Loki said, "Of course."
Watching the two inexplicably decide to join forces, Melody, completely bewildered by the turn of events, glanced from Loki to Kurapika, sensing a profound misunderstanding between them. To team up against the Phantom Troupe, a group of highly dangerous criminals—did they truly comprehend the gravity of their decision?
Baise glanced at Loki. She hadn't expected his target to be the Phantom Troupe. Did he hire her to deal with them? Before, she would have worried about danger, but Loki had saved her, and she wasn't worried now.
"The people ahead are stopping," Kurapika said, observing the convoy in front of them beginning to halt.
A large group of mafia members disembarked from their vehicles, brandishing an assortment of weapons as they advanced towards their target. The sheer number of individuals, their faces contorted with rage, was overwhelming. The attack on the auction, a pivotal event in the underworld, was a profound disgrace to the entire criminal organization.
"Damn it! They think they can escape after attacking our auction!" one of the mafia members roared, his voice filled with fury.
"I want to see who's so bold!" another member shouted, his voice echoing the sentiments of his comrades.
Uvogin and the rest of the Phantom Troupe, perched atop a rocky outcrop, observed the approaching mafia members with a mixture of amusement and disdain.
"They really went out of their way to come and die," Nobunaga chuckled, his voice laced with amusement.
"Hmph! Trash," Feitan muttered, his face grim, his eyes fixed upon the approaching mob, his desire to immediately descend and eliminate them all palpable.
Uvogin, however, intervened, placing a restraining hand on Feitan's shoulder. "Leave these to me," he declared, his voice a low rumble. "You've already gotten your hands dirty. I haven't had a proper workout yet!"
With those words, Uvogin launched himself from the rocky outcrop, his massive frame descending upon the unsuspecting mafia members.
"Don't interfere! I'll handle these guys!" Uvogin bellowed, his voice booming across the landscape.
"Uvogin's still as reckless as ever," Nobunaga remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.
Nobunaga turned his attention to Machi and the others. "Leave these to Uvogin. Let's play cards!" he suggested, his voice light and casual.
"Sounds good. I'm bored anyway," Machi responded, her voice devoid of any emotion.
"Count me in," Franklin added, his voice calm and steady.
"Nobunaga, Feitan, you in?" Nobunaga inquired, his gaze shifting towards Feitan.
"No! I'm not interested in cards," Nobunaga replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced at Feitan, who seemed equally disinterested in the prospect of a card game. "Feitan probably doesn't want to play cards either! Haha!"
"Nobunaga, you want a fight?" Feitan's voice was cold, his gaze fixed intently upon Nobunaga.
Nobunaga, his eyes fixed upon Uvogin's brutal assault on the mafia members below, responded with a hesitant tone. "Let's not. If Chrollo finds out, he might kick me out of the Troupe."
"Hmph! You're afraid of being kicked out?" Feitan scoffed, his voice laced with disbelief and a hint of contempt. He was clearly unimpressed by Nobunaga's rather unconvincing excuse.
"Both of you, quiet down! Intra-Troupe fighting is forbidden. That's the rule," Shizuku interjected, her voice firm and unwavering, her words carrying the weight of authority.
"Oh! It's starting!" Nobunaga exclaimed, his gaze fixed upon Uvogin's approach.
Uvogin, alone, strode towards the amassed ranks of the mafia members, his imposing figure casting a long shadow upon the ground.
"Bastard! You attacked the auction?" one of the mafia members bellowed, his voice filled with fury.
"Do you know who you've angered?" another member shouted, his voice laced with a mixture of menace and disbelief.
"Who ordered you? Tell us, and you'll die easily," a third member threatened, his voice dripping with menace.
Uvogin, unfazed by their threats, simply smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Yep, yep! That's right, we attacked the auction," Uvogin confirmed, his voice casual and nonchalant. "I don't know who we angered, but they seem scary," he added, his tone laced with a hint of playful curiosity.
"Who ordered you? No one. We just wanted to, so we attacked the auction. So don't bother making me die easily," Uvogin continued, his smile widening as he basked in the growing sense of anticipation.
Uvogin, his gaze fixed upon the increasingly agitated mafia members, let out a hearty laugh. "We're going to die anyway, so what difference does it make how we die?" he declared, his voice echoing with a chilling indifference.
"You dare be so arrogant?!" a large, powerfully built mafia member roared, his voice filled with fury. He raised his handgun, aiming it directly at Uvogin, his eyes filled with a cold, steely glint, his gaze conveying the unmistakable message that Uvogin's life was forfeit.
Bang! The trigger was pulled, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the air. A bullet, propelled by the explosive force of the firearm, hurtled towards Uvogin's head.
Uvogin's head tilted back slightly, the force of the impact barely registering upon his massive frame. A wisp of smoke curled from the muzzle of the handgun.
"My, my, that was quite scary," Uvogin remarked, his voice calm and measured, as he casually retrieved the bullet from between his teeth, the slight indentation left by his teeth barely visible. He spoke in a slow, deliberate manner, his words carrying an air of chilling nonchalance.
The mafia member who had fired the shot stood frozen in place, his mind reeling in disbelief at the incredible scene before him.
"This guy… caught the bullet!" one of the mafia members exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of shock and disbelief.
"Impossible! No way he could catch a bullet!" another member shouted, his voice laced with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
The large mafia member who had fired the shot began to sweat profusely, his eyes wide with terror as he stared at Uvogin, his mind struggling to comprehend the reality of the situation. He had unwittingly provoked a creature capable of catching a bullet with his bare teeth.
"I… I…" the mafia member stammered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of his own heart, his mind struggling to process the incredible events that had unfolded before him.
