Chapter 71 New Life 04 Phantom Troupe
Ayana's heart skipped a beat, and the bread slipped from her hands, falling to the ground with a "thud," but she didn't even notice.
She looked up, staring blankly at the man in front of her.
The dim yellow light of the streetlights softly outlined his features. The man's short black hair fell softly over his forehead. His face had lost the immaturity of his youth and become more composed and mature. Only his eyes remained as dark and deep as she remembered them.
Time seemed to twist and overlap at this moment.
"...Kuroro?" Aiana's voice trembled slightly with uncertainty as she asked, "Is it you?"
“It’s me.” Kuroro’s lips curved into a very faint smile as his gaze lingered on Ayana’s face. “It’s been a long time.”
His tone was calm, even gentle, but his eyes shone with a light far more complex and unpredictable than when he was a teenager.
Ayana was somewhat dazed; the immense shock and the emotions that surged again after being washed away by time left her speechless for a moment.
She looked at Kuroro, but what came to mind was the skinny boy who handed her a piece of bread in the junkyard of the meteor shower.
"You've grown up." A thousand words choked in my throat, but in the end, they all boiled down to this simplest statement.
Her eyes held an obvious longing and a tenderness that she herself was unaware of.
Kuroro took a small step forward, closing the distance between them. He ignored the bread that had fallen to the ground, his gaze remaining fixed on her face.
“Ayana seems to have remained unchanged.” He spoke slowly, his voice low.
“A lot has happened,” Ayana answered him vaguely, instinctively avoiding Kuroro’s probing gaze, and bending down to pick up the bread on the ground, trying to hide the turmoil in her heart.
Kuroro was faster than her.
He gracefully bent down, picked up the dusty bread, gently brushed off the dust, and then handed it back to her.
"It seems you're not doing very well right now." His tone remained flat, making it impossible to tell whether he was stating a fact or showing concern, but his gaze lingered for a moment on her simple clothes and the cheap food in her hand.
Ayana took the bread, her fingertips inevitably touching his hand. A slightly cool touch sent a shiver through her heart.
She looked up and met his unfathomable black eyes once more.
"How did you get here?" she asked again.
Kuroro did not answer immediately.
He looked at Ayana, his eyes seeming to see right through her disguise and her cautiousness.
After a long pause, he smiled slightly and said, "There's an interesting auction going on in this city. I'll come and take a look."
He paused for a moment, his deep black eyes lingering on Ayana's face for a brief instant before continuing, his tone carrying an enigmatic quality.
"I never expected to run into Ayana here."
Kuroro's gaze swept over the somewhat shabby rye bread in her hand, then slowly moved back to her slightly uneasy face.
His gaze swept over the bread in Ayana's hand. "Make it even tastier, it's on you."
Kuroro didn't use a forceful command, nor did he appear overly enthusiastic; he simply offered an invitation that seemed reasonable and carried a hint of consideration.
But the invitation he gave carried an air of non-negotiability.
Ayana hesitated for a moment, then agreed.
Kuroro nodded, seemingly unsurprised by her cooperation.
“Come with me.” He turned around, his movements natural and composed, as if he were certain she would follow.
Ayana took a step forward, following half a step behind Kuroro.
Kuroro stopped in front of a small restaurant with dim yellow lanterns hanging around its entrance, which looked quite old.
The restaurant was filled with the warm aroma of food and the faint sounds of conversation, creating a peaceful atmosphere.
He pushed open the somewhat heavy wooden door and gestured for Ayana to go in first.
The store is softly lit and simply yet cleanly decorated.
Kuroro seemed to be very familiar with the place and went straight to a seat at the back.
He took the menu from the waiter, but didn't look at it. Instead, he pushed it directly in front of Ayana.
"See what you'd like to eat," he said, his gaze returning to her face. "Don't be shy."
Ayana held the menu, her fingertips slightly warm.
This familiar yet unfamiliar care left her with mixed feelings.
She lowered her head and hastily ordered what looked like the most ordinary set meal, wanting only to end this dinner that was making her uneasy as soon as possible.
