Chương 57: Firepower and Truth

Archibald Fanobi knew Nen existed. The Fanobi Family's final guard, Jeff, was a Nen user. Even so, Archibald had always believed Nen users were only a little stronger than ordinary people. You could defeat one or two armed men. Perhaps ten. Perhaps a dozen. A hundred or a thousand were another matter entirely. The Fanobi Family had developed through money, manpower, and firepower. They did not lack anything else, but above all, they did not lack armed men.

The mafia members Aren's group had killed on this mountain alone already exceeded five hundred, and that did not include the family's other bases. The Fanobi Family's sixty-year rule was not limited to Gambi Town. Gambi Town was merely their cleanest territory. They had businesses elsewhere too. Light Nostrade dared promise that destroying the Fanobi headquarters would allow him to replace them for two reasons. First, Bart was the strongest non-Nen combatant in Gambi Town.

Second, once the Fanobi Family lost its leaders, internal struggles for power would begin. Every family-based mafia organization had that weakness. If Nostrade took advantage of the information gap, swallowed as much Fanobi territory as possible, and seized the weapons stored in this base, then the Nostrade Family could pull off the impossible and swallow a far larger organization whole. In Archibald's understanding, Nen users were useful as elite guards or special assault units for assassinating leaders.

For a real war, manpower and firepower were what mattered. Dignity existed at the edge of a blade. Truth existed within artillery range. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. That had been his belief before meeting Aren. Now all he could say was, "How can a monster like you exist?" He was not alone. Jeff, the Nen user the Fanobi Family relied on as their last defense, was sweating heavily and did not dare move.

He did not even think about obeying Archibald's orders. Uvogin, Nobunaga, Machi, Chrollo, Feitan, Franklin, and Pakunoda had formed a loose encirclement around him. Jeff could tell that these young members of the Troupe had only awakened Nen recently. They might even be slightly weaker than he was. But the gap was not large. They had fought their way out of Meteor City, a place built on corpses and blood. Their presence was stronger than Jeff's by far.

In physical strength, technique, and will, he held no real advantage over any single member. In Nen battles, ability mattered most. After that came body and technique. Will came last. Jeff did not possess a Nen ability strong enough to crush them. Just as Killua in the future could instantly kill the three so-called Rookie Crushers at Heavens Arena soon after awakening Nen, raw quality could decide a fight quickly. If Jeff moved carelessly, the seven would swarm him and kill him in an instant.

In the end, Jeff was only a lucky man who had stumbled into Nen. If he had truly been strong, he would not be hiding in a town like this.

"Wait!" Eisenhower Fanobi suddenly looked as if he had aged ten years. He had decided to stop resisting. As the previous head of the Fanobi Family, he at least possessed basic judgment. Of course he was furious about his grandson's death. But fury did not change the situation. Just like the countless people beneath them they had crushed before, being weak was the only sin that mattered. Continuing to resist would only add three corpses and bring the Fanobi Family to complete ruin.

"What do you want?" Eisenhower asked.

"You must be doing this for something. No matter what you want, as long as I can provide it, I will satisfy you." He put everything on the table. No bargaining. No pointless probing.

"Father!" Archibald shouted unwillingly.

"Mm. No wonder you used to lead the Fanobi Family. You carry yourself well." Aren's words carried no clear praise or mockery.

"Please speak," Eisenhower said, lowering his proud head to show submission.

"Whatever your demand is, the Fanobi Family will do everything possible to satisfy it."

"Before that, I need to handle one thing first." Aren looked toward Archibald.

"I hate people who try to shoot things at me."

"Stop!" Eisenhower understood the meaning and shouted immediately. But it was already too late. Or rather, his words had no power to change anything. The six bullets hovering in front of Aren shot forward, piercing Archibald's body. Six bursts of blood opened across his chest in a perfect circle. Watching his son fall, Eisenhower closed his eyes in grief. He was afraid the hatred in them would be seen. His grandson and son had been killed in front of him within minutes, and he could do nothing.

The blow was too great. But he knew he could not collapse yet. He needed to find a way to take revenge. The name Zoldyck surfaced in his mind.

'If I survive today, I, Eisenhower Fanobi, swear I will make you pay.' For a brief instant, hatred flickered in his eyes. Then he buried it and returned to stillness.

"Now that you have vented, sir, may I ask what exactly you want?" The deeper the hatred in his heart, the more humble Eisenhower's attitude became. Aren almost admired him. The old fox had frightening self-control.

"Oh? I killed your heirs, and you do not hate me?"