Phantom Troupe Holiday: The Leader and Machi's Complicated Love Affair - Underground Auction Infiltration — The Lie of Being Lovers and Hearts That Pass Each Other By

The air was cold. With every step down the stairs to the underground, the temperature dropped. Only the emergency lights embedded at regular intervals in the walls cast a faint orange glow. The clamor of the outside world felt impossibly distant, as if it were a lie. The only thing audible was the sound of their own footsteps. Chrollo Lucilfer toyed with the forged Elder Council membership card between his fingertips as he led the way down in silence. From the collar of his black shirt, the area around his collarbone rose into the dim light. His eyes faced straight ahead. But more than half his awareness was fixed on the presence of Machi behind him. (...Close.) Machi was walking right behind him. He could faintly hear her breathing. The rustle of her shirt. The occasional sway of pink hair. All of it registered with peculiar clarity. (It's just the two of us.) This was different from yesterday's reconnaissance at Skyline Tower. Back then, there had been people around. But now, on this dim staircase, there was no one but him and Machi. The world closed in as they descended. A strange illusion—as if the two of them had been left behind in this space alone. Chrollo licked his lips without thinking. (Calm down. This is a mission.) He repeated it in his mind. Already, the floor plan of the Grand Auction Hall was unfolding behind his eyes. The black-market district sprawling through the underground levels. The illegal auction venue at its heart. Entry required a membership card issued by the Elder Council, and security numbered thirty, including Nen users. A hundred armed guards. Escape routes were limited. (Guard shift changes. The passage to the vault. The location of the emergency exits.) He lined up the items to confirm in his head. He had to focus on the mission. As the leader, he couldn't afford to put his comrades in danger. —And yet. (I can't get the sight of Machi in civilian clothes out of my head.) Today Machi wore a light gray shirt paired with black pants that looked easy to move in. Yesterday's beige shirt had been nice too, but today's outfit showed off the lines of her slender body beautifully. Her long pink hair was pulled back in a ponytail today, leaving the pale nape of her neck exposed. (...She's beautiful.) He thought it. Of course, he didn't say it. Didn't let it show on his face. Such feelings were unbecoming of a leader. He knew that perfectly well—and yet his heart had been pounding obnoxiously loud for a while now. "...Hey." Machi's voice came from behind. Low, restrained. He could tell she was being careful not to let it echo underground. "What is it?" Chrollo answered without turning around. His voice came out a little stiff. "Security's thinner than I expected. The closer we get to the underground, the fewer there are." "Yeah. Unlike Skyline Tower above ground, the underground is Elder Council territory. They're probably more wary of traitors than outside threats." "I see. ...As expected of the leader. You notice everything." At those words, something deep in Chrollo's chest warmed, just slightly. (...As expected, huh.) Being praised by Machi always made him happy. But he couldn't let it show. Chrollo deliberately answered in a cold voice. "Naturally. You keep your wits about you and watch your surroundings too." "...I know that." Machi's voice sharpened, just a little. Chrollo clicked his tongue inwardly. (No. That's not it.) What he really wanted was to talk more normally. To say something like, Your eye for detail is sharp. Or, That outfit suits you. But those words just wouldn't come out. The moment he said them, he felt like his feelings would spill over—and that terrified him. A heavy silence fell between them. The stairs ended. The underground corridor was wider than he'd imagined. The ceiling was high, the walls covered in black stone. Here and there, signs of suspicious shops glowed. An illegal casino, a drug den, a human-trafficking market. The hidden face of the city lay bare. "...Still a filthy place, as always." Machi said it, wrinkling her nose. The corridor smelled of something cloyingly sweet mixed with something rusted. "Don't complain. This is a mission." "At least let me complain a little." Machi gave a small laugh. In the dark corridor, that smile looked for a moment like a flower blooming. Chrollo looked away. (...Don't smile.) His heart skipped again. This was a problem. A real problem. They were in the middle of a mission, and yet in some corner of his mind, Machi's smile kept flickering. "...Let's go." Chrollo started walking. Machi followed behind. The entrance to the Grand Auction Hall was at the far end of the underground corridor. A heavy iron door. Two men in black suits stood before it. Elder Council private soldiers. They had guns at their hips. Chrollo produced his forged membership card. Machi did the same. "...Enjoy your evening." One of the soldiers checked the cards and opened the heavy door. Inside was dim. The walls were covered in deep crimson velvet. Countless chandeliers hung from the ceiling. But their light was weak, all of it. As if the entire place were hiding from something, refusing the light. "...So this is the Grand Auction Hall." Machi let out a voice that sounded impressed. "Capacity of five hundred. An auction venue specializing in illegal goods. Separate from Skyline Tower above ground, it's run directly by the Elder Council." "Huh... You really did your homework." "Of course. I'm the leader." Chrollo answered flatly. But inside, he was glad he'd been able to explain it to Machi. When she was impressed, his heart raced like a child's. (...What am I, an idiot?) Chrollo scolded himself inwardly. The venue was a wide open floor. A large stage in the center. Audience seating surrounded it. Along the walls stood a row of private rooms. VIP rooms, no doubt. "Guard placement: two at the entrance. Four around the stage. Two in front of the