The candy laced with aura lay quiet in the little girl's palm…
Her smile was so sweet no normal person would refuse.
But Gotoh is no "normal person." He got back in time and did his job—he stepped in front of the "blade."
"Onii-san's got a toothache—he can't eat sweets. Thank you, sweetheart."
"Really?" The girl tilted her head at Roy. He smiled and nodded.
Her mother, a gentle sort, tugged her hand. "Ena, don't bother the gentlemen."
She gave Roy and Gotoh a polite, apologetic smile.
Roy and Gotoh traded a breath of relief—but it froze in their throats.
The clownish staffer was coming their way…
A flock of kids surrounded him. He sprinkled candy as he went. To the untrained eye it looked like a disgruntled employee dumping stock. Seated travelers each got a piece. Soon he reached Roy and Gotoh.
"Candy—chocolate—so good—have one…" A corpse-white hand extended.
Red nose, painted grin stretched to his ears, the clown beamed at Roy—sweeter than the little girl. Roy's gaze slid past him to the tall figures by the doors.
Why haven't the Association moved?
Did they miss the candy?
Impossible.
If they're Nen users, they'd see aura on it. So why watch people swallow it? Likely to avoid a panic that the "Clown" could slip through.
But are ordinary lives expendable?
Without an Exorcist, you can't easily scrub aura off candy. Or do they trust they can kill him in one shot before he triggers his Hatsu?
Roy's mind raced; he refused with a straight face. "Sorry—congenital diabetes. No sweets."
"Ohh, poor thing—good thing Uncle's got sugar-free." The clown plucked a "sugar-free" candy from his pocket and offered it.
"…"
Roy shook his head. "Sugar-free still has additives."
"Pure natural—no additives, safe to eat." The clown's grin widened.
"No additives means no taste—bad."
"Don't worry—tastes great—go on."
"He said he's not eating!" Gotoh surged to his feet, a wall between them.
"Whoa there…" The clown "startled," hands up, two steps back—the candies in his pocket spilled and children dove for them.
"Beep… beep… Attention passengers: flight K3284 to Heavens Arena is now boarding.
"Please proceed to gate G4…"
The airport PA crackled; the crowd surged and swallowed the "Clown."
Pressed backward, he looked at Roy with blood-red eyes, then, seeing the watchers by the doors move, flicked his hand—candies glittered into the air. The crowd surged for them. In the chaos he slipped into the flow and vanished.
"He boarded the airship," Gotoh murmured. As he stood he dropped Zetsu for Gyo. "Good thing you had me rebook earlier."
Foresight? Roy watched the Association shove through and give chase and said nothing, deep in thought.
The little girl toddled back with more candy, munching happily. "Mama, I think Onii-san's on the same flight as us?"
Her mother gave Gotoh a strained smile.
His answer was a cold glance—and silence.
Half an hour later, K3284 took "Clown" and his pursuers into the sky.
The roar of engines rattled the glass; Roy stared out the window, a chill rising.
Clearly the Association and PSB were willing to kidnap a whole planeload of civilians to corner the "Clown." Up there there's nowhere to run; if the arrest failed, gravity would finish it. And a ship of passengers? Collateral.
"In my early years with the master, I saw the Association's darkness," Gotoh said softly, reading Roy's face. "Many of them aren't about 'justice.' Like us, they take jobs for money.
"It's just—Master and Old Master still hold ordinary people in some regard.
"They…" Gotoh's smile turned thin. "When they go extreme, they stop looking like people."
Governments or corporations hire the Association; the Association subcontracts to hunters. Whether a job succeeds or fails, the Association pays hazard-based fees.
In other words: state will sits atop the Association.
"Maybe Mimbo's top brass, red-faced, cut a deal with Padokea under the table…" Roy thought of Netero's old shadow—Jed—who'd done plenty of black work; no wonder his lingering hatred remained after death.
"Are you two talking?" the girl chirped, eyeing their lips. Silent lip-speech had hooked her curiosity.
"Ena, I said don't bother them."
"It's fine." Roy smiled as the woman tugged the pigtail. His eyes paused on the candy in her mouth—hoping the Association could do its job before a bright life went dark.
3:20 p.m. The airport PA announced boarding for K3285.
At last, Gotoh stood and followed Roy toward the gate.
By chance, their new seats faced the mother and child.
"After the rebook, the VIP cabin wasn't available—sorry to make you rough it."
"Tea, pastries, and familiar faces—nothing rough about it."
"Yes, brother—these snacks aren't sweet and have no additives—you can eat them~" The girl beamed, grin to her ears.
Roy and Gotoh jolted—cold metal pressed to their skulls.
"Don't move!"