A wave of nausea rolled over him. His breath hitched in his throat. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to get away, to do anything but stay frozen in place. He wanted to scream, to call for help, but his voice had abandoned him. Just as terror overtook his senses, the world blurred. Dizziness struck like a hammer, disorienting him completely. His vision wavered, and then— He saw something that shouldn't be possible. It was a body. A headless one. The familiar sight of his own stained clothes stared back at him, a wine bottle still clutched tightly in a trembling grip. 'Ah… that's strange. That looks like me.' The thought barely had time to settle before darkness consumed him. His lifeless head tumbled to the ground with a dull, sickening thud, rolling slightly before coming to rest near the twitching fingers of his former body. Blood pooled beneath it, seeping into the cracks of the stone alleyway like a slow-moving river.
The black-robed figure flicked his fingers, shaking off the thin smear of blood that clung to his clawed hand. After weaving through several dimly lit corridors, the man in the black robe finally reached his destination. Without hesitation, he gripped the handle and twisted it forcefully, pushing open the heavy door. Inside, a long etiquette table stretched before him. On either side, three chairs lined the table, with a single seat positioned at the head. Seven chairs in total—yet only four were occupied. "Gluttony, you're late again." A man seated on the right side of the table spoke lazily, his tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction. His words accused, but his posture told a different story—legs casually propped up on the table, exuding an air of carelessness.
The black-robed man, Gluttony, remained silent as he moved to take his seat beside the speaker. A faint but distinct scent of blood clung to him. The man next to him sniffed the air slightly, as if about to say something, but a voice cut him off. "Enough, Greed. There's no need to keep harping on it. Gluttony is always like this. Today, we have more important matters to discuss." The one who spoke sat at the head of the table—the leader of the group. His tone carried the weight of authority, commanding and absolute. Pride, as he was known, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his refined appearance in stark contrast to the arrogance laced in his voice.
Greed clicked his tongue but relented, throwing his hands up in defeat before reclining further into his seat. Across the table, Lust let out a soft chuckle, covering her mouth with delicate fingers. Her laughter caused her ample chest to tremble slightly, drawing attention without effort. Beside her sat Sloth. Rather than sitting properly, he slumped forward, arms sprawled across the table as if he were a student dozing off in class. Though his body was still, his half-lidded eyes remained open, a quiet acknowledgment that he was listening. Two chairs remained empty. One on each side. They belonged to Wrath and Envy—both of whom were dead.
In this hidden room, the notorious S-class criminal group known as the Seven Deadly Sins had gathered. Their purpose was clear. Wrath and Envy's deaths were not just a loss of manpower but a blow to their reputation. And for Pride, the latter was far more unacceptable. Pride valued power, but his strength came from something unique—his status. His Nen ability, Supreme Self, was a rare Trait-type ability. The stronger his reputation and the higher his status, the more his power grew. Conversely, if his reputation declined, so did his strength. This ability made him a terrifying force, capable of exuding a domineering aura that crushed the weak-willed into submission.
It was because of this power that he led the Seven Deadly Sins. Just like Chrollo Lucilfer, the leader of the Phantom Troupe, Pride was an individualist with natural leadership qualities. But his ambition was greater than simply leading a criminal group. He wanted to reach the pinnacle, to stand among the strongest in the world. For that, reputation was everything.
The deaths of Wrath and Envy created a crack in that reputation. If word spread that they were taken down by mere nobodies, it would undermine his standing. Revenge wasn't just about avenging their fallen—it was about restoring fear and respect. "We can't afford to go after Netero, so our target this time is that so-called hero—the kid named Larry." Pride's voice carried disdain as he leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping the table. His expression darkened. "Is the Hunter Association truly this shameless? They expect us to believe that an unknown rookie took down Wrath and Envy alone?" His laughter was filled with scorn, but his annoyance was real.
To him, the official report was nonsense. The real culprits had to be the veteran Hunter, Satotz, and Pyorn, one of the Twelve Zodiacs. Even then, Wrath and Envy shouldn't have gone down easily. The fact that they did meant their enemies had struggled—only managing to turn the tables with reinforcement from Botobai, another Zodiac. Pride had heard enough about Botobai to know that even he would hesitate in a direct confrontation. If Wrath and Envy had died at his hands, it was unfortunate, but understandable.
Still, he wasn't underestimating Larry. He had already looked into the boy's rare ability—one that allowed him to erase Nen itself. That alone made him dangerous. But public perception was a powerful thing, and in the eyes of most, someone who specialized in removing Nen wasn't a combatant. "Boss, let me handle this one." A smooth voice spoke up from the side, breaking the tension. Lust smiled as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I've been looking for someone with a skill like his. I could use a rare talent like that among my… collection." His grin was both charming and sinister.
Pride didn't respond immediately. His fingers tapped against the table rhythmically as he considered the request. Pride cast a fleeting smile at Lust before turning his gaze to Gluttony, who remained silent on the other side of the table. After a brief pause, he spoke again. "No, you and Sloth have other things to handle. This time, I'll let Gluttony take care of it."
Lust's expression shifted slightly. She was about to protest, but Pride cut her off before she could get a word in. "Relax. Gluttony will bring the kid back alive. Someone with the power to erase Nen shouldn't just be eliminated. He needs to be controlled." He turned to Sloth, his tone firm. "You two are going to meet The Ten Dons. We've secured a partnership with them, and now's the time for your abilities to come into play." His sharp eyes gleamed with resolve. The Ten Dons—the rulers of the world's underground. Each of them controlled one of ten regions spanning six continents. Though the title remained fixed, the people holding it did not. Each of them belonged to massive crime syndicates, and when one fell, another would take their place from within their respective organizations.