HunterxHunter: I Became Stronger After Death

One Minute Ago

Atop a tall building overlooking the fountain square, Silva Zoldyck stood at the edge of the rooftop. His long hair flowed with the wind as his sharp, wolf-like eyes scanned the square below.

He glanced at the text message on his phone, paused briefly, then pocketed it. Fixing his gaze on the figures below, he focused on one target—

The No. 8 member of the Phantom Troupe.

Below

As night fell, the square's central fountain lit up with a colorful, dancing light show. Streams of water sparkled under vibrant lights, drawing the attention of most passersby.

Children laughed and ran toward the fountain, while adults smiled, captivated by the display.

Meanwhile, Chrollo and the other Phantom Troupe members moved deliberately, steering clear of the distracted crowd. They walked through the dazzling lights, crossing to the edge of the square, their presence a stark contrast to the cheerful ambiance.

On the Rooftop

Silva's piercing gaze locked onto his target, Lucius, the Troupe's No. 8 member.

Nen flowed through Silva like a surging river, but not a trace of malice escaped him. His Nen, sharpened to a fine edge through decades of training, exuded calm precision.

He raised his right hand, focusing his energy. The flowing waves of Nen condensed into a razor-sharp, stalactite-like shape—classic of a Transmutation master preparing a lethal strike.

And then he leapt.

The Descent

Silva launched himself from the rooftop. As he descended, the sharp Nen surrounding his hand transformed into a massive, electrically charged orb over a meter in diameter.

Like a meteor piercing the night sky, Silva aimed directly at Lucius.

The Troupe members—Chrollo, Pakunoda, Shalnark, Shizuku, Machi, Kortopi, and Lucius—instantly felt the fleeting yet overwhelming sense of danger.

The feeling was like a sudden surge of static electricity running through their minds.

It was terrifying in its inevitability: even if they sensed it, their bodies couldn't react in time.

BOOM!

A deafening crash echoed through the city as Silva's Nen attack struck its mark with unerring precision.

The impact shattered the paved stone plaza, leaving a deep crater at the epicenter. Cracks radiated outward in a spiderweb pattern, spanning over 30 meters.

At the center of the destruction lay Lucius's lifeless body. His back was twisted grotesquely, caved in from the force of the strike.

Silva vs. the Troupe

Silva stood motionless beside Lucius's mangled corpse, his expression calm and unaffected.

The remaining Troupe members retreated to the edges of the cracked plaza, their gazes brimming with murderous intent.

Chrollo's eyes were cold and sharp, devoid of visible emotion.

The other members, though visibly shocked, quickly adjusted their demeanor. Yet beneath their composure, a lingering fear gnawed at them:

Had Silva targeted any one of them, the result would have been the same.

Their respect for Silva didn't stem from his overwhelming strength alone—it was his silent, almost invisible killing intent and his flawless execution.

A Killer's Precision

Without sparing a glance at the Troupe, Silva nudged Lucius's corpse with his foot, flipping it over. He retrieved his phone and snapped a photo of Lucius's face.

Even though the Zoldyck family's reputation alone was enough to satisfy most clients, Silva's professional habits demanded proof.

Sending the photo to his client, Silva dialed a number to confirm the kill.

When the call connected, he spoke briefly:

"The target has been eliminated. Transfer the payment to the specified account."

He ended the call immediately, his demeanor calm and unbothered.

This simple action was enough to declare his identity as a professional assassin to the remaining Troupe members.

Chrollo's Ultimatum

Chrollo's gaze never left Silva. His tone was cold but steady, laced with undeniable authority:

"You've killed one of my Troupe members. Now, you have two choices."

He continued, his voice unchanging, devoid of anger or sorrow:

"First, accept my offer and join the Troupe. Second, refuse—and die here."

Silva halted mid-step, turning his head slightly to glance at Chrollo.

From Chrollo's unyielding stance and the controlled waves of Nen emanating from him, Silva could tell that the Troupe leader was no ordinary opponent.

"Interesting…" Silva thought, assessing the young man who could be around Illumi's age.

But rather than respond, Silva turned and resumed walking.

The Tension Escalates

Machi, Shizuku, and the others released a torrent of visible Nen, their killing intent palpable.

The surrounding atmosphere grew heavier, but Silva ignored it entirely.

Chrollo's calm shattered as he vanished from his spot, launching himself at Silva.

The Clash

A split second later, Silva disappeared as well.

BANG!

A loud, echoing thud reverberated through the square as Chrollo and Silva collided mid-air. Their initial exchange sent ripples of Nen through the plaza.

In the blink of an eye, they clashed more than ten times, each blow calculated and deliberate.

A Standoff

Chrollo skidded backward, his feet scraping the ground, white smoke rising from the friction. A faint cut on his arm oozed blood, but he paid it no mind. His piercing eyes remained locked on Silva.

Silva, unmoved, stood firm like a mountain. He regarded Chrollo with measured respect.

Meanwhile…

The chaotic square erupted with panicked screams as bystanders finally realized the gravity of the situation. People fled in all directions, some wailing, others desperately clutching children.

Only the fountain's light show continued undisturbed, its mechanical rhythm indifferent to the unfolding chaos.

Across the City

As terrified civilians poured into the streets, two figures moved against the current.

Hisoka walked leisurely toward the square, his narrow eyes gleaming with curiosity and excitement.

Further away, Moro also strode against the tide of fleeing people. Unlike Hisoka, Moro's gaze was fixed on a nearby vantage point.

Each man had his own plan, but their paths would soon converge at the heart of the chaos.

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