Kuroro didn't order anything else, but simply nodded slightly to the waiter, indicating that she would order the same thing.
After the waiter left, a brief silence fell.
The only sounds were the low background noise from inside the restaurant and the faint sounds of alleyways coming from outside the window.
Kuroro leaned back slightly in his chair, his hands casually folded on the table, his gaze calmly fixed on Ayana, who was clearly tense across from him.
“Then,” he broke the silence first, his voice low and steady, “Ayana, can you tell me where you’ve been all these years?”
Ayana gripped her water glass tightly, remaining silent for a long time.
After an unknown amount of time, she took a deep breath, raised her eyes, and met Kuroro's calm gaze. Her voice carried an almost ethereal weariness: "I'm dead."
Kuroro's interlaced fingers paused almost imperceptibly, but his expression remained unchanged. Only his dark eyes deepened as he quietly awaited her next words.
“At least to everyone else, I was dead.” Ayana tugged at the corner of her mouth, revealing a bitter smile. “When I regained consciousness, decades had passed, but I was still the same as when I left.”
She omitted the inexplicable parts about the system and tasks, and only gave this seemingly absurd yet true reason.
After Ayana finished speaking, she pursed her lips, waiting for Kuroro's questions or further exploration.
This claim was so outlandish that even she herself found it hard to believe.
However, Kuroro simply stared at her silently for a moment, and after a long while, he nodded very slightly.
"I see." His tone remained calm.
Kuroro leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them, his voice deep and clear.
“Then, this time I won’t let you die again, Ayana.”
This statement doesn't sound like a love confession; it's more like a declaration, a promise based on overwhelming power and absolute will.
It fell lightly, yet with immense force, striking Ayana's heart.
While she felt a strange sense of relief, a chill also inexplicably ran down her spine.
At this moment, the waiter brought out the food they had ordered, and the steaming aroma temporarily dispelled the heavy, stagnant atmosphere.
Kuroro didn't continue the topic, but instead began to eat like any ordinary friend, his movements elegant and composed.
The meal ended in a subtle and complex atmosphere.
Kuroro paid the bill naturally, and the two walked out of the restaurant, the night breeze carrying a cool breeze.
“I’ll take you home,” he said.
Ayana did not object and walked silently beside him.
A profound silence flowed between the two of them on that short stretch of road.
Ayana stopped walking when the hotel sign came into view.
"I have arrived."
Kuroro stopped as well, his gaze sweeping over the rather shabby-looking hotel facade before finally settling back on her face.
"What are your plans for tomorrow?" he asked casually, as if it were just a casual remark.
Ayana remembered the auction house manager saying they were on standby at any time, but no specific tasks were assigned, so she didn't have any clear arrangements.
"...It's nothing," she replied truthfully.
Kuroro nodded. In the darkness, his outline appeared somewhat blurred, but his eyes remained clear.
“Perfect timing.” He looked at her and extended an invitation that made Ayana’s heart skip a beat. “I know a place with beautiful scenery and it’s quiet. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”
This is not an inquiry, but an announcement.
He seemed to have already anticipated that she wouldn't have any other plans, and was certain that she wouldn't refuse.
Ayana opened her mouth, the words of refusal swirling on her tongue, but ultimately turned into a barely perceptible nod.
"…good."
Kuroro's lips seemed to curve into that faint smile again.
"Get some rest, Ayana."
After he finished speaking, he didn't linger. He turned and disappeared into the night, his figure quickly vanishing at the end of the alley.
Ayana stood there, motionless for a long time.
The night breeze caressed her slightly flushed cheeks, her mind a jumble of emotions.
She gripped the room key tightly, made a sound, and then turned and walked into the hotel.
Ayana slept very restlessly that night.
The dream was bizarre and fantastical; one moment it was dust filling the Meteor City and the silent black-haired boy, the next it was Illumi's empty cat eyes and Hisoka's twisted smile.
Finally, the image settled on Kuroro's dark eyes, which seemed capable of devouring everything.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the thin curtains.
Ayana woke up early, her mind still in turmoil.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt a strange mix of nervousness and secret anticipation about the upcoming date.
