Soon after Kurpakia restricted Chrollo's nen, he finally resumes his main goal, to take back the crimson eyes of his fallen brethren, yet his mission comes to a halt when something unexpected happens, something that not even his scariest nightmares...
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The blonde tresses slightly blew past the shoulders of Kurapika, the soft breeze attempting to take them away as the blonde walked onwards, his arms holding a case of some sort.
As the breeze blew past, the soft brushing of the trees nearby added some music to the rhythmic steps of the blonde, his black loafers pattering against the slightly wet stone walkway.
His head was focused down as his matte grey eyes watched each of his feet hit the ground before him, causing him to walk forward much to his body's dismay.
He was sore, tired, and freshly irritated, this particular mission had caused more of a headache than what he had originally anticipated.
There were a few more people present than what was let on, despite this, however, the job was, of course, successful overall.
While focusing on his black loafers, the grey eyes of the Kurta took a quick glance at a colored spot that had dried itself on his shoe.
He took a mental note to wash it off later.
Upon reaching an ally, the blonde then takes a right turn, finally lifting his head from the view of the ground, his grey eyes guiding him to a descending set of stone steps, his lean form descending downwards before stopping before a wooden arched door hidden from the ground above.
Holding the case within his left arm, the blonde then takes his right hand to his neck before rummaging a bit before a key with a black string came unsheathed from under his collared shirt.
Wrapping his fingers around the said object, the blonde then brings the makeshift necklace over his head before he brings it to a keyhole that resides underneath the knob of the arched wooden door.
Upon entering and turning the key to the right, a small 'click' sounded before the pale hand of Kurapika turned the slightly rusted knob, opening the older wooden door.
Pushing the door open with his hand, the blonde then moves forward, the door automatically shutting once more behind him.
With the small steps of his loafers, the blonde then guides himself through the dark corridor, as he walks further, the candles that reside amongst the walls begin to flicker, igniting their own flickering flames, illuminating the corridor sufficiently.
