The frost projectile landed, freezing part of Oster's body. Even though he shattered the ice easily with a casual motion, the sudden drop in temperature had clearly affected him.
A heavy blow sent Natsu flying backward. But he quickly sprang back into the fray.
Hisoka and Chrollo continued their attacks relentlessly.
Feitan, having recovered some aura, moved toward the building. But as soon as he stepped inside, he was engulfed by thick fog—so dense he couldn't see a thing. Worse, he could sense danger all around him.
There wasn't even a clear opening to attack.
Feitan backed out quickly.
"Feitan, what is it?" someone called.
All eyes turned toward him.
He shook his head slightly and said, "The situation inside is... complicated. In my current state, I wouldn't even know where to strike. If I went in recklessly, I wouldn't be helping—I'd just be in the way."
Pakunoda's pupils contracted.
"Even you, Feitan?" she murmured. "Then just how intense is that fight? How strong are the people inside?"
Suddenly, she looked over at Franklin.
"Franklin, you said it's the boss, Ron, and Hisoka—all three fighting that one person?"
"That's right," Franklin replied.
"We all know the boss is strong, and we've seen what Ron can do. But Hisoka? He never seemed that powerful when dealing with us," Pakunoda said quietly, her gaze flickering with doubt. "He must have been hiding his strength from us. But why? What's his goal?"
Franklin frowned, arms folded.
"Now that you mention it, it really does seem that way. Hisoka never showed overwhelming strength around us. In fact, within the Troupe, he was never ranked that high. Even during the previous ambush, his performance wasn't impressive."
"But now, facing an enemy this strong… and he's still going?"
"Phinks and Nobunaga were both taken down early. I lost the ability to fight after a single blow."
"But Hisoka? He's been there from the start—and he's still standing."
Phinks's expression darkened.
"If Hisoka had gone all out last time, maybe Uvogin and Kortopi wouldn't have died. If they were still alive, Shalnark wouldn't have died this time."
In that moment, resentment toward Hisoka swelled in every heart.
"When this is over, we're getting answers," Phinks said grimly. "We're going to find out why Hisoka held back. And we're going to find out what he's really after."
Oster's patience was wearing thin.
The failure of the experimental squad had surprised him.
To him, the Phantom Troupe were just an A-rank criminal Nen group. How strong could they really be?
A team of only thirteen members, and they were still classified at A-rank—that told him their individual strength couldn't be that high.
If many A-rank Nen users existed, the Troupe would've been upgraded to S-rank long ago.
In Oster's mind, the Phantom Troupe were weaker than even his former subordinates—the Six Herds.
The biological experiment squad had been completely wiped out by them.
He might not have believed it, if not for the fact that the Underworld Mafia had no reason to lie to him. He knew for a fact that within their ranks, there were no stronger assets than that squad.
Still, even with confirmation, Oster didn't think much of the Troupe's strength.
Certainly not compared to his own.
He had brought two experimental subjects with him—one the most successful product of Lab No. 2, the other its biggest failure.
Yet both were strong. Both had unique and dangerous abilities. And Oster himself had joined the field.
He knew exactly how powerful he was.
Years ago, he had reached the peak of A-rank—far ahead of his peers. No one of the same tier could rival him. Only S-rank Nen users posed a real threat.
So how could the Phantom Troupe possibly stand against him?
But the reality unfolding before him didn't match his expectations.
The failed subject had been taken down after merely killing a few civilians. The successful one was also defeated a little while later.
Even Oster himself, though he had the upper hand early on, had never been able to secure a win.
Just an edge—that's all he had.
And now, even that advantage was slipping.
Hisoka, Chrollo, and Ron… all of them were clearly formidable. Oster could see it in their movements, their coordination, their energy.
Hisoka and Chrollo in particular caught his eye—both had raw talent that was unmistakable. Oster couldn't help but feel tempted.
"If I turned those two into experimental subjects," he thought, "they'd surpass both the white-haired and black-haired youths. They'd be unmatched. My greatest creations."
After Nobunaga and Franklin were gravely wounded, Oster had recalibrated, preparing to crush Hisoka and Chrollo quickly.
But then Ron arrived. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novel•fire.net
The lightning projectiles weren't lethal, but they disrupted Oster's rhythm. The interference annoyed him.
He debated, then finally decided: he would reveal his strongest form.
It came with massive risks. He had escaped from the United Republic of Saherta. If they ever tracked him down, they'd send S-rank hunters after him—and then, he wouldn't stand a chance.
But against Ron, Hisoka, and Chrollo… if he didn't go all out, he couldn't win.
So Oster took the gamble.
Even after unleashing his true power, he couldn't take them down.
If anything, their countermeasures only grew more oppressive.
Thick fog blanketing the building.
Nen beasts that wouldn't die.
Playing cards flying in from the shadows.
Strange, unpredictable projectiles.
Oster's expression twisted.
"No. Something's wrong."
"This isn't just a criminal gang."
"It seems like all of this had been to set me up."
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