Two Graves

Epilogue

The dusky fabric of the couch made a satisfying scrunching noise beneath his elbows as Kurapika leaned back leisurely. Without opening his eyes, the Kurta took a deep sip from the cold glass in his hand; the smoky whisky burned down his throat, nearly letting a content sigh spill over his lips.

A sudden yelp let Kurapika lift his eyelids halfway. One cold glare was all it took for the trembling man before him to clamp his lips shut, but Kurapika's mood was already ruined.

"Speak."

The man started talking, his voice pitched a few octaves too high, the words merging and tripping over each other. Sweat trickled down his pointy face like he was a human fountain; he was blabbering as if his life depended on it.

Well, his life did depend on it.

If Kurapika hadn't been in such a jovial mood earlier, the man's tongue wouldn't be tripping over words at all. There wouldn't be enough space because the man's mouth would be filled with dirt.

"Please sir, I can give you everything you want! I have money, multiple properties!"

Kurapika had heard quite enough. He cut the man off with one lazy flick of his hand, his rings flashing in the flickering light that the chimney behind the man was casting.

With deliberate slowness, Kurapika entangled his crossed legs and rose, fixing his gaze fully on the man. The Kurta was taller, thanks to the large leather boots he was wearing, but his presence alone would've been enough to make even giants seem small in comparison.

Lazily, he took two pairs of black gloves from the front pockets of his leather jacket and slipped them over his hands. He didn't want to get them filthy.

"I've been informed that you were responsible for human trafficking in Meteor city. How many women and children did you sell?"

The man didn't respond, his throat seemed to be completely clogged by fear. Shizuku chimed in cheerfully from the far end of the room in his stead: "About thirty!"

Kurapika couldn't help but crack a small smile at her surprisingly accurate guess. Her memory was getting better day by day. Kurapika suspected the sessions she spent with Machu did the trick, but others said that it was just a phase.

"You're right. Thirty-two. How many bones are in a human body?"

"206." Machi was leaning against Shizuku, reading a book with that disinterested face of hers. The white smock of her new part-time job was draped over her backrest.

"206, huh? I could break six of your bones for every human you sold and still have fourteen left."

Machi shook her head: "You might want to subtract 33. Since this individual doesn't seem to have a spine."

The Spiders sitting scattered around the room uttered a simultaneous 'damn' and Kurapika let a grin spread over his face: "He certainly won't have one after I'm done with him."

"Uhm, boss."

The mood shifted in an instant, Kurapika's grin turning into a scowl: "I told you not to call me that!"

Nobunaga flinched slightly. Kurapika had made it very clear to the Spiders how much he detested the title 'boss', but it kept slipping out of their mouths anyway.

"Sorry!" Nobunaga pointed at the trafficker with one bony finger. "But he fainted."

Kurapika looked down at the unconscious man, now marring his spotless floor. The Kurta wrinkled his nose in disgust: "Feitan, you can handle the rest. Someone please clean the floor afterwards."