Despite losing his nen abilities, Kuroro could still easily handle these small-time bandits. After all, he was once the leader of the Phantom Troupe. Even without enhancing his body with nen, killing ordinary people was child’s play for him.
In the original story, Killua, from the Zoldyck family of assassins, had killed countless people before learning nen. Kuroro’s past in Meteor City was no less harsh than Killua’s.
With his hands casually in his pockets, Kuroro walked forward, as if he were merely a tourist strolling through a temple. His eyes were unnaturally calm as he thought to himself.
According to the information extracted from the captured bandits, there should be a so-called ninja among them. If I capture him, I can learn how to train in chakra. But… if I can’t produce chakra myself, I won’t be much use to Rin…
Based on Rin’s reaction, the top-tier ninjas in this world likely possess unimaginable power. After all, his shock wasn’t faked…
Kuroro’s eyes flickered with a glint of resolve. Even if I can’t train in chakra, there must be other ways to gain power in this world. I just need to wait patiently…
Just as Kuroro was deep in thought, a tall figure blocked his path.
“Hmm? Who are you!?”
A burly bandit with a bald head and a drunk expression glared at Kuroro, his breath reeking of alcohol.
Kuroro, interrupted from his thoughts, looked up, his deep black eyes meeting the bandit’s gaze with eerie calmness. He murmured softly, “The second one…”
Without warning, his hand moved in a swift arc before him.
“Shing!”
Blood sprayed as Kuroro stepped past the bandit, continuing his walk with an expressionless face. Behind him, the burly bandit collapsed silently, blood pooling around him.
Kuroro walked along the broad veranda, approaching the bustling temple hall where the bandits drank.
“Torajirou, get some more sake! Today I want to drink heartily with Lord Kuken!”
One bandit shouted, prompting another lackey to run out of the hall.
Inside the hall, beneath the central Buddha statue, a middle-aged man leaned against the statue, his face flushed from drinking. Rough men surrounded him, urging him to drink more.
“Lord Kuken, let us toast you again! If not for you leading us, we wouldn’t have the good life we have today!”
“Yes, yes, let us toast to you again!”
The burly men raised their cups to the middle-aged man, who accepted their toasts with a pleased expression.
“Clang!”
A sudden noise from outside drew everyone’s attention.
“Torajirou!? Can’t you even handle fetching some sake!?”
The burly man who had given the order earlier frowned, his red face showing anger. Everyone turned to look at the entrance.
Outside, Torajirou’s body lay on the ground, still twitching. His face was frozen in terror, a thin red line on his neck steadily leaking blood.
A tall figure stood at the well-lit entrance: Kuroro!
The bandits, momentarily stunned by Kuroro’s appearance, snapped back to attention. The burly man shouted, “Who are you!? How did you get here!?”
As the man’s voice fell, the drunken bandits sobered up. The middle-aged man, Lord Kuken, frowned and scrutinized Kuroro.
Facing the bandits’ hostile stares, Kuroro’s expression remained unchanged. His calm eyes surveyed the room as he spoke indifferently, “There should be a ninja among you. Can he come out?”
The bandits looked at Lord Kuken, their faces changing as they realized the stranger’s audacity.
The burly man who had given the order earlier couldn’t hold back. He stood up, grabbing a stick, and approached Kuroro angrily. “You fool! Do you know who you’re talking to!?”
The man’s large frame loomed over Kuroro as he swung the stick at Kuroro’s head.
“Crack!”
In a swift, silent movement, Kuroro stepped forward. The bandit didn’t even see what happened as his neck snapped, and he collapsed to the ground.
The hall fell silent.
Casually wiping his hands, Kuroro looked up, his deep eyes devoid of any emotion as he spoke again, “Which one of you is the ninja? Please come out.”
“Gulp…”
The bandits, though rough, weren’t brainless. At this moment, their eyes were fixed on the corpse of the burly man who had been alive just seconds ago, involuntarily swallowing their saliva.
What kind of monster is this guy!?
“Heh, an interesting fellow. Are you a ninja too?”
Among the uneasy bandits, the middle-aged man called Lord Kuken let out a cold laugh. He then staggered to his feet, staring intently at Kuroro.
Despite the cold sweat on his forehead and a hint of unease in his eyes, he maintained a facade of composure.
Kuroro glanced at him, his gaze as if looking at a dead man, and said calmly, “Are you the ninja?”
Under that deathly silent gaze, a deep sense of unease welled up in Kuken’s heart.
Who is this guy really!?
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