She changed into her most presentable casual clothes, which were still simple, but at least clean and tidy.
Almost the instant she finished tidying up, there was a steady, rhythmic knocking at the door.
Not too early, not too late, demonstrating a person's precise sense of time.
Ayana took a deep breath and opened the door.
Kuroro stood outside the door, still dressed in simple black, his posture upright.
The morning light cast a faint golden hue on him, making him appear less mysterious than in the night and more refined.
His gaze settled calmly on her face as he gently asked, "Ready?"
Ayana nodded and silently followed in Kuroro's footsteps.
Kuroro didn't take her to any bustling markets or restaurants. Instead, he led her through the streets of the small town as it gradually awakened in the morning, and then along a winding uphill path to a low hill on the edge of the city.
The buildings on both sides of the road gradually thinned out and the greenery began to flourish, and the air became fresher.
After walking for about half an hour, they reached the top of the hill.
Here, the view opens up dramatically, offering a panoramic view of most of the small town.
The rows of houses, the ships moored in the distant harbor, and the distant, continuous mountain ranges all appear tranquil and full of life under the morning light.
A gentle breeze carries the faint scent of grass and wildflowers, dispelling the hustle and bustle of the city.
"It's very quiet here."
Kuroro stopped under a large, leafy tree and gazed into the distance.
Ayana stood beside him, looking at the scenery before her, her tense nerves unconsciously relaxing a little.
As he said, the scenery here is indeed beautiful and quiet enough, with only the sound of the wind and the occasional birdsong.
She secretly glanced at Kuroro; his quiet profile was exceptionally clear in the light, his long eyelashes slightly lowered, as if he were admiring the scenery or perhaps deep in thought.
“You couldn’t see a view like this in Meteor City before,” Kuroro suddenly said.
Ayana responded softly, the image of that gloomy sky and the lingering stench of decay in the air resurfacing in her mind.
Compared to the vastness and vitality before my eyes, it feels like a different world.
Silence fell between them again, but this time it was not so suffocating; instead, it was filled with a subtle atmosphere.
They stood side by side on the hilltop, watching the city below slowly awaken in the sunlight, as if time had truly stood still for them at that moment.
After a while, Kuroro spoke again: "Let's go, there's a shop downstairs with good tea and snacks."
He led Ayana down the hill and found a rather stylish little teahouse in a quiet alley at the foot of the mountain.
The teahouse was elegantly decorated and played soothing music; there weren't many customers.
Kuroro chose a seat by the window and skillfully ordered a pot of black tea and several delicate pastries.
The pastries were shaped like flowers and small animals, small and cute, a far cry from the rye bread Ayana had eaten before.
She took small sips, the sweet flavor melting on her tongue, bringing a long-lost sense of comfort.
Kuroro didn't ask her about her past anymore, but occasionally he would talk about things in this small town, or some seemingly insignificant things he had seen or heard.
He is knowledgeable, speaks clearly, and can always find appropriate topics to keep the atmosphere from becoming awkward.
Ayana gradually relaxed and even occasionally took the initiative to ask a question or two.
Looking at Kuroro's calm profile as he spoke, and listening to his deep, steady voice, she felt for a moment that this could almost be considered a truly pleasant date.
However, this brief period of calm did not last long.
Ayana's simple communicator, which she had placed in her pocket, suddenly vibrated.
She froze, a sense of foreboding rising in her heart.
She took the pager-like device out of her pocket, and a short message appeared on the screen.
[Urgent Notice: All security personnel are requested to immediately assemble at the auction house's underground warehouse.]
The specific area and time limit of the collection are also marked below.
You need to get to the mission site within 30 minutes.
Ayana's face turned pale instantly.
She looked up and met Kuroro's probing gaze.
He clearly noticed Ayana's unusual behavior and the faint light emanating from the communicator.
"Is something the matter?" he asked, putting down his teacup.
Ayana gripped the communicator tightly and nodded: "Yes, something urgent has suddenly come up, and I need to go over there."
Kuroro's gaze lingered on her face for two seconds before he politely asked, "Do you need me to take you home?"
