"Is this guy an idiot? Does he really think this bunch can stop us?"
Bonolenov stretched out a gloved hand, pointing dismissively at Leiert and the group in front of him.
The vicious-looking bodyguards didn't appear threatening at all to them—more like a farce.
"Who knows. It's not like we haven't dealt with self-righteous fools like this before," Feitan replied, his tone laced with disdain. Leiert's confident smirk and the way he acted as if everything was under his control only made him seem like a clown in their eyes.
"Enough wasting time," Franklin interjected. "We're here on business. These people don't seem like they have anything to do with the mysterious Paikaci we're tracking. They're too weak. Either he's hiding, or he's not here at all."
"Not strong enough, huh?" Phinks chimed in, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward. "Hey! Is there a guy named Paikaci here? Speak up!"
His voice boomed, echoing through the arena.
The black-clad bodyguards stood still, but Leiert and the martial artist standing beside him—Paikaci—frowned. Their displeasure was evident. To them, the troupe's brash and unrefined demeanor was beneath contempt.
So, these are the infamous thieves and criminals? Just uncivilized brutes.
Leiert's eyes gleamed with confidence as he sized them up.
"What do you want?" Paikaci spoke at last, his deep voice calm but authoritative. He took a step forward, adopting the poised stance of a martial artist. His movements were deliberate, almost theatrical.
"Are you Paikaci?" Phinks asked, raising an eyebrow. He sized up the middle-aged man with visible disappointment.
This guy's way too weak.
"You're joking, right?" Phinks barked, his voice dripping with derision. "We're looking for the real Paikaci, not some impostor."
Paikaci's brow furrowed, his composure slipping. "My name is Paikaci," he said firmly. "And I don't need substitutes. What are you trying to say?"
"Phinks," Franklin interrupted, his voice steady. "The file has a picture of him. That's the guy."
"Or someone using Nen to alter their appearance," Feitan countered, his sharp gaze narrowing. "Remember, the boss has someone who can disguise themselves. It's not a stretch to think this guy could do the same."
Feitan casually slid a hand into his pocket. "I'll find out soon enough." His fingers flexed, and his aura surged, crackling with menace.
Before anyone could react, Feitan vanished.
A faint sound of tearing followed, and the air filled with the metallic tang of blood.
In the next room, Kay Taylor noticed the disturbance. He raised his head briefly before going back to his phone, completely unfazed. The two bodyguards near him were trembling, but Kay sat calmly, engrossed in his text messages.
He fired off a quick update to Lisa and Ross, his demeanor steady as ever.
The recipient of the text was Ronnel.
Back in the arena, the fight was over almost as soon as it started. The supposed elite bodyguards of the billionaire Battera were no match for the Phantom Troupe. Feitan and Phinks dispatched them effortlessly.
Leiert froze, his wine glass trembling in his hand. When Phinks tossed a battered but still-breathing Paikaci at his feet, Leiert's composure shattered entirely.
The glass tilted, spilling red wine down the front of his expensive suit. He stammered, visibly shaken, all pretense of control gone.
"This guy's pathetic," Phinks sneered, kicking Paikaci's limp form. "No way someone like him could take on the boss."
Feitan crouched beside the trembling Paikaci.
"Time for some answers," he said, a sinister grin spreading across his face.
"Wait, no! Please! If you want to know something, just ask!" Leiert's panicked pleas were met with silence as Feitan's interrogation began.
Ronnel stood back, leaning against the wall. He had no interest in the grisly scene unfolding before him. There was no sympathy in his heart for Leiert or Paikaci. They were just criminals who had made poor choices, and now they were paying for it.
Pulling out his phone, Ronnel glanced at a new message. After replying with a simple Yes, he turned his gaze to the skyline beyond the viewing platform, ignoring the screams echoing in the background.
Leiert and Paikaci broke quickly, spilling every detail. They confessed to orchestrating attacks on the Phantom Troupe and admitted their role in the Salvatore brothers' failed ambush on Uvogin. The information came out in a desperate torrent, accompanied by tears and snot.
Even so, their surrender wasn't enough to satisfy Feitan. Their early confession robbed him of the thrill, leaving him visibly annoyed. He continued his "interrogation" for a while longer, purely out of spite.
By the end of it, both men were broken shadows of their former selves.
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