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Chapter 136
🕑 Added 2025-01-04 17:58:55 +0000 UTCKastro’s initial sneak attack from underground tore through the scar-faced man’s abdomen, shredding his internal organs to pieces.
A single punch followed, landing squarely on his chest, reducing his ribcage to powder and turning his heart into a mass of pulp. With injuries like these, there was no doubt—he was utterly dead, with no chance of survival.
“I never expected this...”
Kute, his square face dark with anger, glared at Kastro’s youthful visage and spat out his words one by one:
"Our Kute Bandit Group’s first setback since resurfacing... and it comes at the hands of a snot-nosed brat like you!”
His aura surged, and murderous intent burned in his eyes.
If their defeat had been dealt by a seasoned Hunter or a veteran powerhouse, it might have been understandable.
But who would have imagined that the one to deal them such a devastating blow was an unknown, unremarkable nobody?!
Even with all his frustration, Kute could barely tolerate the humiliation of such an outcome.
“This will be your first and your last,” Kastro stated calmly. “After today, the name ‘Kute Bandit Group’ will cease to exist in this world.”
“Arrogant wretch!”
Kute roared in fury, and his second-in-command glared angrily as well.
Meanwhile…
When one of the bandits struck at Kastro, his figure dissolved into thin air.
“An illusion?!”
The bandits froze in realization before quickly piecing it together.
“It disappears as soon as it’s attacked!”
Understanding this weakness, the bandits altered their strategy. They no longer aimed to injure the opponent, focusing instead on forcing the illusions to vanish with targeted strikes.
By doing this, they could free themselves up to teach the cocky brat a brutal lesson about the harshness of reality and the terror of the Kute Bandit Group.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Under the deliberate and focused attacks, three illusions vanished one after the other.
But when they struck the fourth figure—
Thunk!
A bandit’s fist collided with a tiger claw, and no illusion shattered.
Instead, a dull thud reverberated as their fist met solid resistance.
“What... is this?”
Feeling the pain radiating from his fist, the bandit’s expression twisted in shock.
“You guessed wrong.”
The previously expressionless Kastro before him suddenly smirked.
“This one’s the real deal!”
Who said that the one talking to your boss had to be the real body? Couldn’t it just be another illusion?
As his words landed, the tiger claw clenched around the bandit’s fist, aura surging to crush the bones within to fragments.
“ARGHH!!”
The bandit let out a gut-wrenching scream.
Their prior attacks to dispel illusions had left their fists barely shrouded in defensive Nen. Under Kastro’s grip, the hand was entirely destroyed.
But that wasn’t the end.
As the bandit’s mind reeled in pain, Kastro yanked him forward mercilessly.
At the same time, his other hand, already brimming with immense aura, formed a sharp blade with his fingers.
With one swift motion, it sliced cleanly through the bandit’s neck like silk, severing the head with precision.
“Sixth Brother!!”
The remaining bandits howled in rage and despair.
In such a short time, Kastro had effortlessly claimed the lives of two of their comrades.
First, he ambushed and assassinated their Third Brother. Then, he intentionally revealed the weakness of his illusions, even having an illusion converse with their leader.
This misdirection led them to believe that the one speaking to their boss must be the real body, while the ones fighting them were mere illusions.
This lapse in judgment allowed Kastro to bide his time, finding the perfect moment to eliminate their Sixth Brother.
This level of manipulation—treating them like playthings—completely enraged their leader, Kute.
Unable to hold back any longer, Kute raised his hand and fired a powerful Nen blast.
“How dare you!!”
The attack was immense, taking the form of a large hand-shaped projectile.
“A combination of Emission and Transmutation types?”
Kastro observed the technique and deduced its nature.
“It seems strong, but it’s not enough to be their ultimate ability. This is likely just an offensive technique.”
“Judging by this, the leader is most likely an Enhancer.”
“Enhancers typically excel in two types of attacks: aura blasts and spatial strikes.”
Kastro recalled Morin’s teachings, processing the information with calm efficiency.
All of this, accumulated in actual combat, transformed into invaluable experience for Kastro.
“These two types of attacks rely on maintaining a long distance.”
