A figure appeared beside the elderly man nursing his broken arm.
"Old K, you took your time."
Old O's voice carried a hint of irritation.
But Old K shrugged it off. "I came as soon as I cleaned up the mess on my end. Instead of complaining that I was slow, you should reflect on your weakness. Not only did you fail to stop the disaster, but you also lost an arm."
Old O snorted coldly.
"That was a Zoldyck. If you'd faced him, would you have done any better?"
"Obviously." Old K's grin was smug. "I'm stronger than you."
Old O glared at him but chose not to argue.
"Enough. Now that the situation's exposed, both the elders of Meteor City and the Hunter Association will catch wind of it. How much longer until the other two disasters emerge?"
"Three days."
"Three days, huh? Damn, it would've been nice if we had more time. Once the elders react, and the Hunter Association sends people, things will get complicated."
Old O gazed into the distance, lost in thought.
Old K replied calmly, "The elders aren't much to worry about. And the Hunter Association? Apart from a handful of people, no one there poses a real threat."
"The Hunter Association won't respond that fast."
"As for the Zoldycks—once they've left, unless someone hires them, they won't bother coming after us again."
Old O's expression darkened. "Don't underestimate the elders of Meteor City. They've cultivated some serious talent over the years."
"In particular, that group they call Wild Beast."
Meteor City has long been a cradle of talent. From assassins to criminals, the city's harsh conditions forge people capable of thriving in any environment. The Zoldyck family, underground syndicates, and even small governments rely on Meteor City's exports.
But before selling their best talents to the outside world, the elders ensure they protect their own interests.
To safeguard their power, they keep some of the most promising Nen users to themselves, nurturing them with resources to unlock their potential. The twelve elders each cultivate their own elite forces, but they also collaborate, combining their best fighters into a group known as Wild Beast.
There are twelve Wild Beasts, one for each elder.
Their structure is somewhat reminiscent of the Mafia's Shadow Beasts, but the Wild Beasts are far stronger. This is how the elders maintain control over Meteor City, ensuring no outside force—no matter how powerful—can infiltrate their domain.
If not for the city's iron grip, the world's criminal networks would have seized control of Meteor City long ago. The opportunity to monopolize such a talent factory would have been too tempting. But the city's strength keeps even the boldest syndicates at bay.
Meteor City isn't just a slum, it's practically a sovereign nation, with the strength to rival small countries. And unlike the world's underground organizations, which operate in the shadows, Meteor City's influence is tangible, undeniable.
Even the mighty Kakin Empire's gangs—deeply entwined with their royal family—have no interest in challenging Meteor City.
V5, the world's five ruling nations, similarly recognize the city's independence. Despite its chaotic reputation, Meteor City is too strong to fall under anyone's control.
Meanwhile, Kaizen stared into the crystal ball on the table.
The aura inside had stopped swirling—it had stalled.
It was expected. After all, Kaizen had left Meteor City behind.
The sudden appearance of the Kute Gang of Thieves meant that returning to the city would be dangerous, at least for now.
Kaizen shifted his focus and pulled out a peculiar object: a bone from a giant cockroach.
The upper part of the bone resembled a blade, while the lower section was smooth and cylindrical. With a bit of refinement, it could serve as a proper weapon—but the bone was still coated with slimy, egg-like sacs.
Kaizen didn't touch it directly. Instead, he used his aura to levitate the bone, avoiding physical contact. Then, he began the slow process of cleansing it, using aura to rinse it over and over again.
Once.
Twice.
Three times...
In another room, Zeno Zoldyck flipped open his phone and dialed a number.
The Zoldyck family maintained a business-like relationship with the Hunter Association. It wasn't uncommon for them to collaborate on dangerous missions. Zeno himself had crossed paths with Isaac Netero more than once.
The old man on the other end of the line responded calmly, "I understand."
Zeno hung up without another word, his expression neutral.
"The butler assigned to Milluki will have to wait," Zeno muttered under his breath.
Even for someone of Zeno's stature, Meteor City was not a place to tread lightly. The Kute Gang of Thieves were a formidable force on their own. If they had allied with the elders, the situation would become nearly impossible to handle.
Though Zeno doubted such a partnership existed, the mere possibility was enough to warrant caution. A Zoldyck never gambles unless the odds are in their favor.
For an assassin, staying alive is the highest priority. Curiosity, fun, or even money—none of it matters if it puts you at unnecessary risk. That's the Zoldyck way.
Back in Meteor City, a man sprinted toward the Elders' Manor, gasping for breath.
It was Peter, clutching a token in his trembling hands—the one Parker had entrusted to him.
The guards intercepted him at the gates, but when they saw the token, they escorted him inside without hesitation.
Soon, a crowd gathered around Peter, watching as the guards dragged him into the manor.
An elder stepped forward, his wrinkled face betraying concern. "Wake him up."
A Nen healer approached and channeled his aura into Peter's unconscious body. Moments later, Peter stirred, blinking rapidly as he regained consciousness.
"Elder..." Peter's voice cracked with urgency. "Please... save Parker."
The elder's expression tightened. "What happened to Parker?"
Peter's desperate plea hung in the air as the elder's frown deepened, sensing that something terrible was unfolding.
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