The next day at noon.
The sun hung high in the sky, blazing hot—its harsh light reflected off the descending silhouette of a black airship as it slowly touched down just outside Sky Arena.
Two figures stepped out.
One was grotesquely fat, his bloated belly straining against his coat, each step seeming to ripple through his bulk like jelly. The other was deathly thin, his cheeks sunken, skin tight across his bones like a desiccated corpse.
They didn't speak. They didn't need to.
The Yin Beasts had arrived.
These two had been dispatched the moment orders came in the night before. Their mission: track down the assassin who had murdered Murphy Hegel. Alive.
And these two—Sick Dog and Leech—were perfect for the job.
Sick Dog was an Enhancer. His Nen had strengthened his jaws to an unnatural degree; he could bite through reinforced steel with ease. His saliva was laced with a highly toxin's—anyone bitten by him would find their muscles locking, their Nen weakening, and their consciousness fading. Capturing prey alive was his specialty.
Leech, by contrast, was a Manipulator. His stomach housed countless species of Nen-enhanced leeches, each bred for specific tortures—paralysis, agony, hallucinations. His talents weren't suited for open combat, but for what came after: interrogation. He could reduce even hardened assassins into whimpering wrecks.
That was exactly what Lord Monroe needed. He didn't just want the killer dead. He wanted answers. And pain.
As the two stepped off the airship, a fleet of black luxury cars screeched to a halt in front of them. Leading the entourage was Roger, who bowed deeply.
"Sick Dog. Leech. This way, please."
Without a word, the Yin Beasts entered the vehicles. The motorcade sped toward the Teiro International Hotel, cutting through the city like a serpent hunting prey.
Within minutes, they were in the underground garage, and from there, they took a private elevator straight to the top floor. Waiting in a private conference room was Nar, commander of the local Teiro forces—sharp-featured, mid-thirties, radiating cold calculation.
"Lord Nar," Roger whispered as he leaned in, "the Yin Beasts have arrived."
Nar didn't look up at first. He was still flipping through the case file. But a moment later, he raised his head with a polite smile. "Welcome, gentlemen. Please, take a seat."
"No need," Sick Dog snapped, voice gravelly. "Just give us the target info. We'll handle the rest."
He grinned, baring his sharpened teeth. "After all, the Ten Elders are expecting us to bring this bastard back alive—for a proper chat."
Roger's face twitched slightly. He glanced at Nar.
The smile had vanished from Nar's lips.
Even so, Roger cleared his throat and stepped forward. "We've managed to gather intelligence on the assassin, but I must warn you—he's not an easy opponent. Even Sandro, a combatant with five consecutive wins in the 200th Floor, was killed by him."
"That's no cause for concern," Sick Dog scoffed. "You call that trash a master? The 200th Floor is full of amateurs. Five wins means nothing. He wasn't even close to Floor Master level. Worthless."
"Let us handle it. We Yin Beasts don't waste time. This so-called killer? He's about to learn what a real monster looks like."
He waved dismissively, all arrogance and menace. "Just show us the intel."
Nar's expression finally cracked.
BANG!
He slammed a hand down on the table. "Roger. Give them everything. Then escort them to hunt this bastard down—immediately."
The lights dimmed. A projection screen dropped from the ceiling. Vega's image flickered to life.
"This is the man who assassinated Murphy Monroe," Roger explained. "Based on footage and ticket records, he boarded an airship from Nacro City, arrived at Sky Arena yesterday morning, watched several fights… then disappeared."
"Later that night, he entered the Teiro Hotel and killed both the elevator attendant and Mr. Murphy."
Leech let out a low chuckle. "He's bold. I like that. But boldness alone won't save him."
Roger continued, "We identified him as Vega Pengellet, head of the Pengellet family. He recently unified Nacro City after a brutal campaign. Not long ago, Nacro was controlled by two factions—one of which was loyal to Murphy."
"After Vega seized power, several of Murphy's Nen-capable subordinates left the Sky Arena for Nacro… and never came back. Days later, Vega arrived here."
He looked at the Yin Beasts carefully. "Given that, this seems to be a personal vendetta. Our hotel bears no responsibility for it."
Leech shrugged. "Not our concern. We're not here to assign blame. We're here to bring him in."
Roger went on, "After the assassination, Vega didn't flee. In fact… he bought a ticket to watch today's matches."
Sick Dog raised an eyebrow. "What, he thinks he's untouchable?"
"We also checked—he hasn't signed up to compete. Which means he's not here to climb the tower."
Roger lowered his voice. "It feels like… he's daring us to come for him."
Sick Dog snorted. "He thinks he's a big shot. That we'll hesitate. He's wrong."
Leech's grin widened. "Let's not keep him waiting, then."
"Where is he now?" Sick Dog asked.
"Still watching the fights. Main arena, Sector C," Roger replied.
Sick Dog cracked his knuckles. "Perfect. Let's pay Mr. Vega a visit."
Leech licked his lips, already imagining the sound of Vega's screams.