Sheila shook her head again.
"No, I don’t care and I don’t pay attention."
The old man’s anger deepened, his eyes burning with frustration. But there was nothing he could do to change Sheila’s mind.
"Cough! Cough!"
A violent fit of coughing wracked his frail body, making him tremble uncontrollably. His breath grew weaker, the life draining from him.
"I really don’t understand the kind of monsters you people from teor City are!"
"A place like that produces people like you... Maybe it deserves everything that happens to it."
For the first ti, Sheila’s expression shifted slightly. But before she could respond, the old man’s body slumped to the side. His arms hung limply.
Thud!
Once propped against the wall in a half-sitting position, he now collapsed completely, lifeless. The old man was dead.
Sheila rose to her feet, scanning the dimly lit room for an exit.
Kaizen watched her in silence, his mind still preoccupied with the information the old man had revealed.
Two things stood out to him. First, he hadn’t expected the situation to be like this. Second, he was surprised by how much the old man had known.
But after so thought, it made sense. The Kurta Clan had always been powerful. Even if they lived in seclusion, they must have had ways of obtaining information.
Sheila ticulously searched every corner of the chamber, but it was futile. There was no exit. The old man had spoken the truth.
With no other options, Sheila returned to the spot she had been sitting in earlier.
"Want to talk?" Kaizen offered.
Sheila frowned. "Talk?"
Kaizen shrugged. "The old man was right. We’re trapped here. There’s no way out. We’ll die here. Might as well pass the ti."
"I’ve been to teor City before."
"When I was there, things were bad—especially in the old district."
"The people there... they were like machines, cold and unfeeling."
Sothing about his words seed to strike a nerve with Sheila.
"teor City wasn’t always like that," she murmured, her gaze distant.
She drifted into mory.
"It used to be... better. But everything changed when outsiders started targeting our people."
"The elders? They’re disgusting."
"We’ve already been abandoned by the world. Why did they have to single us out? We did nothing wrong."
"Why did they treat us that way?"
Her fingers clenched into fists.
"Especially Sarasa’s death. That, we could never accept."
"That was the mont we made our decision."
"Chrollo and I chose different paths."
"Looking back now, maybe they were right. I doubted them, but they actually did it."
"With their own strength, they changed teor City."
"And slowly, they avenged Sarasa."
"Maybe... maybe I should’ve joined them."
Her face softened as she spoke, lost in the past.
Kaizen, listening quietly, spoke up.
"I know a bit about the Phantom Troupe. Their mbers are incredibly strong. They develop their abilities together. They specialize in group combat."
"I even worked briefly with one of them during my trip."
Sheila’s curiosity got the better of her. "Who?"
"A girl with long purple hair."
"Machi?"
For the briefest mont, the corners of Sheila’s lips twitched upward in an almost imperceptible smile.
"They actually saved a spot for back then."
"There were twelve of us."
"Originally, Chrollo wanted Uvogin to lead the Phantom Troupe. At the ti, he was the strongest among us."
"But Uvogin refused. He chose Chrollo instead. Everyone agreed."
"Turns out, Chrollo was a great leader."
"Not only did he manage the group well, but he also beca the strongest among us."
"Chrollo was Number 0."
"Nobunaga was Number 1."
"Feitan was Number 2."
"Machi was Number 3."
"Number 4 was a tribute to Sarasa. Soone else took that spot later."
"Phinks was Number 5."
"Shalnark was Number 6."
"Franklin was Number 7."
"They had reserved Number 8 for , but after I refused, soone else took the spot."
"Pakunoda was Number 9."
"Number 10 was Franklin’s younger brother, Flalke Lv.
"Uvogin was Number 11."
"Maybe Chrollo wanted Uvogin to be the last shield of the Troupe, but Uvogin saw things differently."
"Machi, Uvogin, and Nobunaga were inseparable—always together in Garbage Mountain."
"Franklin was a decent guy."
"Chrollo was a genius. Pakunoda had been with him since the beginning."
"Sarasa was my closest friend."
"It was Chrollo and Sarasa who brought us together."
"Feitan and Phinks? Bikers."
"Kalluto and Shalnark got along well."
"Shalnark and Chrollo used to get bullied by Uvogin."
Kaizen’s eyes flickered.
When he had eavesdropped on Phinks’ conversation back in teor City, he had started to suspect that the Phantom Troupe wasn’t what he had originally believed.
Hearing Sheila list their nas now, he knew for sure—so of the information he had co across before was incorrect.
The original Phantom Troupe only had seven founding mbers.
It wasn’t just a gang of criminals.
It wasn’t just Chrollo’s personal army.
The reality was far more complicated.
"Then again," Kaizen thought, "a lot of what’s known about them is just speculation. The real truth was never officially revealed in the original story. It’s normal for there to be misinformation."
"The Phantom Troupe’s origins."
"Their motives."
"Their original mbers."
"This could be valuable information in the future."
Sheila continued speaking.
By now, she seed to have accepted that there was no escape—that this room would be her tomb.
And as she reminisced about teor City and the Phantom Troupe, she couldn’t stop herself from slipping deeper into mory.
"At first, we just wanted to dub old tapes," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "If only things had stayed that way... If only no one had co to destroy our peace..."
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