous Hunters, all while carrying the identity of a Class-A wanted criminal. This truly embodies the initial principles when establishing the Phantom Troupe.

Compared to waiting in line at the book signing event, directly plundering is more consistent with the identity of a 'thief'.

As for killing people?

In Chrollo's eyes, a human unrelated to him is nothing more than a moving mass of flesh.

And to him, there is no difference between a moving mass of flesh and an immobile one.

Ignoring the body of the young man lying on the ground, Chrollo looked at the signature on the cover of Swamp Man, and felt a little satisfaction rising from the bottom of his heart.

Having obtained what he wanted, this journey was not in vain.

"Head."

A woman's voice came from the apartment door.

The woman who spoke is Pakunoda, the 9th member of the Phantom Troupe.

During idle times, Phantom Troupe's members engage in individual activities, except Pakunoda, who always follows the leader, Chrollo.

To put it bluntly, she is an inseparable secretary.

"It's time to go."

Pakunoda looked at Chrollo next to the corpse and reminded him.

For criminals like them, Swardani City is not a good place.

Even with simple disguises, they might not be able to avoid certain prying eyes.

So in Pakunoda's view, since they've already obtained what they wanted, there is no need to stay anymore, and leaving directly is the safest course of action.

This was also the original intention behind her reminder.

Chrollo nodded slightly to Pakunoda in response.

He had no intention of staying in Swardani City for a long time.

"Let's go."

With the signed copy of Swamp Man in hand, Chrollo walked out of the apartment door, stepping past Pakunoda.

Pakunoda closed the door and followed behind Chrollo.

After the two people left, the room fell into a deathly silence.

On the living room floor, the body lay face down, the blood flowing from the body formed a shallow pool on the side.

After a while…

A bubble suddenly emerged in the blood pool, pushing aside the surrounding dark red blood.

It was a black bubble, like an inverted bowl on the blood pool, with a surface that was black, smooth, and free of any bloodstains.

The black bubble appeared for a moment, then expanded and grew in size at a speed visible to the naked eye. In just a moment, it became a dark silhouette almost identical in size and height to the corpse.

The black figure created from the bubble stood on the blood pool, lowering its head to silently gaze at the corpse.

A few seconds later…

The pitch-black figure slowly squatted down and stretched out his right hand to touch the body.

"Crack-"

At the moment it touched the corpse, accompanied by a very brief bursting sound, a dazzling electric arc flashed and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

When the electric arc dissipated, both the corpse and the blood pool seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving only a human-shaped scorch mark covered with ashes on the ground.

It's as if-

The one scene described in the book 'Swamp Man':

"Lightning struck numerous times."

"With a deafening roar, in the lightning that was more dazzling than the sun, a complete human was evaporated from the world, leaving only a human-shaped scorch mark on the place as proof of his 'existence'."

"Beside this strange sight, the swamp, emitting an air of death, suddenly formed a huge bubble."

"Snap."

"The bubble burst without warning, and the scattered black liquid, like shadows, moved into the human-shaped scorch mark, as if molten iron poured into a mold..."

"Another thunder flashed."

"The 'human' that had evaporated a few seconds ago returned to the world."

"However, the human-shaped scorch mark would remain eternal."

Inside the room.

Next to the human-shaped scorch mark.

The pitch-black silhouette that had manifested from the blood pool a few seconds ago had now transformed into the appearance of a young man.

Inheriting everything the young man had, he casually picked up the remote control from the coffee table, turned on the TV, and started watching his daily TV-series.

The light reflected from the TV, flickering unpredictably, fell on the human-shaped scorch mark.

There is an indescribable weird feeling...

Swardani City Airport.

Not long ago, a privately chartered airship took off slowly from the airport.

The person who chartered the airship is Davidson Donald, the author of Swamp Man.

Now, this airship flies over the sky of Swardani City.

Sitting by the window was a man wearing a dark gray suit.

The man has shoulder-length silver hair, with a face as pale as wax, and eyes as black as an abyss, revealing no discernible emotions.

This man is Davidson, the author of Swamp Man.

"Verification completed."

Davidson lowered his head slightly, and the outline of Swardani City was reflected in his pitch-black eyes.

"Spread, let this horribly wretched world... vanish like bubbles."

His voice was as cold as a robot.

 

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