VIP rooms. And three on the second-floor balcony... roughly as expected." Chrollo mapped the guard positions in his head. "Shift changes?" "Probably every hour. Judging by the position of that wall clock, the next change is... twenty-three hundred." "The vault?" "Behind the stage. Beyond that red curtain is a staircase leading further down. The vault is below that." "Emergency exits?" "Three. The front, and along the left and right walls. Though the front exit is most likely locked from the outside. In practice, only two are usable." Chrollo answered without hesitation. Machi gave a small nod beside him. "...As expected." "You're keeping up well yourself." Chrollo managed to force out the words he truly meant. Machi looked at him, surprised. "...You actually give compliments once in a while." "...Shut up." Chrollo turned his face away. His ears were a little hot. (...Embarrassing.) He was pathetic, getting flustered over something like this. That was when it happened. "Excuse me, sir, might I have a moment?" A guard stood in front of Machi. A black uniform, an earpiece in his ear. A square-faced man who looked exactly like what a guard should look like. "...What is it?" Machi answered in a cold voice. "Forgive me, but it seemed you had separated from your companion. I wanted to ask if you were having any trouble." The guard's eyes crawled slowly from Machi's face down her body. Chrollo noticed that the gaze was unmistakably that of a man sizing up merchandise. (...You.) Something black coiled in the depths of Chrollo's chest. "No, I'm not having any trouble. Thank you." Machi declined politely but firmly. "I see. ...Then, if I may, might I ask your name?" The guard took a step closer to Machi. His hand reached toward her shoulder. —In that instant. Chrollo's body moved on its own. "Hey." A low voice. Chrollo grabbed Machi's wrist, cutting off the guard's hand, and pulled her toward him. "...What are you doing. Don't wander off." He said it in a cold voice. Machi's eyes went wide with surprise. "W-what the—" Machi protested weakly. But Chrollo ignored her and turned to the guard. "...She's my lover. She'd just gotten separated from me. There's no problem." Chrollo's voice was calm—calmer than even he had expected. (...What am I saying?) Inside, he was in a panic. Lover. He had just called Machi his "lover." For the mission. To throw off the guard. Yes, his head understood that. —But. The moment the word left his mouth, something deep in his chest grew hot. "...Ah, I see. My apologies." The guard stepped back, as if cowed by Chrollo's sharp gaze. Then he gave Machi a slight bow and left. Silence. Chrollo stood frozen, still holding Machi's wrist. (...I have to let go.) His head knew that. But his fingers wouldn't obey. Machi's wrist was slender and warm, slightly damp with sweat. "...Hey." Machi's voice was trembling. "...What." "Could you let go of my hand?" "...Yeah." Chrollo slowly opened his fingers. Machi pressed her wrist with her other hand. "...What did you mean by that just now?" Machi asked quietly, still looking down. Her ears were bright red. "...It was to throw off the guard. Nothing more." Chrollo said it coldly. (No. That's not true.) He screamed it inwardly. "Nothing more"—what a lie. But it was the only thing he could say. If he didn't say it, his true feelings would spill over. "...I see. Of course. It's a mission, after all." Machi's voice was terribly small. She didn't look up. Her pink hair hung down as if to hide her face. "...Yeah. It's a mission." Chrollo repeated it, as if convincing himself. An awkward silence flowed between them. —Then. From down the corridor came the sound of multiple footsteps. A guard patrol. "...They're coming." Machi raised her head. Her eyes had already returned to the usual, composed Machi. "Yeah. Hide." Chrollo pulled Machi by the hand and dashed into a nearby storage area. The storage area was cramped. A gap between stacked wooden crates and cleaning supplies. Barely enough space for two adults to hide. "...It's tight." Machi said, troubled. "Bear with it." Chrollo pressed Machi against the wall and covered her with his body. Her back hit the wall. His hands pressed against the wall on either side of her head. —Close. The distance between their faces was less than four inches. Machi's breath brushed against his neck. There was a sweet scent. Her shampoo, perhaps. Or her own scent. (...This is bad.) Chrollo's heart went wild. Pounding, obnoxiously loud. At this distance, she might be able to hear it. (Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.) He repeated it over and over in his mind. But his body wouldn't obey. Machi's warmth was right there. He could hear her heartbeat too. —Thump. Thump. Thump. Machi's heart was racing just as fast as his. (...Machi's nervous too.) Of course she was. Pinned against a wall by a man in a cramped space like this. She couldn't not be nervous. (...Or maybe.) A thought crossed Chrollo's mind. (...Maybe, like me, she's conscious of it?) —Idiot. Chrollo mentally punched himself. "...Leader." Machi called him in a voice that seemed about to vanish. "...What." Chrollo's voice was hoarse too. "...I can hear your heartbeat." "...So can I. Yours." "...How annoying." "...Yours is louder." The two of them stayed frozen, listening to each other's hearts, unable to move an inch. (...I wish time would just stop like this.) Chrollo thought it from the bottom of his heart. Even though they were on a mission. Even though guards were walking right nearby. He wished this moment would last forever. —But. "...Don't get in my way." What came out of Chrollo's mouth was that. A cold, pushing-away voice. Machi's body gave a small jolt. "...What's that supposed to mean?" Machi's voice was shaking. Whether from anger or sadness, even she probably didn't know. "...Don't get in my way. I can't focu

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Episode 3

Name: Phantom Troupe Holiday: The Leader and Machi's Complicated Love Affair
Author: Novelia

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