"This is something else," Killua commented, leaning down to touch the dirt with his fingertip. "I don't think any normal person can tell that Lucky got his guts shot out right here."

Lucky squinted at a leaf, but it would take a luminol reaction to determine if the smear on it was blood or dirt. "Since I went through all that pain, I'd at least like someone to notice."

Rein looked through the gaps in the woods, looking for the flash of a rifle or traces of an ambush. "I just hope that group is really gone."

"It's concerning." Killua brought his hands behind his head and lay down on the grass. "An attack pulled back so suddenly has to have some other motive behind it. The whole operation was organized and carefully executed. There were lots of talented Nen users too, and you guys only managed to get away alive because of me."

"And me!"

"And Gon." Killua's eyes trailed clouds through cracks in the canopy. "Think about it. The enemy force was too perfectly parred with the members of your group. They knew where you were going and were waiting for you to pass by with a plan in mind to keep Feitan occupied, and a buttload of machine guns to keep it that way, because they knew that only one wouldn't be enough to hold him back. Isn't that weird?"

"Then they retreat for no reason," muttered Gon, a hand cupping his chin. "I guess that is weird." He sat down, and everyone followed. He asked Killua, "Do you think Kurapika has anything to do with it?"

"The reason they retreated was because two people they weren't prepared for came crashing in." He gave Gon a small, triumphant fist bump. "But the reason they aren't coming back despite the fact that we've received casualties means the retreat was probably, like you said, because of Kurapika."

"So," Gon gave a hopeful grin here, "He'll pull away from the organization?"

"Idiot," he drew out, sitting up to look at Gon like he was crazy. "With that kind of optimistic thinking, we wouldn't be here in the first place."

Lucky shivered when the wind ran through. He zipped his jacket up all the way, trying to huddle in its warmth. Today was the last day Machi said he would need to keep his bandages on, but because most of the injuries were on his thighs or torso, his normal denim jeans had been replaced with loose khakis, and he'd refrained from having a shirt entirely because it hurt to put it on. Since the bandages covered up most of his chest anyway, he'd figured it would be easier to go without a shirt. But now, outside in a thin jacket, he was having some regrets.

He pulled up his hood to his neck. "That friend of yours is in a bit of a situation, isn't he?"

"More than a bit," Killua laughed, but there was a bitter undertone to it. "It just doesn't match him. Not around people like that. Not doing that line of work. He doesn't belong there."

"Really?" Rein asked. "Could you... why would someone... after all he's done, why can you say-"

"Hm." Gon crossed his legs and held them close, rocking back and forth. "Kurapika is a good person. I just know, just like I knew you were a good person, even if you lied. What people did... Aunt Mito says it's more about what they do, you know?" Not giving her a chance to speak, he changed the topic. "You guys said you wanted to think of your Nen ability, right? Need pointers? I think your Hatsu is going to be super important from now on."

"I already have mine set," said Lucky through the muffled sound of his jacket.

He took a moment to breathe in, and as he did, black swirled into yellow and weaved a thick scroll of papyrus. He held out his hand to the paper and snapped, causing it to fall open. All his practice for the past three days had been worth it, for the ink bled words into it instantly. Lucky grabbed the paper from the air and started to read. "To survive now, I need: a jacket." He looked down. "Looks like I'll be fine today."

"What?" Killua shoved his hands into his pockets. "What's that gonna-"

"I see." It was the first time Kalluto had spoken up. "You made your Hatsu give you a list of what you need to get through the day."

"Spot on, Staircase." Lucky showed them the list and ignored their confused looks at the nickname. "I'm going to use foresight. Specialist abilities mostly work on concepts, so I guessed time was a pretty good one to go with. My ability is going to tell me what I'll need in the future. My job is to get that and figure out how to use it. I'm used to winging things, so this should go well."

Rein let go of her thoughts and shoved them aside. Going over whatever she was feeling wouldn't help now. "Your Hatsu is so you." She sighed. "It's perfect. It screams Lucky. Meanwhile I still have absolutely no idea. It's been like this for years!"

Zushi raised his hand. "I have an idea, actually. For my ability, though, not yours. But I want to see if it makes sense."

"Oh, great. Coming from the person who didn't want to manipulate despite being a Manipulator, an idea sounds wonderful," Kalluto said, casting aside the bewildered look his older brother gave him. "Let's hear it."

"I will control myself. Hear me out!" Zushi pleaded quickly. "If I control my brain, I can heighten my senses, numb myself to pain, and be able to keep my body working for longer."

