Chương 43: Fight Magic with Magic

'Huh?'

'Why am I flying? Is that... my body?' Those were the last thoughts of two of the guards before consciousness vanished. The third had no time to think at all. His final impression was a fist like a cinder block rushing toward his face. Then nothing. Two severed heads struck the floor. The moment the guards drew their guns, Uvogin, Nobunaga, and Feitan moved. All three men died instantly. The bald guard stood frozen, drenched in his companions' blood.

"How... how is this possible? You're only brats!" Cold sweat covered him. Aren's polite smile did not change.

"Do you understand what I meant about not knowing your place?" The guard had forgotten the strangest detail entirely: his punch still had not reached Aren. He wanted only to escape from the monsters he had mistaken for children. Uvogin and Franklin did not look much like children, admittedly. The bald man stepped backward. His trapped fist stopped him. An unknown force held his right hand in the air. He tried several times to retreat, then seized his own wrist with his left hand and pulled desperately.

Nothing worked.

"Sorcery," he whispered.

"You're monsters. Monsters wearing human faces." Aren lost interest. He glanced at Chrollo.

"Captain, do we keep this one? He looks like a minor leader." The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"No need," Chrollo said.

"Before he knew who we were, he said he could bring us to his boss. That means the boss is probably inside the bar. We no longer need him."

"I see." Space wrapped Aren's right hand. He slapped the bald guard across the face. The man's head vanished. Same trick as the two men outside. Aren used Limitless Technique to throw the spraying blood aside.

"Let's go in." He pushed open the demon-mouth door. Music struck them like a physical wave. Speakers surrounded the club on every side, blasting sound hard enough to make the walls vibrate. Below, the dance floor writhed with bodies under colored lights. Some patrons inhaled powders. Others swallowed pills. The Troupe frowned. The music was the worst part. Aren conjured a tissue, cleaned one ear with an irritated expression, and leaned close enough to say something to Uvogin.

Then he created industrial noise-reduction earplugs and tossed a pair to everyone. Once the others copied him and put them in, Uvogin stepped forward. He inhaled. Aura gathered in his throat.

"YOU BASTARDS! SHUT THE HELL UP AND BRING YOUR BOSS OUT!" His amplified roar crushed the music. The walls shook. Speakers failed one after another, their circuitry burning out under the vibration. Patrons screamed and clutched their ears.

"What happened? I can't hear!"

"My ears!" Some rolled on the floor in pain. The unlucky ones suffered ruptured eardrums. Many simply fainted. The club became quiet except for scattered cries. Aren nodded with satisfaction. Fight magic with magic. Doors on both sides of the club burst open. Armed men poured out, followed by a fat man wearing only his pants. Tattoos covered his body: a green dragon on one side and a white tiger on the other. He had rushed out too quickly to finish dressing. As he walked, he dug at one ear and cursed.

"Which asshole is making that noise? I was in the middle of something! A roar that loud almost made me go soft. You've got one hell of a throat!" Then he saw the injured customers scattered around the club. The layers of soundproofing around his private room had spared him from the worst of the shout. He had not realized how badly the main room had been hit. The Troupe was the only group still standing. The culprit was obvious. The fat boss pointed at Uvogin.

"You! Which side sent you to wreck my place? Who attacks the customers too? You have no damn rules!" Chrollo removed his earplugs and stepped forward with a smile.

"You are the boss, correct? We came because we have something to ask..." This time, Chrollo miscalculated. The man had survived in the underworld long enough to skip speeches once he decided someone was hostile.

"Ask my ass!" he shouted.

"Kill them!" Men in suits raised machine guns and pulled the triggers. Muzzle flashes tore through the darkness. Chrollo's expression stiffened. The Troupe scattered. They were not yet strong enough to block machine-gun fire with their bodies. Aren laughed. It was the first time he had seen Chrollo caught in such an awkward position. Then Aren stepped in front of Machi and Pakunoda. Their physical abilities were not yet enough to evade a storm of bullets safely. Limitless Technique activated. Every bullet stopped.

The more the men fired, the more bullets gathered in front of Aren, until a wall of metal hung in the air. The gangsters stared at him with widening eyes. Their weapons had become meaningless. And Aren still wore the same smile.