[136]: Read

August 31, 1999

Before the September Auction, Yorknew was hosting an underground auction—an exclusive event for mafia groups. Of course, there were also countless other smaller underground auctions happening.

But on the 31st? This was the main course before the Southernpeace Auction. Everything else? Just appetizers.

While Southernpeace mainly auctioned legal goods, the underground auction was for items of… questionable origins. And only mafia members could receive an invitation.

For example—Nion Nostrade. Or Maro Perlicia. Naturally, since Maro was invited, Cyr was also on the guest list.

Guests in black suits entered one after another. Cyr barely distinguished who was a bodyguard and who was a boss, because whether they were seated, standing on stage, or off to the side, everyone was dressed in black.

…Well, except for him. In his white suit, he was a lone spot of white in a sea of black—painfully conspicuous.

"Cyr!" A cheerful voice rang out. The blonde girl had spotted him instantly.

Neon ran toward him, while her exasperated entourage had no choice but to follow.

Before attending, Neon had already used her ability to predict the fates of several mafia bosses at the auction. Because of what she saw, the Nostrade family strongly forbade her from attending herself.

But—Neon threw a tantrum. A relentless one. And when she insisted, "Cyr will be there!" Dalzollene begrudgingly agreed.

Just a quick look—if Cyr wasn't there, they'd leave immediately.

That was the plan.

But Dalzollene never actually intended to let her come. So, he made sure her bodyguards stayed close.

…Didn't matter. She shook them off, claiming she wanted to shop for clothes. Then? She escaped through a fitting room's hidden exit.

By the time Kurapika messaged him, Dalzollene just sighed—"Yeah. Sounds exactly like her."

As her bodyguards, what could they do? Split up and search.

Dazoll guessed she'd head for the auction hall, so he brought his team over, using his status as the Nostrade bodyguard captain to gain access.

And as soon as they arrived—he saw her, running straight toward that white-haired brat.

Dalzollene froze for a moment.

Beside him, a short, odd-looking figure subtly glanced at him.

Dalzollene heartbeat—a flicker of surprise? …Did he know that white-haired boy?

Meanwhile, Neon Nostrade's heartbeat spiked the moment she saw that same white-haired boy.

…Interest? …Attraction?

But the white-haired boy's heartbeat? Steady. Calm. Unchanging. From start to finish.

"See?! I told you you'd come!" Neon huffed, then pouted at Dazoll.

"He kept saying you wouldn't come! He even tried to stop me! Good thing I'm smart and escaped!"

She rambled on, complaining about how Dalzollene never let her go out alone, how he forbade her from attending the auction—

To her, it was unfair and ridiculous.

"Cyr, are you even listening?!" When she got no response, she dragged out his name in annoyance.

But then she paused.

The blue-eyed boy was simply watching her, his gaze calm, his expression unreadable. Then, he spoke—

"…Oh. You're here too?"

Wait.

Did Neon show up at the original auction? If she did… Didn't she die? If she died, then how did the Spiders' leader ever get to use her ability?

Neon didn't seem like someone who'd leave a lingering Nen after death.

So, if she survived—who saved her? Dalzollene? …Didn't seem strong enough.

Then who?

Or maybe… she wasn't supposed to be here in the original story, but the plot changed?

"Eh? What do you mean?" Neon huffed. "They sent me an invitation—of course I'm here."

What I mean is, your strength isn't enough to be here. You could easily die.

A minor side character with a bit of screen time—if she showed up here, wouldn't she just become instant cannon fodder?

"Is there something you want from this auction?" Cyr asked curiously.

"Yep. Look—" Neon pulled out an auction catalog, pointing at one of the listings.

"Scarlet Eyes. One of the Seven Most Beautiful Wonders in the world. I want to see if they're really as stunning as people say…"

She glanced up at Cyr. "But honestly, even in the pictures, I think your eyes are prettier."

"Even in real life, mine look better," the white-haired boy said, tapping the corner of his own eye. His tone carried a hint of smugness. "There's no way anyone in this world has more beautiful eyes than me."

Cyr suddenly had an idea. "Since we're all together… why don't you do a reading for everyone, Neon?"

Neon couldn't predict her own fate, but through others, she could get a general idea of what was going to happen.

"Everyone?" Nion blinked, but there was no sign of annoyance on her face.

"For example… your new bodyguards." Cyr gestured toward them one by one.

One of them—a woman—stiffened the moment she saw the white-haired boy, instinctively stepping back, half-hiding behind her teammates.

"What's wrong, Fei? Do you know that guy?" one of the guards asked.

Fei didn't respond, her smile forced.

Know him? I almost got killed by him.

"That kid has a… temper." She warned her colleagues.

Then, lighting a cigarette, she exhaled and muttered, "The White-Haired Bounty Devil."

"…You mean that Bounty Devil?!" Another guard's voice dropped to a whisper in disbelief.

For contract hunters like them—mercenaries hired by the mafia to do illegal jobs—bounty hunters were like law enforcement to criminals.

Didn't matter how strong they were—just being near one was enough to make them nervous.

As if, at any moment, they'd be captured and turned in for their own bounties.

"…And now he's asking our lady to predict our future?"

"A precious ability like that… would she really use it on us?"

The bodyguards whispered among themselves.

Dazollene was also surprised. Their boss treated Neon's ability as priceless—they, the "tools", weren't even worthy of her predictions.

That's why their boss forbade her from attending the auction but ordered them to go, risking their lives to bid for the items she wanted.

In other words… they were disposable.

Bodyguards could always be replaced.

But a seer like Neon? Irreplaceable.

"They want a reading?" Neon sighed. "Ugh, I kinda don't feel like working… but since you're the one asking, Cyr, I guess I have no choice…"

With a reluctant expression, she pulled out a pen and paper from her bag.

"Write your full names and birthdates on these," she said, passing out paper slips.

"…She's really doing it?" The guards exchanged shocked glances.

Neon turned back to Cyr with bright eyes. "Do you want one too?"

Cyr smiled lazily. "No thanks. I like the uncertainty of life."

"Oh! Same here! That's why I never read my own fortune!" Nion beamed, as if she'd found a kindred spirit.

Dalzollene stared at his own blank paper, his eyelid twitching.

This was the first time Neon had ever predicted his future.

Even their boss had to use rare treasures to bribe her into working.

But this white-haired boy?

With just one sentence, he got her to do it willingly.

And not only that—she even offered him one.

Dalzollene knew it was the wrong time for this thought, and he should probably be grateful…

But for some reason, all he felt was a headache.

His gaze toward Cyr became… complicated.

°°°

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