Lucky pulled down his jacket. "That's actually a good idea," he marveled. "You could strengthen your endurance and tap into hysterical strength whenever you needed it. I'll bet if you controlled the influx of chemicals your brain releases, you could also hold down emotions like fear or panic. It could also work if you managed your hypothalamus."

"Uh... yes."

"Zushi!" The expression on Gon's face couldn't be read as anything other than proud. And for a person who had been forbidden from using Ren just a few months before to thinking about Hatsu, it was certainly a huge step. "You've improved a lot since we saw you last! Did you become a floor master at Heaven's Arena already? Did you leave Wing because you reached that goal?"

"Not really," Zushi rubbed the back of his head and smiled awkwardly. "I left Heaven's Arena of my own will, and I wasn't a floor master yet. Wing-san trained me hard, but most of my improvement lately is all thanks to Feitan-san." He beamed.

Killua's eyebrow twitched, and he looked over at Gon. "Feitan-san," he repeated. Gon didn't seem to understand how he was feeling, so he turned to Rein, but she only cocked her head at him. In the end, Killua looked at Kalluto and tilted his head in the slightest of ways.

Though they might not have understood each other, the Zoldycks were skilled at communicating without actually talking. It had been a essential at dinnertime, when one of their tongues were swollen from building immunity to a new poison, or when they were practicing staying as silent as possible even when eating. And the subtle glances, the slight inclination of the head, and the doubtful look in his eyes were all leading to one question. Did Zushi know what kind of people he was with? Did he know that they were the infamous Phantom Troupe?

Kalluto's response was almost the same, a repositioning of the head and a small blink: no.

"I wasn't sure, but if you all think my Hatsu is a good idea," Zushi stood and stuck out his arms, "I will go seek acceptance from Feitan-san now!" With a short wave he was gone, jogging back towards the lodge and hoping his mentor would approve his Nen ability.

*     *     *

Zepile fumbled with his lighter, unable to hold back curses when it wouldn't ignite.

He'd reluctantly started to follow their group again, per instructions of his employer. True, his job was to follow and report anything necessary, but the reason for his hesitance had been the last email he'd gotten. His employer had contacted him through email, when it had been only text before. And the grammar structure and the way of speech had seemed off since he'd last checked. It was authoritative, but not in the same way it had been when he'd last been contacted, and he didn't understand.

He spared a quick glimpse at the lodge and after confirming no one was leaving, entering, or setting the place on fire, he went back to caring about his smoking. At this point, it wasn't really stalking anymore. Zepile was just kneeling in the dirt and getting his pants dirtied as he looked at the lodge from afar and essentially did nothing. He was cold, wet, and frankly, quite miserable.

He tried his lighter a few more times, to no avail. He tossed it to the ground and gave up, nearly biting the butt off his cigarette in frustration.

"Oi." A flame was held up to his face.

"Oh, thanks."

It was after Zepile had taken the match that he scrambled back in surprise, flame falling and simmering to embers on the damp forest floor.

The man who'd approached him was a good half-head taller, dirty blond hair pulled back nicely to reveal hairless eyebrows and calculating eyes. Those eyes glared down angrily at him, a daunting sneer hidden behind his look as if taunting him before dragging him off to the lions. His mouth was run dry when the man cracked his knuckles and set a firm hand on his shoulder, gripping too sharply for comfort.

He tried to gulp down his nerves along with the realization that his man could crush him to pieces if he wanted to, and judging by his expression, he probably did. "Could, c-could I, uh, help you?"

The man's lid twitched before taking Zepile by the collar and hoisting him up easily. His look narrowed. "We need to talk."

*     *     *

Inside the lodge, Machi had been trying to think of a strategy to go up against the organization targeting Lucky.

They needed a scenario that ended with the least casualties on their side. But if their entire goal was to kill Lucky, it would be hard. Without much information on the group or any more interaction with them, Machi wouldn't be able to figure anything out, and someone would be long dead by the time she did.

Feitan didn't seem to have any ideas either. If it were only the Spiders, they could probably go up against the organization and bring them down. But most of their group right now was made of inexperienced Nen-users, who were only starting on their Nen abilities. They could get in the way.

As original Phantom Troupe members, they both could think of multiple strategies where their side would win. But a win was not what they wanted. If they won with casualties, it would all be for naught. Both Spiders were under the mutual understanding that Lucky was not someone they would sacrifice.

They were still raking their brains clean when Phinks barged in, dragging a man behind him. "This guy's been spying on you," he stated bluntly, and threw him onto the sofa. "There was also a lookout force on the next mountain over, but I took them out too. Seriously, were you two just slacking off while I was gone?"