“No need!” Ayana quickly refused, almost blurting it out, “The place isn’t far, I can go there myself.”
She stood up and said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Kuroro, the tea and snacks today were delicious, thank you; but I have to go."
Kuroro remained seated, not getting up, but simply looking up at her. His dark eyes remained deep and unreadable.
“Go,” he said calmly, his tone devoid of any emotion. “We will meet again.”
Ayana dared not linger any longer. She nodded hastily to him, picked up her things, and quickly left the teahouse.
Ayana ran back to the hotel and quickly changed into the somewhat rough security uniform.
The dark fabric didn't fit well, yet it strangely provided a sense of concealment regarding one's identity.
She clutched the communicator tightly in her hand and, following instructions, avoided the crowds and entered through an inconspicuous employee passageway at the side and rear of the auction house.
The passageway was dimly lit, and the air was filled with dust and the smell of old things.
Ayana descended two flights of stairs, and a heavy metal door appeared before her. Two solemn-looking guards stood at the door, clearly also Nen users.
After verifying the communicator information and temporary identity card, the guard waved for them to pass.
Behind the door lies an underground space that is wider than anyone could imagine.
This place doesn't resemble a warehouse; it's more like a temporary military command post or a high-tech vault.
The cold metal walls reflected the stark white light from the overhead lights, and dozens of security personnel in identical uniforms stood in formation, the atmosphere heavy.
Various detection instruments and monitoring screens that Ayana couldn't name were being tested intensively.
A middle-aged man with a capable demeanor stood on a small platform in front.
He was the manager who had recruited Ayana before, but at this moment his face showed no politeness, only cold seriousness.
"Quiet!" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly throughout the warehouse, carrying an unquestionable authority.
All whispers ceased instantly.
“The situation has changed.” The manager’s sharp eyes swept over everyone present. “We have received reliable intelligence that an extremely dangerous group has its eye on the final item of this auction. To ensure everything goes smoothly, the auction will be held at 8 p.m. tonight.”
A suppressed commotion arose from the audience, but it quickly subsided.
Everyone realized the seriousness of the situation.
"This means our preparation time has been significantly reduced," the manager continued, speaking quickly and clearly. "Most of you were originally assigned to perimeter security and guiding guests, but now your tasks have changed."
He raised his hand and pointed to the deepest part of the warehouse.
Separated by thick bulletproof glass, the interior was softly lit, and an exquisite display stand slowly rose from the ground.
The display stand was covered with a layer of dark velvet.
Two staff members carefully lifted the velvet blanket, revealing a set of gemstone jewelry on the display stand.
The main stone is a teardrop-shaped, deep blue gemstone, with what appears to be a nebula slowly rotating inside, shimmering with a deep blue halo.
The smaller, equally deep stones surrounding it resemble stars around the moon.
They are set in an exceptionally simple yet antique-looking silver-white metal setting, which further accentuates the breathtaking beauty of the gemstones themselves.
Even Ayana, who knew nothing about jewelry, felt a soul-stirring shock at that moment.
It's so beautiful, unrealistically beautiful, as if it possesses some kind of powerful force, drawing people in irresistibly and even creating a desire to get closer and possess it.
"This is the Starry Night Tear, the target you must protect with your lives." The steward's voice pulled everyone back to reality from their brief daze, his tone even more somber. "Intelligence indicates that the Phantom Troupe is likely the one coveting it."
A commotion broke out in the crowd.
“Fear is normal,” the manager said without hiding it. “But remember, you are hunters. The auction house paid a huge price to hire you!”
"Your mission is no longer simply patrolling!"
"Everyone, in your groups, immediately familiarize yourselves with your assigned defense zones and emergency plans. Your weapons are all ready!"
"The core display case is personally guarded by our top Nen users. Your job is to intercept and delay any intruders who try to get close on the outer perimeter and issue an alarm in time!"
"If the core area is attacked, your mission is to defend the passage at all costs and buy time to move the treasure! Understand?"
"Understood!" came the mixed but resolute responses from the audience.
