Joey crouched by his phone, left hand regenerating coin by coin, fingers twitching like the keys of a typewriter clicking through the death warrant of another man.
The fly was gone.
So was Lihan.
Disintegrated by Killer Queen: First Bomb.
Perfectly.
The beetle-camera gave him just enough vision—distanced to avoid detection by Benjamin's En perimeter, close enough to monitor the ambush.
He had used only three wireless cameras—custom jobs crafted by Piyonte, laced with borrowed Nen.
2000-era tech had nothing near this fidelity.
Every shot, every angle, had to count.
The coins dropped from the vent shaft weren't random.
They framed the Third Prince—his Guardian Beast, after all, produced coins.
Let them draw the wrong conclusions.
Let Benjamin burn his wrath elsewhere.
And just in case the attack failed, Joey had backup plans:
A lighter disguised as a dragonfly.
A coin, Nen-forged into a mouse, ready to manipulate the lighter from inside the ducts.
An insect network to maintain optical control.
Then came the launch:
First the swallow—to draw attention, be seen, misdirect.
Then, the skull tank—the homing weapon.
Invisible to non-Nen users.
Death on wheels.
It had worked like a blueprint being read by a god.
Lihan, always cautious, saw the fly, hesitated...
Swatted.
Boom.
Gone.
Another first-tier hunter erased from history.
No Nen aura.
No ghostly howl.
Just a coin left behind—smoking and slick with reality's unraveling.
Joey smiled at the screen, then looked to the left corner of the room.
There were four others still tied up.
And something was wrong.
They were supposed to be from known factions.
But Kurapika's last-minute info revealed none of them were from First Queen Unma's faction.
Which meant...
One of the six wasn't who they claimed to be.
He narrowed it down.
Three were Nen users:
Nipeba
Raloku
Juan
But only Juan had been too calm during Joey's earlier displays.
Suspiciously calm.
Kurapika left with Prince Momoze and Bragi, headed to Third Prince Zhang Lei's room.
Joey let them go, nodding politely.
As Bragi passed, a mosquito landed softly on his shoulder.
Not a real one.
A poison needle in disguise.
A failsafe.
If Bragi betrayed them in Zhang Lei's room?
A single bite—instant death.
Even better, if anyone tried to swat the bug, it'd revert into a vial of poison.
And anyone holding poison?
With guards in the room?
Would be shot on sight.
Simple.
Brutal.
Effective.
Joey shut the door.
Turned.
Faced the four tied prisoners.
"Let's talk," he said casually.
Juan grinned.
"Not much to say."
Joey's eyes flicked to the other three.
And froze.
Playing cards.
On their necks.
When had they been placed?
"Wait—!"
Too late.
The cards glowed pink.
Swish.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Three heads hit the floor.
Eyes wide.
Mouths locked in silent horror.
Blood jetted like snapped arteries in a firehose.
Painted the walls.
Pooled at Joey's feet.
Only he remained untouched—a pressure shield of air shielding his body.
Juan sat upright.
The ropes slid off.
The face beneath peeled away like a mask.
"Took you long enough," said Hisoka, smiling with a killer's glee.
"Ah... delicious chaos. Didn't expect to bump into you here."
Joey exhaled.
Didn't flinch.
"So what now? Should I call the guards? Say an intruder murdered three detainees? Or are you going to help clean up your mess?"
Hisoka blinked.
Grinned.
"Oops. Yeah, fair point. Guess flushing them won't work, huh?"
Joey stared.
"Try harder."
Hisoka licked his lips.
"Tell you what—you clean them up. I know what your right hand can do. And besides…"
He leaned forward, voice low with excitement.
"You're... better than I thought. More... ripe."
Hisoka had watched everything.
Let himself get caught.
Sat quietly for hours.
Measured Joey.
Tasted the tension.
"You and Kurapika… exquisite prey. But you?"
"You're the dessert."
Joey scowled, snapping his fingers.
Coins flashed. Flesh vanished.
The room cleaned body by body.
A summer storm began outside.
Joey summoned rain through Weather Report, washing away the blood.
He held his phone up, eyeing the live feed from Third Prince's suite.
"Kurapika has two guards now. You make it three."
"When he returns, I'll tell him who you are."
Hisoka tilted his head.
"Don't ruin the game. If he finds out… the Phantom Troupe hunt might go off-script."
"Let it simmer. We'll all have more fun."
Joey didn't respond.
Just cleaned.
Prepared.
Because somewhere outside, in a hallway now scorched and soaked…
The real war had only just begun.