He clearly didn’t want to elaborate.
Basho, hesitant to pry into another’s abilities, kept his questions to himself.
’What was that? That last attack was incredibly powerful!’
The onlookers finally regained their composure.
"So, we got him! I told you that rocket launcher could take out a tank!" one of them boasted.
"Good job. Taking out the Nen Beast weakens him. That helps us."
"I heard his ability is fire. Why a Nen Beast?"
Basho started to speak, but Kurapika stopped him.
"Ignore them. Let’s see Loki." He headed upstairs.
Their departure went unnoticed. Hundreds of people were outside, planning Loki’s capture.
On the fifth floor, Loki sat up.
"Efficient," he murmured, sensing Goki’s death. He hadn’t expected Goki to defeat Kurapika, only to subtly signal his unwillingness to et. But Kurapika was insistent.
Loki watched the stairwell. Minutes later, footsteps sounded, and Kurapika appeared, Basho behind him.
"Why are you here?" Loki asked.
Kurapika’s eyes dimd. "To save Gon and Killua."
"I’m not their babysitter, Kurapika."
"But they were captured because of you."
"So I should save them?" Loki looked at Kurapika. "I think you’re mistaken."
"What do you an?" Kurapika stepped closer, staring intently at Loki.
Loki smiled. "Do you consider us friends, Kurapika?"
"Aren’t we?"
"We collaborated on a common goal. Are you friends with Illumi, then?"
"It’s different."
"How so?" Loki shrugged.
The crowd fell silent. Loki turned, a sneer on his lips. "I didn’t plan on attacking your trash, but you angered ."
Boom! Red flas erupted from Loki’s fingertips, engulfing him.
"Then I’ll handle this myself!"
The flas intensified, filling everyone’s eyes. Fear replaced their bravado.
Before Loki moved, a man stepped forward, aiming a terrifying weapon at Loki: a Gatling gun with six massive barrels—a weapon usually mounted on a tripod, yet this man wielded it effortlessly.
Loki t his gaze unflinchingly.
"Brat, you’re confident in your Nen," the man sneered. "Countless Nen users have died by my hand. Surrender, or I’ll tear you apart."
The others reacted.
"Even strong Nen can’t stop all of us!"
"Hundreds of us? Nothing to fear."
They raised their weapons—guns, rockets, even Nen users with rifles—at Loki.
Loki understood. These weren’t brave; they were ignorant. They were here to die.
"Surrender, kid?"
Loki looked at the man. "Idiot."
"If you want to die, I’ll grant your wish."
The man pulled the trigger. The Gatling gun spun, unleashing a torrent of bullets.
Bang bang bang! Others opened fire. Bullets, rockets, and bombs rained down on Loki.
"Kurapika, dodge!" Basho pulled Kurapika away to avoid friendly fire. Pakunoda also moved.
Bullets and explosives flew everywhere. Loki didn’t move, raising his right hand, fingers spread. His eyes narrowed.
"Interesting. Let’s see if you can hurt ."
Boom! Flas erupted, spreading outwards. Explosions rocked the area. Loki was engulfed in the barrage.
Smoke billowed. The attacks continued for several minutes. The Gatling gunner’s arm was numb from recoil; his ammo was almost gone, and his barrels were red-hot.
He stopped firing. Others followed suit.
Smoke filled the area, obscuring Loki.
"He’s dead! No body left!"
"He’s probably in pieces. Our firepower could wipe out an army several tis over."
"Hmph, Nen users think they’re invincible."
"This S-Class criminal is done. No one will underestimate now."
"Let’s see what’s left to hand in."
Then, a familiar voice cut through the smoke.
"That actually hurt."
The chatter stopped instantly.
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