A hefty reward will surely attract brave men; the auction house's offer was enough to tempt many to take the risk.
Ayana followed the crowd to collect her equipment.
She chose a small handgun and was assigned to a four-person team to guard the entrance to the third passage leading to the core area of the underground warehouse.
This location is relatively inward, but it is still one of the possible directions for a breakthrough.
The other three members of the group were all men. They appeared to be experienced, but their expressions were tense. They simply nodded to each other without any further communication.
Time passed second by second, and the entire underground space was like a tightly wound machine, operating efficiently in the oppressive silence.
Ayana stood against the cold wall, able to clearly hear her own rapid heartbeat. She gazed at the Tears of the Stars, silently shimmering behind the bulletproof glass in the distance.
The eerie blue light, however, seemed to her to foreshadow an impending bloodbath.
Tonight is destined to be a sleepless night.
*
Time passed slowly in the oppressive wait.
In the underground warehouse, only the hum of the instruments and the suppressed breathing of the people could be heard.
Ayana gripped her issued pistol tightly, her gaze occasionally sweeping over the distant Star Tear, which emitted a ghostly blue halo, as she mentally rehearsed the bloody battle that was about to begin.
She didn't know the Phantom Troupe, but judging from the appearance of everyone here, the Phantom Troupe was a terrifying organization.
The piercing alarm blared without warning, and the red warning lights flashed wildly, instantly shattering the silence of the warehouse.
"Enemy attack!"
"They're coming in!"
"The intruders have been identified; it's the Phantom Troupe!"
Screams, filled with undisguised fear, came from the monitoring station.
The entire underground space was like a lake surface tossed with a giant rock, instantly engulfed in panic.
Ayana's heart clenched, she gripped her gun tightly, but her expression remained unchanged.
Several figures quickly appeared in various parts of the warehouse, dressed in different styles and with relaxed demeanors.
The powerful Nen pressure pressed down layer upon layer, turning many security personnel pale and making it difficult for them to breathe.
Battle is imminent.
However, the next second, something astonishing happened.
The members of the troupe, those legendary scourges, did not carry out the bloody massacre as expected.
They easily subdued the guards who were trying to attack them.
They might disarm someone by precisely striking their joints, use their mind to restrain their movements, or simply knock them unconscious. Their movements are clean and efficient, yet they deliberately avoid fatal wounds.
The screams and the sound of bones breaking were still there, but the expected scene of flesh and blood flying everywhere did not appear.
Feitan moved with lightning speed, and the guards in his path fell one after another, but they all only lost consciousness.
Finks twisted his neck and punched the thick bulletproof glass.
The glass, strong enough to withstand the impact, shattered instantly, spiderweb-like cracks spreading out, before collapsing completely with a crash.
But he didn't harm the guards who were standing guard behind the glass; he just gestured to them to shut up.
The knight-errant was chuckling as he fiddled with his phone, seemingly interfering with the remaining monitoring and communication systems.
Xiao Di pushed up her glasses, manifesting her bulging-eyed fish form, and began to suck up the scattered glass shards and some damaged instrument parts on the ground, ignoring the fallen person.
Their goal is clear and singular.
Uvogin strode to the front of the booth and grabbed the dazzling gemstone necklace with his huge hand.
The gemstone, imbued with the glow of a nebula, appeared even more mysterious and unpredictable in his bronze palm.
"This is the Tears of the Stars? It doesn't look like much."
He commented gruffly, tossing the item casually. His nonchalant attitude nearly made the auction house manager, who was watching nervously from a distance, stop in his tracks.
Meanwhile, Kuroro had somehow bypassed all the chaos and walked straight to the exhibition area.
He took the necklace from Uvogin, held it up to his eyes, and examined it carefully in the pale light of the warehouse.
The man's expression was focused, his dark eyes reflecting a deep, unfathomable sapphire blue light.
An eerie silence fell over the entire warehouse.
The guards who were still standing were dumbfounded, completely unable to comprehend what was happening before their eyes.
These notorious bandits broke in, subdued everyone, and took the treasure, but they didn't kill anyone.