“To restrain him, I’ll need to close the gap and engage him in close combat.”
While Kastro quickly analyzed the situation in his mind, he glanced at the remaining bandits, whose eyes were red with rage as they prepared to pounce and take him down.
With a sense of caution, he decisively retreated a dozen meters, creating distance between himself and the group.
“If I fight their leader at close range, I’ll definitely end up surrounded. To handle this...”
Kastro hesitated for a moment, then turned and ran!
The enraged bandits froze for a moment at this unexpected move.
But soon, they snapped out of it.
“You little brat, you’ve got guts running away! Get back here!!”
The group erupted in anger, utterly infuriated by Kastro’s behavior.
Fighting and then fleeing, killing their comrades and escaping unscathed—was he planning to take all the advantage for himself?!
Letting their brothers die and walking off scot-free? Not a chance!
The remaining bandits unleashed their Nen and gave chase, their fury propelling them forward.
“Everyone, stop!!”
At that moment, the leader, Kute, shouted, his expression shifting with a hint of unease as he tried to call them back.
“Let them go, big brother,” the second-in-command interjected, stepping forward to stop him.
“If we let him kill our men and walk away unscathed, it would dishonor our fallen Third and Sixth Brothers—and it would trample on our dignity!”
“He’s stomped our pride into the ground. If the others have even a shred of bloodlust, they won’t let him get away!”
The second-in-command continued:
“Moreover, if we let him leave and spread the word, what will become of the Kute Bandit Group’s reputation?!”
“We worked so hard to return—why? To remind the world of the terror of the Kute Bandit Group!”
“But if that kid spreads his tale unchecked, we’ll become a laughingstock. Our revival would be nothing but a joke!”
“Even knowing there might be traps ahead or that they could walk into an ambush...”
“They’d rather die fighting than let their years of effort be reduced to ridicule.”
With that, the second-in-command gave Kute a deep bow before joining the others in the pursuit of Kastro.
Kute stood in the now-empty casino hall and let out a deep sigh, a growing sense of foreboding weighing on him.
“Have we truly reached our end?”
Kute lifted his head, gazing through the shattered ceiling at the bright full moon above, a hint of despair creeping into his expression.
“The Kute Bandit Group... has it fallen so far that even a snot-nosed brat can humiliate us like this?”
“No. Anyone who dares provoke the Kute Bandit Group will pay a price!”
Kute’s eyes turned blood-red. “A price in blood!!”
He opened his hand, which had been tightly clutching a piece of paper, and took out his phone.
“No matter who you are or where you’re hiding, once they’ve set their sights on you...”
“You—and your family, your clan—will all regret ever coming into this world!!”
Kute pressed the dial button.
Meanwhile, not far from the scene.
In the Republic of Bartolia, within a renowned mountainous area.
In the Dentora region stood an imposing peak known as Kukuroo Mountain.
It was one of the most famous landmarks of the area, along with the Gate of Trials, collectively known as the “Two Death Landmarks” of Dentora.
And behind the Gate of Trials, atop Kukuroo Mountain, resided a world-renowned family.
The Zoldyck Family—the most infamous family of assassins in the world.
This illustrious family consisted of ten blood relatives: a great-great-grandfather, grandparents, parents, and five brothers.
The eldest was the great-great-grandfather, Maha Zoldyck, while the youngest was the fifth son, Kalluto Zoldyck, currently two years old.
Except for the grandmother, all other family members lived on Kukuroo Mountain. Separated from the outside world by the Gate of Trials, they had been an assassination family for generations, with photos of their members fetching prices nearing 100 million Jenny.
At this moment, within the grand hall of the Zoldyck Family’s mansion, an ominous air filled the space.
“Click.”
Gotoh, who had recently assumed the role of head butler from Tsubone, hung up the phone.
He turned to the current patriarch of the Zoldyck Family, Silva Zoldyck, and reported a high-stakes business request.
“The client is the Kute Bandit Group?”
Silva, his steel-like silver hair gleaming under the light, his towering frame and chiseled face resembling a lion’s, repeated the information.
“I handed them our card on a whim. I didn’t expect they’d ever actually contact us.”
