Disrespected All Around

After leaving the meeting, Phinx, Franklin, and Uvogin found themselves luxuriating in the higher echelons of society, a far cry from the squalid environment they were accustomed to in Meteor City. Their tailored suits reeked of power and authority, an outward show of their delegated role as the so-called ambassadors of their nation. Their luggage, sleek and branded, carried an air of unapologetic affluence, catching the eye of many in the crowded airport.

Their next destination was the United States of Saherta, specifically Yorknew City. Boarding yet another commercial plane, they transitioned seamlessly from one metropolitan city to another, each teeming with a populace oblivious to their true intentions.

The three of them sat in first class, being served gourmet meals and exquisite wines as they discussed their strategies, their voices a symphony of gruff confidence and unflappable resolve. Franklin, the behemoth of a man, manipulated his silverware with surprising delicacy, while Uvogin studied the international relations documents spread out before him, his heavy brow furrowed. Phinx, the intellectual powerhouse, led the conversation, his eyes glinting with intrigue as he detailed their tactical maneuvers.

"Remember, we are not here to make friends," Phinx warned, slicing through his filet mignon with lethal precision. "We are here to assert the presence of Meteor City. To scare them into acknowledging us."

Yorknew City greeted them with its characteristic vibrancy, the skyscrapers reflecting the afternoon sunlight as they descended upon the metropolis. The bustling city presented an entirely different kind of battlefield, its busy streets filled with potential alliances and adversaries. Unbeknownst to the masses, the city was soon to become the stage for a political showdown of unprecedented scale.

Their first day in Yorknew City was spent arranging meetings with the country's top brass and presenting their diplomatic credentials. Their negotiations were handled with the finesse of seasoned diplomats, a stark contrast to their usual demeanor.

As the limousine pulled up to the towering edifice of the government building, Phinx, Franklin, and Uvogin stepped out, looking every bit the part of dignified ambassadors. Uvogin, usually the image of wild abandon, wore a mask of uncharacteristic poise, his massive frame tailored perfectly into the suit he donned. Their arrival, punctuated by the purr of the luxury vehicle, resonated with the quiet assertion of a power that belonged to a burgeoning nation, its place in the global stage yet to be recognized.

In the grand conference room, they were ushered towards the long mahogany table, where the Minister of Environment and Minister of Foreign Policies were seated, accompanied by a retinue of aides and assistants. Phinx could sense the shrouded presence of Nen masters, their energy like undercurrents in the air. However, he chose to disregard their existence. They were there to negotiate, their words their weapons, for the time being.

"Sirs, we are representatives from Meteor Kingdom," Phinx began, his voice resonating in the chamber as he unrolled a set of documents before the ministers. "Our King, Haruto, extends his greetings. He aspires for diplomatic relationships that would benefit both our nations."

Phinx cleared his throat, his eyes piercing the room. "In his foresight, King Haruto has determined that Meteor Kingdom can no longer serve as the world's dumping ground." He slid a document across the table, a declaration of refuse independence, a proclamation in a crisp envelope embossed with a royal insignia.

The Minister of Environment, a woman of advanced years with a no-nonsense air about her, scanned the document, her sharp eyes reading over King Haruto's decree.

"A dumping ground?" she scoffed, dismissively tossing the document back onto the table. "You make it sound as if you're doing us a favor. Let's not forget, your 'kingdom' was built on our refuse."

Uvogin growled from the corner of his mouth, his eyes smoldering with fury. Phinx silenced him with a curt shake of his head, the muscular man immediately falling silent. It was a testament to Haruto's unspoken influence, the way they heeded his strategies, his orders to keep a calm and composed front.

"We are not here to discuss the past, madam," Franklin interjected, his voice a low, rolling thunder. His impassive face remained poised, a far cry from the rage they usually instilled. "Our king's declaration is a statement about the future. And it is that future we wish to negotiate."

Phinx leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on the table. A knowing smile played at the corner of his lips as he glanced at Franklin and Uvogin. The three men were suddenly surrounded by a visible aura, shimmering with an unseen power that flowed from their beings. It was a demonstration of their inner strength, a proclamation of their readiness to fight. The aura was faint, not to suffocate the civilians present, but enough to make a point. The faces of the ministers paled, momentarily taken aback by the abrupt shift in the atmosphere.

A stern-looking man, presumably one of the hidden Nen Masters, shifted uncomfortably from his position in the corner of the room. He was accustomed to being a silent observer, an unseen force during these negotiations. Yet, the aura of these three men from Meteor Kingdom made him wary.

Taking advantage of the tense silence, Phinx cleared his throat. "King Haruto may be young," he started, his voice echoing in the room, a pointed glint in his eyes as he held the gaze of each minister, "but his vision, his superior intellect and power surpass your comprehension. Ask your hidden Nen Masters here, how difficult it is for them to hide from me, then contemplate how I achieved such mastery at this age. Then, imagine that power multiplied a hundredfold. That is King Haruto."

The room went silent, save for the soft rustle of paperwork and the nervous clearing of throats. The ministers shifted in their seats, their eyes darting towards the shadows where the Nen Masters hid.

"We are not here for negotiations," Phinx continued, his voice steady and unyielding. "We are here to declare that Meteor Kingdom will no longer accept your refuse. We are not desperate for your recognition. It will come eventually when the world acknowledges His Highness's true might."

With a nod from Phinx, Uvogin and Franklin rose from their seats. Their movements were synchronized, an unnerving harmony that spoke volumes of their unity and discipline. Uvogin, the muscle of their group, gave a curt nod, a silent goodbye that echoed his newfound poise. Franklin, his cool demeanor a mask over the simmering rage, turned on his heel, following his comrades.

Phinx allowed himself a moment to survey the room one last time before getting up. His gaze brushed over the flustered ministers, the fumbling aides, and the shocked Nen Masters. A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He had made his point.

"We will take our leave now," Phinx stated, his voice as calm as the eye of a storm. He straightened his suit jacket and followed his companions out of the room, leaving behind a ripple of unease.

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