Uvogin, his gaze fixed intently upon the terrified mafia member, raised his hand, bringing it down with a swift, decisive motion.
Crack! A sickening sound echoed through the air as Uvogin's hand connected with the mafia member's head, twisting it a full 180 degrees. The lifeless head, now grotesquely detached from its body, fell to the ground with a thud, sending a fresh wave of terror through the ranks of the remaining mafia members.
The mafia members behind the fallen man, their eyes wide with terror, watched in horror as the lifeless head fell to the ground, their minds struggling to process the incredible display of brute force they had just witnessed. They collapsed to the ground, their bodies trembling with fear.
"No more talk. We're here to fight, so let's begin!" Uvogin declared, his voice booming across the landscape, his words laced with a chilling indifference.
"Hahaha! I haven't had a good workout in ages. I'm getting rusty," Uvogin chuckled, his voice echoing with a mixture of amusement and menace.
With a thunderous roar, Uvogin launched himself into the heart of the mafia ranks, his massive frame moving with surprising speed and agility.
Crack crack crack! The sound of breaking bones echoed through the air as Uvogin's brutal assault continued unabated.
Bang bang bang! Gunfire erupted, the sound of bullets whizzing through the air a constant reminder of the danger. The bullets, however, proved utterly ineffective against Uvogin's formidable Nen, bouncing harmlessly off his body.
The guns were useless. The mafia members' fear escalated into outright terror. What kind of monster was this? Their weapons were completely ineffective.
"Help! Save me!" one of the mafia members screamed, his voice filled with panic.
"Run! Run!" another member shouted, his voice laced with terror.
"Monster! He's a monster!" a third member shrieked, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
Uvogin, a veritable wolf among sheep, proved to be an unstoppable force, his brutal assault leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
In the distance, Dalzollene and the rest of the bodyguard team, having recently disembarked from their vehicles and approached the scene, raised their binoculars to observe the unfolding carnage. Upon witnessing Uvogin's terrifying display of power, Dalzollene's brow furrowed in concern, his forehead slick with a sheen of perspiration.
'What kind of monster is this? His Nen is terrifying! He doesn't even bother dodging the gunfire,' Dalzollene muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and apprehension.
Shachmono, his throat dry, swallowed nervously. "Captain, maybe we shouldn't interfere," he suggested, his voice laced with a hint of apprehension.
"We're no match for that monster," Ivlenkov added, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and resignation.
Dalzollene, acutely aware of the vast disparity in power between his team and Uvogin, hesitated. However, the thought of retreating without taking any action weighed heavily upon his mind. If he returned to his employer without any tangible results, his reputation and standing would suffer a significant blow. His position as captain of the bodyguard team, and his standing in the eyes of his employer, would undoubtedly decline.
At that moment, Loki and Kurapika, along with the rest of their group, approached the scene. Dalzollene, his gaze fixed upon Loki, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, turned to face them.
"The enemy's ahead," Dalzollene announced, his voice calm and measured, his expression betraying none of the apprehension he felt.
"I see. Let me have a look," Loki responded, his voice calm and steady. Having confirmed with Loki that the perpetrators of the auction attack were indeed members of the Phantom Troupe, Kurapika was eager to witness firsthand the nature of these formidable adversaries.
Kurapika, taking the binoculars from Dalzollene, focused his attention upon Uvogin, who was engaged in a brutal assault upon the mafia members. The sheer ferocity of Uvogin's attack, his overwhelming power reducing his opponents to helpless victims, was truly awe-inspiring.
Upon witnessing firsthand a member of the Phantom Troupe in action, Kurapika found himself struggling to suppress the surge of anger that welled up within him. While his outward appearance remained calm and composed, the intensity of his emotions was palpable. Melody, her acute sensitivity to Nen enabling her to perceive Kurapika's internal turmoil, turned her head, her gaze fixed upon Kurapika with a mixture of concern and apprehension. Kurapika's heartbeat, now thrumming with a furious rhythm, was a clear indication of the volcanic rage that threatened to erupt within him.
Just as Melody was about to speak, attempting to calm Kurapika's surging emotions, Dalzollene addressed Loki, his voice laced with a calculated tone. "We don't know the enemy's strength. Loki, your ability involves Nen beasts. Have your Nen beasts test the enemy's strength first," he suggested, his words carefully chosen to manipulate the situation to his advantage.
Upon hearing Dalzollene's words, all eyes turned towards Dalzollene and Loki, their attention riveted upon the unfolding drama. Kurapika, having already assessed the enemy's overwhelming strength through the binoculars, knew that none of the bodyguards present were a match for Uvogin. Yet, Dalzollene's suggestion to deploy Loki's Nen beasts as a means of testing the enemy's strength seemed utterly reckless. While in Yorknew City, the enemy may have been unaware of Loki's presence, and thus unable to locate him, the situation in the open suburban environment was dramatically different. The appearance of Loki's Nen beasts would inevitably lead the enemy to Loki himself.
Loki swiftly caught up to Kurapika, who remained completely engrossed in his rage-fueled contemplation, seemingly oblivious to Loki's approach. Kurapika, his face grim and expressionless, stared intently at Uvogin, who continued his relentless assault upon the mafia members.
"Continuing like this, you won't win, no matter who the enemy is," Loki stated calmly, his voice cutting through the air.
Upon hearing Loki's words, Kurapika's face contorted with fury, his anger flaring anew.
"What did you say? I can't win?" Kurapika roared, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and outrage. He seemed completely oblivious to the speaker's identity, his anger focused solely on the implication that he was incapable of victory.
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