For Meteor City, both types of individuals were essential.
At the Elder Council, this need was made abundantly clear.
"Our primary adversary now is the global underworld, led by the Ten Dons," declared one elder. "We need ordinary soldiers to counter their gang members, and, at the same time, powerful Nen users to take on their Shadow Beasts."
Previously, Meteor City's Mad Beasts were stronger than the Shadow Beasts of the underworld. However, now only two of the Mad Beasts were left alive, and their whereabouts were unknown. Under these circumstances, Meteor City's ranks of Nen users desperately required fresh blood.
"Use the arena and a gauntlet-style competition to select individuals suitable for Nen training," one elder instructed, his eyes gleaming with excitement and anticipation for what was to come.
However, for those who entered Elder City, the first sight greeting them wasn't a grand metropolis, but a vast open area dotted with numerous arenas.
"Arena battles!" an announcer proclaimed. "Defend your position in ten consecutive matches, and you'll be classified as an elite, with all the privileges that entails!"
One fight after another ensued.
---
Meanwhile, in the chaotic zone of Meteor City, a ruined area lay in disarray.
Several figures sat scattered across various spots in the rubble. At the centre sat a young man, his gaze fixed on a book he held in his hands, reading its contents intently.
Suddenly, a figure entered from outside.
The young man closed his book.
"Finks, you finally showed up."
Nobunaga grumbled, "Out of all of us, you're the one who stayed in Meteor City, the closest by far, yet you're the last to arrive."
Finks turned to Chrollo, who sat at the center, a smirk forming on his lips.
"Boss, long time no see!"
In the next instant, Finks vanished, his figure blurring before colliding with Nobunaga's in a powerful clash.
Bang!
The two braced themselves, arms locked in a test of strength. Though both were Enhancers, their approaches differed. In terms of raw arm strength, Finks clearly had the upper hand.
"Calm down, both of you. The boss has something to say," Franklin interjected, stepping between them and pulling them apart.
All eyes turned toward Chrollo.
Nobunaga scoffed but stepped back to stand beside Uvogin, who grinned as he watched.
Nearby, Machi sat on a rock, idly twirling her fingers.
Franklin returned to his spot and relaxed, exuding a calm demeanour that seemed out of place among the troupe's notorious reputation. Despite his fearsome abilities, Franklin was often the voice of reason in the Phantom Troupe, embodying a surprisingly gentle nature amidst the chaos.
Pakunoda stood silently beside Chrollo, while Shalnark was busy on his phone, seemingly oblivious to the gathering around him. Kortopi's expression remained unreadable as he scanned the group, and Feitan muttered under his breath, likely cursing in annoyance.
Chrollo glanced at Shalnark. "You take the lead, Shalnark."
"Yes, boss." Shalnark stood up, putting his phone away. "I'm sure most of you already know why we've gathered here. The KUTE group's recent actions against Meteor City have dealt a massive blow to us."
He paused, letting his words sink in.
"The elders? We don't particularly care about those old relics—they're not exactly favoured by us. But this attack on Meteor City? That's a direct attack on us."
He scanned his comrades, eyes serious.
"The Mad Beasts who once served the elders? Almost entirely wiped out by KUTE's assault. Only two remain alive, and they've vanished."
Shalnark's expression darkened. "KUTE's attack has left millions dead in Meteor City. Their goal was simple: to wreak havoc and harvest Nen-infused materials from the destruction."
"Afterward, the elders entrusted the matter to the Hunter Association and the Zoldyck family, who took care of the KUTE group," Chrollo interjected, cutting off Shalnark's briefing.
"The elders' decision came after I issued the call for us to assemble. Originally, I intended for us to handle KUTE ourselves," Chrollo continued. "But with KUTE now wiped out, we still won't just sit back and do nothing."
Hearing this, the members perked up, especially Phinks and Uvogin, who visibly brimmed with excitement. Feitan's muttered curses grew even louder, while Uvogin boomed, "Boss, what's the plan? Let's make it big! Who's the target?"
Chrollo gestured to calm down. "There are three things we need to handle. First, KUTE's attack yielded some Nen-infused materials—two pieces went to the Zoldycks, one to the Hunter Association, and one disappeared somewhere in Meteor City. I want us to recover that missing piece."
He paused before continuing, "Second, Meteor City has been deteriorating for years, moving in a direction we didn't foresee—especially with the actions of the elders. What they once did in secret, they now flaunt openly. Their influence isn't in Meteor City's best interests."
Uvogin leaned forward. "So, are you saying we should take out the elders and take control of Meteor City ourselves?"
Chrollo shook his head. "The purpose of the Phantom Troupe has never been to govern. Our methods, rooted in extremity, can't mix with leadership roles. If we took control, it would weaken us, not strengthen us. Our role should be to limit the elders' influence, not to replace them."
He took a breath before announcing the third objective. "Finally, there are still two empty spots in the Troupe. I want to find the remaining two members of the Mad Beasts and extend an invitation to join us."
Feitan interjected, "And what about the surviving KUTE members? Do we let them go?"
Shalnark replied, "They're locked up in the Hunter Association's maximum-security prison. Breaking in would require careful planning, and it's not worth the effort right now."
Chrollo nodded. "For now, we ignore them. Being imprisoned is as good as being dead. But if they ever get out, we'll make sure they don't breathe free for long. Those who strike against Meteor City will never be forgiven."
"By the way," Phinks chimed in, "Did you hear that the elders are recruiting? They've scattered tokens all over Meteor City, and people are killing each other over them."
Chrollo nodded. "I know. Let them fight it out."
Shortly after, following Shalnark's suggestion, the Phantom Troupe divided into three groups, each tackling one of their assigned tasks.
As Machi stepped out of the ruins, she glanced back with a pensive look.
Noticing this, Nobunaga asked, "What's on your mind, Machi?"
"I was thinking of someone."
"Who?"
"Sarasa," she replied, pausing. "If only Sarasa were still with us..."
Hearing the name, Nobunaga and Uvogin fell silent, momentarily lost in memories.
Back then, there had been no Phantom Troupe—just a group of kids who loved performing skits, acting, and dubbing. In many ways, they weren't so different from kids elsewhere. Meteor City itself was a different place then, a world away from the brutal reality it had become.