Hunter X Hunter: Tombbound Power

Phinks seemed in high spirits, chatting without a care. As an Enhancer, he wasn't exactly dim-witted, but overthinking had never been his style. If the leader trusted someone enough to recruit them, that was all Phinks needed to know.

"Besides," he reasoned, "this guy's been with us for two years now without stirring up any trouble. And Machi's instincts didn't raise any alarms, so it's fine~~."

With that comforting thought, Phinks let his initial hostility melt away.

Feitan, however...

"You're the new guy?"

Feitan's narrowed eyes scanned Ronnel from head to toe, as if sizing up prey. His hands flexed instinctively, knuckles tightening. A sharp glint flashed across his gaze—his competitive spirit flaring at the thought that this was the one rumored to be faster than him.

Ronnel stood tall in a black tuxedo that emphasized his lean, upright frame.

"Doesn't look like much," Feitan muttered dismissively.

"Hah! Feitan, at it again?" Phinks teased with a laugh. "You're just like last year, running your mouth at the Battle Olympia... Wait, what're you—?!"

"Shut up, idiot," Feitan snapped without looking.

Ignoring the exchange, Shalnark leaned in curiously toward Ronnel.

"Hey, Ronnel, what brings you here? Weren't you supposed to be the heir to the Creston family or something?"

Ronnel gave an easy smile, slipping effortlessly into his usual persona. "Heir to the Crestons? Me? Nah, I grew up on the streets of Meteor City. There's no way I'm tied to a family like that. But since we're all here anyway, mind telling me what you're after?"

He spoke with such relaxed confidence that Shalnark didn't catch a single crack in the story.

"Huh, weird coincidence," Shalnark mused. "We're after the Crestons too, but mostly for that ice pearl."

At that, Feitan reached into his pocket and produced a shimmering blue orb, letting it glint briefly in the dim light. "This thing?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Ronnel replied smoothly. "To be honest, it's the reason I showed up tonight."

Feitan scoffed, tucking the pearl back into his pocket. "Too bad. You're late."

"Shame," Ronnel sighed, but his expression didn't falter. "By the way, you guys are after something specific from the Creston family, right? I might have picked up a thing or two during my little infiltration. Want to exchange info?"

Phinks, always the straightforward one, brightened at the offer.

"Really? That'd save us a lot of trouble. We're actually here for—"

"Phinks." Feitan cut him off with a sharp glance. His eyes remained on Ronnel, suspicion lingering.

Ronnel smiled knowingly.

"Let me guess: you're looking for that rare book, Candy and the Taste of Pain. I noticed Feitan's outfit—it matches the description of a thief who's been after it."

Feitan's gaze darkened. "And you just happened to see that book at the Creston estate?"

"Yep. Saw it with my own eyes," Ronnel said casually. "If you let me tag along, we could grab it together. But if I get to it first... well, let's just say I won't be handing it over for free."

Feitan stopped mid-step, turning sharply toward Ronnel. His voice was cold, laced with the promise of violence.

"Are you provoking me, b*****d?"

"Hey! Calm down, Feitan!" Phinks and Shalnark darted between the two, trying to de-escalate the rising tension.

"Don't forget the troupe's rules!" Shalnark reminded. "We settle disagreements with the coin, not fists."

"This isn't just a disagreement," Ronnel said with a grin. "It's a contest. I'll make you a deal: If I get the book before you, I keep it. If you get it first, you hold it. Fair?"

Feitan sneered. "And if the book conveniently disappears? Or falls into the river, perhaps?"

"Then you'll just have to catch me before that happens." Ronnel's tone was playful, but his eyes gleamed with challenge.

Feitan's fingers brushed over the hilt of his hidden umbrella sword. "Fine. Let's settle this with strength."

"Perfect." Ronnel rolled his wrists, a grin spreading across his face.

"Loser fetches the book for the winner."

Before Shalnark could protest further, Phinks pulled him back with a knowing look.

"Let them go. This fight was bound to happen sooner or later."

"But—" Shalnark began, only to be silenced by Phinks' firm grip.

The clouds thickened overhead, blotting out the moonlight. Phinks's expression darkened with the shifting shadows.

"Even if they used the coin, this would've ended in a fight anyway. You know how Feitan is... and Ronnel? He's no different. A pair of lunatics, those two."

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