"No.3 is Machi.
No.4 is a seat in the Phantom Troupe to commorate Sarasa. Later, Kalluto joined and took the No.4 spot.
No.5 is Phinks.
No.6 is Shalnark.
No.7 is Franklin.
No.8 was reserved for , but since I never joined, it went to the current No.8.
No.9 is Pakunoda.
No.10 is Bonolenov.
No.11 is Uvogin.
Maybe Chrollo initially wanted Uvogin to be the leader, but Uvogin declined and chose Chrollo. By staying as
No.11, he symbolically beca the Troupe's final shield.
No.12 is Kortopi, who joined a bit later.
Machi, Uvogin, and Nobunaga ford a trio living off the trash heaps.
Franklin is a good-natured person.
Chrollo is very talented; Pakunoda has followed him from early on.
Sarasa was my best friend.
It's precisely because of Chrollo and Sarasa that we all gathered together.
Feitan and Phinks were in a biker gang.
Kortopi and Shalnark got along well.
Shalnark and Chrollo used to get bullied by Uvogin.
…"
Ron's thoughts kept shifting.
During his ti in teor City, after overhearing Phinks's conversation, he'd vaguely suspected that the real Phantom Troupe might be very different from what he'd heard.
Hearing Sheila list those nas out loud made him realize just how unreliable his previous info had been—things like how the original mbers were only seven, or that it was purely a criminal group ford solely to serve Chrollo…
Those were incorrect.
"Well, that information was never too trustworthy in the first place, mostly conjecture. It's no wonder there are mistakes.
Why the Phantom Troupe appeared, its goals, the original mbers…
All these details might co in handy one day."
Sheila went on and on. It was clear this was a topic dear to her.
By now, she seed to have accepted that there was no escaping and that she would die here.
Once Ron brought up teor City and the Phantom Troupe, her mories started to pour out uncontrollably, even without him prompting further.
"In the beginning, we got together just to do voice dubbing. If only it had stayed that way… Why did those people have to show up and shatter our peaceful life?"
Half a day passed.
Ron hadn't yet fully taken control of Sumas. Not having eaten in so long, he felt a wave of hunger.
Plus, even though Ron hadn't attacked the Kurta Clan mbers, he had fought several tis, which used up energy.
"Killer Queen."
He opened Killer Queen's internal space and took out so food.
Sheila glanced over.
Ron ate and sipped so juice.
"You want so?"
He noticed her gaze.
Sheila nodded frankly.
"But I won't just give it for free. What can you offer in exchange?"
There was no personal bond between Ron and Sheila, and logically speaking, Ron should harbour so resentnt. His coming to the Kurta Clan's refuge wasn't Sheila's fault—that was his own choice.
But he never would have been dragged into Sumas if the old man hadn't hauled Sheila inside…right when she was next to Ron.
As for the lucky outco of gaining the chance to master Sumas, Ron could have done that outside, too.
So there was no reason to offer her food for nothing.
Moreover, Sheila's values differed completely from Ron's—neither side was exactly right or wrong, but they weren't on the sa path.
Sheila did have natural talent. If not for her worldview, maybe Ron would have invited her to join his team, like he'd done before with Nina or Sally.
But Sheila would never put Ron's team first. She would forever put teor City above all else.
"What do you want?"
"No, no. You tell what you can offer, and I'll pick. If you agree, we'll trade."
Sheila stayed quiet for a mont.
"Right now, the only thing I can give is my body."
"I don't need that."
Ron shook his head.
He didn't care about Sheila's looks; besides, he was only twelve—too young for anything "indescribable."
It could affect his growth and potential, which was unacceptable.
"Tell more about the Phantom Troupe. What you said was interesting. Also, if there's anything noteworthy in teor City, or rumors of hidden treasures you've heard of, share them."
Sheila hesitated.
"What's the point? We're both stuck here."
"Just think of it as telling stories."
Ron shrugged.
Sheila began, "In the Sahelta Union, there's a place called the 'Town of the Reaper.' They say a copy of the Dark Sonata is buried there. Have you heard of the Dark Sonata?"
(Note: it is also called "Sonata of Darkness" but I like Dark Sonata more)
Ron nodded.
He knew from the original story that a Hunter nad lody had revealed it, containing four movents—for piano, violin, flute, and harp.
"For ordinary people, the Dark Sonata is terrifying. Both perforr and audience can be hard, even killed.
But for sufficiently strong Nen users, they can transform the Dark Sonata into a weaponized ability—an extra trump card."
Ron added reflexively, "Sothing akin to a Nen artifact?"
"In fact, the Dark Sonata is a form of Nen artifact—just an unusual one, unlike the typical kind."
Sheila regarded him.
"Is that enough?"
"It's worth a can of soda."
Ron tossed her one.
She caught it, popped it open, and drained it in gulps until it was empty.
"As for teor City, I know of a place called Disposal Valley—an extrely mysterious spot. The one who stitched Sarasa's remains back together, Lenzi, was from Disposal Valley. The Phantom Troupe's mbers also learned their Nen there.
There could be so incredibly powerful Nen users hidden in that place. But Disposal Valley and teor City don't really get along—it's a city within a city, so to speak."
Sheila swallowed the last of the cola.
"Could I get a loaf of bread?"
Ron nodded.
"Here."
He tossed her one.
"That sounds interesting. By the way, could you tell about each Phantom Troupe mber's abilities? They don't seem to be purely combat-focused. Why did they choose to develop them that way?"
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