Feitan ignored his taunts, his gaze going straight to the man, who he recognized from the Hunter Exam. "Oh. You."

Machi stood up, her threads at the ready. "I can tie him up. Take him to the back room and Feitan, you use your methods and get information out of him."

Feitan's painted skull twisted in the way that they'd learned indicated he was grinning behind his mask. He was about to reach out with sharp nails when Phinks held out an arm to hold him back.

"No need. I already know why."

"Y-you, uh, do?" Zepile swallowed.

Phinks sat with a hand on his knee. "That brat, you know he's your son, right?"

He blinked. "What?"

"Don't play dumb." His voice was lowering into a growl, and he had to pull himself together to keep a normal speaking voice. "You remember. Dyed pale blue hair, freckles, hearing aids. I'd like to see you pull another person from this world who fits that description."

The flicker of comprehension in his eyes, though not immediate, was evident enough to tell them that yes, he did remember someone like that. "W-wait, he's... who? Who's my... what?"

"The boring brown one."

"Wait, n-no. It's true that I did some stupid things when I was younger, but... do you have proof? Because... it can't be true, can it?"

Machi and Feitan were equally bewildered, though they did a far better job at hiding it. The assumption that Zushi was Temmi's—their former number eight—son had been made long ago. Nen was a hereditary trait that could be passed on, and passed on it certainly had been. But they'd never known who the father was, even when they made a brief search years ago.

Phinks scowled. "If you're not getting it through that thick skull, I'll explain from the top, so you better listen good. Ten years ago, we raided an auction house. Guess where, dimwit."

*     *     *

Kurapika stood with his heels respectfully pulled together, but his expression was livid. "When did you find out of my outside informant?"

The room was darkened, his employer sitting in a chair with jewels that glittered their finest under the dimmed lighting. "Please. Don't assume you were ever out of the sight of my supervision."

"I was under the assumption that the head of your forces was someone to be trusted."

He chuckled here. "The only person I trust is me. People of power and wealth are always targeted by the lower ones. I can't afford to have any faith in you. However, if you tell me why you were relying on an outside force and what for, I might reconsider and place my confidence where it's worthy."

Kurapika clenched his teeth. "I'll have to turn down that offer." With a slight bow he took his leave, setting aside the urge to push the guards aside and slam the door shut himself.

The man he'd met during his time in Yorknew City, Zepile, was only supposed to report to him, and that he had. But Kurapika hadn't known his phone would be taken from him and used to send and receive an email when he wasn't looking. It was partially his own fault for letting it happen, but thinking about what other secrets his employer could have found out about made a bitter taste rise in his mouth. If anyone else other than the people he trusted found out that two Kurtas had escaped the massacre alive with their eyes intact, it was only a matter of time before the world would be after them in an attempt to retrieve the last pairs of Scarlet Eyes for themselves. And people like his selfish employer, driven only with self interest, were not to be trusted.

If he or Aira were placed in such a situation again... he wouldn't know what to do. After coming all this way to lose someone he promised Pairo he'd protect, he didn't know if he could live through such a blow again.

To think that the group she was with also included the person his employer was trying to eliminate sent his heart racing all over again at just what could have gone wrong. He'd been relieved when Zepile informed him that she was safe, though he'd been angry for letting them get into such a corner, along with Gon and Killua.

Kurapika didn't know why his employer wanted the one called Lucky dead. He and the rest of the forces had only been informed that he was an extremely dangerous individual, meant to be incapacitated first before being brought to the boss so he could finish him off himself.

If Lucky was truly dangerous to keep alive, then it made sense for him to want him away from Aira. But she was friends with him, or so Zepile told him. Close friends. Why he was with the Spiders he wasn't certain, but he wasn't a Phantom Troupe member. If she'd found someone to be a true friend after losing everyone, he was hesitant to do away with him. Even if he did try to send out forces to kill him again, she might retaliate like she did a few months ago, and get hurt in the process. And he knew Gon and Killua would try to interfere and get caught in the crossfire. Kurapika supposed he would have to procrastinate and stretch things out for as long as possible.

As he finally set out and traveled the heavily carpeted hallway, his movements were being watched from behind the room he'd just left.

His employer smirked whilst viewing Kurapika from his personal security cameras. "It seems as if he's still hesitant to do as I say." He leaned away from the screen. A wineglass hung from his fingertips as he said, "At this rate, I'll end up taking direct action to get what I want."

ah yes we have found out who the texter is.
So Kurapika's employer will remain nameless and faceless, because he's only important as a background character (yeah that's right, that's what you get for wanting to kill Lucky).

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