This was more terrifying to them than a bloody massacre, because it was completely beyond their comprehension.
Just then, Kuroro lowered his hand holding the gem, shifting his gaze away from it as if he had lost interest in it.
His gaze bypassed all obstacles and landed precisely on Ayana, whose face was filled with shock and confusion, at the entrance of the passage.
He walked slowly toward Ayana.
Ayana watched Kuroro walk towards her, her heart pounding, almost unable to think.
Kuroro stopped in front of her, so close that she could clearly smell his faint scent.
He looked at Ayana's pale face, which was pale with tension, and spoke in a calm, unwavering voice that carried clearly throughout the silent warehouse.
These words struck like a thunderclap in the minds of everyone who could still think.
If it's not for the Tears of the Stars, then what are they making such a big fuss about?
Kuroro's gaze remained fixed on Ayana's face. He turned his head slightly and said to the members behind him, "Look, I found something."
In an instant, several pairs of eyes focused on Ayana.
Nobunaga, holding his sword, raised an eyebrow: "Hmm? This woman looks familiar."
Machi's cool eyes flickered for a moment, and she said calmly, "It's her, the one from many years ago."
Finks scratched his head: "Ah! I remember now!!"
A complex emotion flashed in Feitan's eyes; she seemed to remember more.
"It seems everyone still remembers." Kuroro's lips curled into a very slight smile, seemingly satisfied with the members' reaction.
He looked at Ayana again and extended his hand to her, not in a gesture of aggression, but in an invitation that could not be refused.
“Ayana,” he called her name, his voice deep and clear, “come with us.”
"Why?" Ayana's voice was dry and hoarse; she couldn't understand any of this.
You don't want the jewels anymore? You're not going to kill the person?
Was all this fuss just to take her away?
“I said we would meet again.” Kuroro’s eyes were deep as he pried open Ayana’s hand, which was gripping the gun, one by one, and said softly, “We all miss you.”
"Clang."
The pistol fell to the cold ground with a crisp sound.
Kuroro naturally took Ayana's hand and turned to walk outside.
Uvogin casually tossed the priceless Starry Night Tears set back onto the display stand littered with broken glass, like throwing away trash, with a soft "thud".
The other members of the Phantom Troupe followed Kuroro without a care, as if the treasure that had caused countless bloodshed was really just an insignificant decoration.
The Phantom Troupe came quickly and left quickly.
They swept through like a devastating hurricane, yet strangely, they left most of the people alive, along with the intact, carelessly discarded Tear of the Stars.
Inside the warehouse, the survivors collapsed to the ground, looking at each other in disbelief and a sense of absurdity at being fooled.
Ayana, like a rare prey captured by a hunter, was led by Kuroro and staggered into the shadows of the passage, disappearing from everyone's sight.
Ayana's mind went blank; she couldn't process the absurd turn of events that had just occurred.
Kuroro's hand was cold and steady, its strength undeniable, yet strangely, it didn't hurt her.
He walked half a step ahead of her, his back straight and composed.
At the end of the passage was a metal door that had been violently damaged, outside of which lay the chilly air of the small town late at night and a secluded back alley.
Several unremarkable black cars were parked there quietly.
The members of the brigade gradually gathered from other exits, their movements swift and silent.
"Captain, all done." The knight waved his phone, his face still bearing that harmless smile.
Uvogin yawned, looking somewhat listless: "This is so boring. I thought I could stretch my muscles a bit."
Nobunaga sheathed his sword, his gaze lingering briefly on Ayana.
Little Drop's bulging-eyed fish had disappeared. She pushed up her glasses and stood quietly to the side.
Machi, meanwhile, had already begun quickly stitching up a minor scratch on Phinks' arm with her mind threads.
It appears that he was hit by shards of glass when the bulletproof glass was broken.
They completed it like a routine task, easily, even a little boring.
There was no bloodlust, no thrill of plunder, and no lingering attachment to the battlefield behind him.
Kuroro opened the door of one of the cars and gestured for Ayana to get in.
Ayana stood hesitantly outside the car door, the night wind blowing against her thin security uniform, bringing a chill.
