While Gon and Kurapika finalized their plans, time crept forward. Evening arrived in the blink of an eye.
"Let's go."
Chrollo opened his eyes, rising to his feet with calm determination.
"Finally, a face-to-face with Kurapika?" Nobunaga's voice carried a mix of excitement and menace as he followed closely behind.
"This time, will it all be over?"
Ronnel smiled faintly, stepping into the growing downpour with the rest of the Phantom Troupe.
"They're on the move!"
Killua, ever vigilant, noticed the shift immediately.
"One, two, three, four, five, six... Ronnel is there too. And that member who can read memories—so the one leading them must be the boss."
The moment he spotted Chrollo, Killua's instincts confirmed his suspicions: this was the leader of the Phantom Troupe. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and sent a message.
Meanwhile, Melody, stationed in a nearby building, coordinated with Killua. Together, they quietly left their vantage points and began tailing the Troupe.
The rain intensified, masking the sinister underbelly of Yorknew City beneath its relentless drumming.
Walking through the storm, Chrollo's group headed swiftly toward the Sanchita Hotel, guided by Kortopi's directions toward the Red-Eye replica.
"They've planted someone to follow us," Ronnel remarked, glancing at a diminutive figure trailing behind—a person attempting to look inconspicuous while reading a newspaper.
Melody.
Despite noticing her presence, Ronnel made no move to confront her. He preferred to let the scenario play out, hoping Kurapika would succeed in capturing Chrollo. The fallout could yield Pakunoda's abilities for him—a prize without direct involvement.
Still, there was an edge to his thoughts. Could he maneuver things further to his advantage?
Ronnel's gaze lingered briefly on Nobunaga before he turned away, his expression unreadable.
"Have I been spotted?"
Melody felt her pulse quicken as Ronnel's heartbeat betrayed his awareness of her. She looked up, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as the Phantom Troupe moved steadily forward without acknowledgment.
"Why hasn't he acted?"
Her instincts urged caution. She slowed her pace, widening the gap between her and her quarry to maintain a safe distance.
Kortopi suddenly stopped.
"The replica is on the move. It's left its previous location—probably in a car, judging by the speed."
"Let's pick up the pace."
Chrollo's voice remained calm, but the intensity in his eyes said everything.
In a flash, the Troupe sprang into motion. They surged forward with speed that outpaced any vehicle, maintaining a tight formation to guard against ambushes.
Chrollo's orders came as they ran. "Once we catch that man, Pakunoda, extract everything about Uvogin from his memory. Nobunaga, you can handle him afterward."
"Understood!" Nobunaga replied eagerly.
Machi smirked. "Just make sure you don't cause extra trouble."
At the same time, Kurapika, having received word of the Troupe's movements, impulsively dashed from his hiding spot.
"Kurapika!" Gon shouted, leaping from the car to follow. Leorio, left behind to relay updates to Killua, grumbled at his companions' recklessness.
"We're being followed," Chrollo noted mid-stride.
"Who would dare?" Nobunaga growled.
"Perhaps it's the Chain User?" Machi suggested, her voice sharp with anticipation.
Ronnel interjected. "Let's split up. If one group encounters Kurapika, deal with him on the spot. Agreed, boss?"
Chrollo nodded. "Nobunaga, Pakunoda, Kortopi—you're up front. Handle the target."
With a brief exchange of acknowledgments, the trio surged ahead, leaving Chrollo, Machi, and Ronnel to hold position.
The sudden halt sent ripples of unease through Kurapika and Gon. Both instinctively ducked into cover, one behind an alley wall, the other behind a dumpster.
"Did you see them?" Chrollo asked.
"No, just movement," Machi replied, threads of Nen glinting in her hands.
"One in the alley, one behind the dumpster," Ronnel said, amusement flickering in his voice. "Judging by the size of the dumpster, it's probably that spiky-haired kid—Gon Freecss."
"Ging Freecss's son?" Chrollo mused, his expression unreadable as he stepped forward.
Behind the dumpster, Gon's palms were clammy as sweat poured down his face.
"They've spotted me…"
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