Hunter X Hunter: Tombbound Power

"With their personalities, if they meet without working things out, something's bound to give. It's only a matter of time."

Phinks sighed. "If it goes off the rails, and we just stand by watching? Well...that's fine too."

As he spoke, Phinks couldn't help but recall the Battle Olympia he'd attended with Feitan last year.

Before Ronnel joined the Phantom Troupe, Feitan's speed had always been unmatched. No one could touch him.

But then Ronnel stepped into the spotlight. That day, he demonstrated a speed so fierce it couldn't be ignored. Feitan hadn't said anything at the time, but Phinks knew—Feitan had taken it personally.

For someone like Feitan, who took pride in being the fastest, there was no way he'd accept being outdone. From the moment they parted ways after the festival, Feitan had trained relentlessly, pushing himself harder and faster than ever before.

Now, this fight with Ronnel? Phinks knew it was exactly what Feitan had been waiting for.

"Plip!"

A raindrop hit the ground, creating a tiny ripple.

"Plap! Plap!"

Heavy droplets soon followed, cascading from the darkened sky and drumming on the rooftop.

But the four figures standing there—Ronnel, Feitan, Phinks, and Shalnark—remained unfazed. Not a single blink.

They stood silent and unmoving under the downpour, the tension between them building, like an invisible coil winding tighter and tighter.

Until—

"Crack!"

A jagged bolt of lightning split the sky, casting blue-black light over their faces.

Whoosh! Splash!

In an instant, the fight erupted.

Ronnel and Feitan moved simultaneously—bodies flickering through the rain, feet splashing against the soaked roof. Phinks and Shalnark stood on high alert, bracing themselves for what was to come.

"Boom!"

Thunder roared overhead, the storm growing fiercer. The chaotic sounds of combat were swallowed by the crashing rain.

But by the door of the Creston estate, three figures stood quietly in the dark, unnoticed. After lingering a moment, they slipped away without raising suspicion. Not even the Creston family's servants noticed the missing book—vanished from the most prominent spot on Baker's bookshelf.

At the corner of a street, Shalnark stood silently, watching Phinks and Feitan disappear into the rain. His eyes narrowed, deep in thought.

After a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing a number.

"Beep...beep...click."

The line connected, and a soft, calm voice answered.

"Shalnark. What happened?"

"It's the leader," Shalnark said flatly. "Feitan and Ronnel crossed paths tonight. They fought. Phinks and I were there."

The rain eased, turning into a light drizzle.

"And?" came Chrollo's unhurried response.

"Feitan lost."

The rain stopped entirely, leaving only the stillness of the night. Moonlight spilled over Shalnark's figure, making his blonde hair gleam with an almost ethereal glow.

Shalnark tilted his head, gazing at the moon. His voice softened.

"And he lost completely."

Complete defeat.

Despite holding back their ultimate abilities—Feitan's Pain Packer, Rising Sun and Ronnel's Corpse Poison—the outcome was clear.

They fought purely on the fundamentals: strength, speed, technique, and weapon skill. And Feitan lost at every turn.

Though Feitan's raw power ranked fifth in the Troupe, just below Uvogin, Phinks, Franklin, and Hisoka, it wasn't enough against Ronnel.

When it came to speed—his supposed specialty—Feitan had trained tirelessly, but even that wasn't enough. Ronnel was still faster.

Feitan's fighting style, honed through years of killing, couldn't match the refined techniques Ronnel had learned from two top disciplines: Shingen-ryu and Subai. In every clash, Feitan's raw brutality was outclassed by Ronnel's precision.

Even in weapon combat, Feitan's umbrella sword couldn't hold up against the nen-forged blade of Subai.

This was why Shalnark had said Feitan lost "completely."

"Even Feitan lost..."

Chrollo's voice drifted over the line, contemplative.

"I see. It's time to gather the Troupe. We'll meet soon to discuss this in person."

"When, leader?" Shalnark asked.

"End of August. I'll notify everyone."

Meanwhile, at a small hotel...

"The Ice Pearls of the Eternal Night Galaxy..."

Ronnel admired the flawless gem in his hand. Its smooth, iridescent surface gleamed under the dim light. With a faint smile, he tucked it into his space backpack.

"If Bisky knew about this, she'd be overjoyed," he murmured to himself.

Stretching out lazily on the bed, Ronnel stared at the ceiling, replaying the fight with Feitan in his mind.

"Pity," he sighed softly.

If it had been anyone else besides Feitan, Phinks, and Shalnark, he would have killed them on the spot. The thought stirred a familiar itch—a desire to loot their corpses.

With Feitan alone, it would have been an easy kill. But with two opponents? Things would've gotten tricky. And with three? It was enough to make even Ronnel second-guess himself.

Still...

Feitan's Rising Sun, Phinks' Ripper Cyclotron, and Shalnark's Autopilot Mode—each was dangerous in its own right.

If it had been any other trio, Ronnel might have risked injuries just to ensure they stayed down.

But this particular group?

He knew better than to push his luck tonight.

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