She looked at the dim light inside the car, then glanced back at the auction house building behind her, and a strong sense of unreality gripped her.
"I..." She opened her mouth, but didn't know what to say.
Questioning? Protesting?
Or should I be grateful for not being killed?
"Get in the car, Ayana." Kuroro's voice came from behind, calm as ever, but carrying a sense of ending the discussion. "It's windy here."
His tone contained no threat, yet it was more effective than any threat.
Ayana bit her lower lip, but eventually bent down and got into the car.
Kuroro then got in and closed the car door.
The vehicle started smoothly and drove into the city streets in the night.
The car was quiet, with only the low rumble of the engine.
Ayana huddled in the corner of the chair, her gaze fixed on the rapidly receding lights outside the window, her heart filled with confusion.
Having not seen them for so long, she felt like she no longer recognized these kids from Meteor City.
"Are you scared?" Kuroro's voice broke the silence.
Ayana shook her head, still looking out the window, her voice somewhat stiff: "What do you want to do?"
“I’ve already said it,” Kuroro’s gaze seemed to fall on the window, or perhaps through the glass, to a place even more distant, “Everyone misses you.”
"None of us want to lose you again. We formed the Phantom Troupe so that we could find you."
Kuroro said calmly, "After you left, we all searched for you desperately, but we couldn't find you anywhere. Your sudden disappearance almost drove us all crazy."
The vehicle stopped in front of what appeared to be a long-abandoned factory warehouse.
The members of the group got off the bus one after another and walked in as if they knew the way well; this seemed to be their temporary base.
Kuroro also got out of the car and extended his hand to Ayana again: "The Phantom Troupe won't let go of what belongs to them, Ayana, come with us."
He chuckled softly, the meaning of his laughter ambiguous, and then said in a low voice, "But even if you refuse, I might still forcibly take you away."
But this time, Ayana did not respond immediately.
She stood by the car, the night wind blowing the stray hairs across her forehead.
Ayana looked at the man before her, who was both familiar and unfamiliar, took a deep breath, and said, "Kuroro, I will not join the Phantom Troupe."
She had finally gained her freedom and didn't want to be bound by anything anymore.
Even the children of Meteor City cannot bind her freedom.
Kuroro didn't retract his outstretched hand. He looked at Ayana, and the corners of his mouth seemed to twitch almost imperceptibly upwards.
“I know,” he said calmly. “I didn’t invite you to join.”
He took a step forward, closing the distance, his voice deep and strangely magnetic: "I just want to keep you where I can see you."
These words made Ayana's heart pound more than any forceful command.
It proclaimed a silent yet absolute possession and control.
Seeing the complex emotions surging in her eyes, Kuroro finally spoke, his tone almost gentle, yet carrying an undeniable certainty.
"Ayana, I will protect you from now on and I will never let you die again."
"So please don't leave me again, not even for a moment, okay?"
He no longer waited for Ayana's response, took her hand again, and with an imperceptible increase in strength, led her into the warehouse.
The warehouse was much more spacious inside than it appeared from the outside. Abandoned machines were pushed to a corner, and an open space was cleared in the middle, covered with several relatively clean-looking carpets and casually placed cushions.
A few camping lights provided dim light, casting flickering shadows on the rusty and dusty walls.
The air was filled with the smell of dust and engine oil.
Ayana was led into this space by Kuroro's wrist, like a lamb that had strayed into a pack of wolves.
All the members of the troupe focused their attention on her again, but their gazes were no longer scrutinizing or curious as before; instead, they became more complex, carrying an almost tangible, suffocating focus.
Kuroro loosened his grip, but Ayana felt the invisible restraint tighten even more.
She stood there, somewhat lost and bewildered.
"Sit down." Kuroro pointed to the thickest-looking cushion and said.
Ayana hesitated for a moment, but eventually sat down as instructed, clasping her hands tightly on her knees.
Uvogin was the first to approach. He had grown much larger, his massive body resembling a small mountain, casting a shadow that almost completely enveloped Ayana.
