Chapter 54: Morrow's Scheme

Setting off from the Heavens Arena, Moro was headed for the great nation of Gorteau.

Under normal circumstances, Moro should have reached his destination a week ago.

However, an unexpected incident aboard the airship had delayed him until now.

Had his level not skyrocketed from Lv7 to Lv22—causing a significant shift in his mindset—coupled with the intelligence provided by Argo that the Phantom Troupe was still operating in dispersed units within Gorteau, Moro might have just turned right back around and headed back to the Heavens Arena.

At this moment, seeing Hisoka inside the café, Moro felt a flash of surprise in his heart, but quickly averted his gaze.

After glancing at Hisoka a few times, the surrounding patrons also withdrew their eyes.

The reactions of the older guests were relatively normal, while some youngsters openly began discussing the tear-drop makeup on Hisoka’s face and those extremely conspicuous pointed red boots.

As they talked, they laughed out loud without any attempt to conceal it.

Hisoka was not far from them and naturally heard the mocking laughter.

Yet he showed no reaction whatsoever, sitting leisurely on a barstool by the floor-to-ceiling window, resting his elbow on the table and supporting his cheek with the back of his hand, his narrow eyes gazing at the bustling crowds on the street outside.

At a table near the glass door.

Moro glanced out of the corner of his eye at the group of youngsters laughing louder and louder.

These kids had no idea that the person they were mocking was a freak who could crush them to death with a flick of his wrist.

Let go of the savior complex, and respect the fate of others.

Listening to remarks coming from that direction, such as "Why didn't he just stick a red nose on?", Moro suppressed the urge to picture that scene and gently stirred his coffee with a spoon.

If he remembered correctly, Hisoka was supposed to join the Phantom Troupe this year...

Normally, there were two ways to join the Phantom Troupe.

One was to kill an existing member of the Troupe and take their place.

However, this rule was not absolute.

The other was when a vacancy opened up in the Troupe, and Chrollo would personally seek out a suitable new member.

Among the pages of Chrollo's Bandit's Secret was stored a Nen ability capable of "finding a desired target."

Using this Nen ability, Chrollo could track down individuals meeting his specific criteria, allowing him to targetedly fill member vacancies.

It was also with this ability that Chrollo, in the original storyline, prepared a strategy composed of multiple Nen abilities specifically tailored for Hisoka, beating Hisoka so thoroughly that he was left completely defenseless.

Similarly, in a fanfiction titled *The Nen Exorcist*, Chrollo had specifically gathered a targeted system of Nen abilities in order to eliminate a powerful Nen user.

Unfortunately, that plan was ultimately dismantled by the powerful Nen user, ending in the total annihilation of the Troupe.

In essence, the overall composition of the Phantom Troupe was far from an amateur operation.

It possessed assault specialists focused on direct combat capabilities, intelligence operatives scouting the path ahead, and functional members capable of supporting diverse plans.

And Chrollo's ability to find people ensured that this division of labor within the team always remained intact.

Hisoka was joining the Phantom Troupe this year, but rather than being actively sought out by Chrollo, he was targeting the Troupe's current fourth member.

However, although Hisoka did indeed replace the fourth member in the original plot, that former fourth member was not actually killed by him.

Thinking about it carefully now, Hisoka's appearance at this precise timing made it virtually certain that he would target the fourth member in the near future and subsequently join the Troupe.

Following that, Moro thought of Silva hunting down the Troupe's eighth member, who by now must have chased them all the way to Yorknew City...

From this perspective, Hisoka, who had a passion for one-on-one combat, might just secure an opportunity to duel the Troupe's fourth member in a single-combat match precisely because of Silva's actions.

Moro lowered his eyelids and stopped stirring his coffee.

Scattered pieces of information were pieced together one by one, leading to a rough conclusion.

Then, he recalled the established plot development where "Hisoka did not actually kill the Troupe's fourth member."

So...

Was there a chance to reap the rewards of someone else's battle once again?

And was this gain—whose value was yet unknown—worth taking the risk?

Moro involuntarily pondered the feasibility of this venture.

Mostly because the leveling-up experience aboard the airship had been far too sweet.

It had allowed him to leap past level 20 in such a short span of time and rewarded him with additional Nen ability slots upon leveling up.

Moro had a premonition that a direct and brutal leveling system like this would likely grant him at least one more reward for enhancing his skills as his level increased.

Even if it didn't, the direct enhancement of his aura output and reservoir would effectively amplify the potency of his Nen abilities in disguise.

Therefore, Moro's desire for level advancement had essentially been completely ignited.

"If you don't enter the tiger's den, how can you catch the tiger's cubs..."

Moro lowered his head to gaze at the coffee in his cup, his spoon brushing lightly against the rim as ripples spread once more across the dark brown liquid.

Rewards and risks coexisted.

This was the very essence of vows and limitations.

Moro made his decision.

Sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight, then wait patiently for the opportunity to arrive.

If an opportunity arose, strike decisively; if not, withdraw far away.

The Phantom Troupe, Silva, Hisoka...

Placing these individuals onto the chessboard was precisely the advantage that the disparity in information brought to Moro.

As evening approached, patrons came and went in the café.

The group of youngsters who had been mocking Hisoka earlier had probably laughed enough and finally stopped focusing their attention on him.

From start to finish, Hisoka paid no mind to their mocking behavior.

He continued to stare intently at the crowd on the street outside, as if trying to find his target for this trip among the passersby.

"It's so hard to choose ♡."

Hisoka's narrow eyes narrowed slightly.

The Phantom Troupe—

This new prey fascinated him beyond measure.

Yet he held zero interest in team battles; what he pursued, always and forever, was one-on-one slaughter.

Therefore, among the spiders wandering separately, he would pick only a target that met his minimum requirements.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and night fell.

The city's lights flickered on one by one.

Suddenly, Hisoka got down from his chair and walked straight toward the exit.

Seeing Hisoka pass by, a few of the youngsters nearby glanced at the two heart patterns on the fabric of Hisoka's chest and burst into laughter once again.

Yet Hisoka remained entirely indifferent to their existence, pushing open the glass door and stepping out of the café.

Not until the sound of the bell ceased did Moro look toward the glass door, feeling a mild sense of surprise.

Although he knew Hisoka had no interest in ordinary people, to be openly mocked to his face like that and still remain entirely unfazed...

This genuinely caught Moro off guard.

Moro glanced at the group of youngsters still chattering away, shook his head slightly, lifted his cup to drain the now-cold coffee, and then stood up to head for the exit.

At that very moment, a massive explosion suddenly rang out from the distance.

The commotion was so loud that the patrons inside the shop instinctively fell silent in a conditioned reflex.

Both Moro inside the coffee shop and Hisoka out on the street turned their gazes toward the source of the sound.

In that instant, the exact same luster flashed through both of their eyes.

Simultaneously.

At a fountain plaza.

Silva slowly rose to his feet. Before him lay a corpse with a severely caved-in back.

Not far in front of Silva stood Chrollo and several other members of the Phantom Troupe.

As they looked at Silva—who had descended like a falling meteor to claim the life of a fellow Troupe member—their gazes turned chillingly cold, radiating an unmasked, bone-chilling killing intent.