He didn't sit down, but squatted in front of her, his bronze face showing an almost childlike confusion and straightforward unease.
“Why did you disappear before,” he said gruffly, his voice echoing in the empty warehouse. “We’ve searched for ages, turned Meteor City upside down, but we still can’t find you.”
At this moment, there was no violence in his beast-like eyes, only pure restlessness and incomprehension.
"Back then, the commander's eyes were so terrifying, it looked like he wanted to tear the whole world apart."
Ayana's heart skipped a beat.
She looked at Uvogin, trying to find the shadow of the boy who used to express his emotions only with his fists in that rugged face.
"I... had an accident." That was all she could repeat.
"An accident?" Feitan's cold voice came from the side.
He had silently approached without anyone noticing, standing at the boundary between shadows.
"What kind of accident could make someone disappear without a trace, leaving not even a trace?" His voice was low, tinged with barely concealed annoyance.
“We thought you were dead,” Machi’s cold voice rang out.
She sat on an upside-down oil drum, toying with a spirit thread in her hand, her tone calm, but her blue eyes were sharply fixed on Ayana.
“If he wasn’t dead, how could we not find him? We even dug up every possible burial site in Meteor City.”
She uttered the most chilling words in the most nonchalant tone.
Ayana suddenly felt a strange, indescribable feeling.
I felt both heartbroken and a little chilly.
The thought of how these children had almost obsessively searched every corner of Meteor City, even digging up graves, in their search for her filled her with complex emotions.
“Hey, woman,” Finks walked over, hands in his pockets, looking somewhat impatient, but with a barely perceptible tension hidden deep in his eyes.
"Stop playing the disappearing act, it's a hassle."
He described those frantic years of searching as troublesome, but Ayana could sense that it was more than just troublesome.
Nobunaga, clutching his sword, leaned against a pillar in the distance and muttered something under his breath.
"It's good that you're back."
Ayana looked at the monsters surrounding her.
They expressed the same emotion in their own ways.
They seemed indifferent to worldly morality and the lives of others, yet they felt an unprecedented sense of loss because of her disappearance.
To them, she was like a ray of light shining into the darkness.
They had lost this light before, and now they have finally found it again.
Kuroro remained quietly at a distance, his back to them, looking at the mottled rust on the wall.
“I…I didn’t mean to.” Ayana’s voice was dry and weak, her explanation feeble and unconvincing. “I didn’t know that would happen.”
"It's alright." Kuroro finally turned around, his face half-lit and half-shadowed in the dim light, only his eyes shining brightly.
He walked slowly over, and the members of the troupe instinctively made way for him.
Kuroro stopped in front of Ayana, looking down at her.
“What happened in the past is not important,” he stated calmly. “What matters is the present and the future.”
He bent down, looking directly into Ayana's eyes, his voice low and deep: "For us, what we like, we hold onto tightly. What we don't like, we destroy completely."
"These are the rules for us robbers."
His fingers gently brushed across her cheek, the cool touch sending a shiver through Ayana.
Uvogin gave a heavy snort in agreement.
Feitan's lips curled into a cold smile.
Machi's Nen threads tightened silently.
Finks twisted his neck.
Paknoda's gaze remained calm, yet carried a resolute quality.
They expressed their shared will through silence and gestures.
Ayana looked at these familiar yet unfamiliar faces, and at the intense concern in their eyes that seemed to devour her.
She understood that what Kuroro said was not untrue.
From the moment she was brought into that warehouse, she no longer belonged to herself.
Her life, her existence, has been marked with the Phantom Troupe's mark.
A deep sense of powerlessness and a strange feeling of being needed intertwined, making Ayana feel suffocated.
She tried to find a way to resist, but under the gaze of those eyes filled with prejudice and immense power, any thought of escape seemed so ridiculous and hopeless.
Kuroro seemed to see through her last struggle. He straightened up and resumed his calm demeanor, as if he were in complete control.
"Rest now, Ayana," he said calmly. "It's safe here."
He paused, then added, his tone chillingly gentle.
"After all, from now on, we'll all be keeping a close eye on you."
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