Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
"The hotel is being attacked! Please remain calm within your rooms, until the situation is dealt with-!" A panicky, muffled female voice instructed, through the speakers on the walls.
Bang!
Kurapika tensed, at the sound of gunshots in the background. The familiar sound of the hotel block being raided.
This wasn't the first time Kurapika and the other new bodyguards experienced a raid. The boss, Neon Nostrade seemed to be quite a valuable 'tool' in the underground world, especially to her father - hence why he hired so many bodyguards for her.
"What in the bloody hell is going on?!" The hoarse voice of Light Nostrade could be heard, bouncing around the walls from inside the room Kurapika was to be guarding. "Can't we get one week's worth of quiet without Neon being attacked?"
Neon, a girl of sixteen, happened to be Kurapika's boss and the girl that he was recently assigned by her father Light, to bodyguard, along with a couple few others. He didn't really take notice of the other bodyguards much, for they weren't of his interest, nor his priority.
There was one though, who's eyes he could constantly feel on his back.
Melody.
Again, as Kurapika's eyes narrowed at the sounds downstairs, he could feel her eyes boring into his back.
Reading his every emotion.
Hearing every thought.
"The rest of you guard the boss' room. I'll take care of this." Kurapika's stern voice, rose, before he took off, skidding across the marble floors on his periwinkle flats, leaving the other guards alone. He reached the main staircase, where the mafia attackers could be heard struggling, and choking out for air.
Kurapika froze in confusion.
Did someone get there before he did?
There was a silence, before a huge bulk of a man roared helplessly past Kurapika's right ear, slamming into the wall behind him, before sliding down, unconscious.
"Boss!" A man's voice cried out, in concern.
"Shush, old guy, I have a headache." A deeper voice hushed the man, tutting in mock seriousness. "Jeez, I come here seeking a job and look at the mess I already have to clean up! Seriously, where are all the hotel people?"
Kurapika made his way downstairs, cautiously, stopping midway. Expecting something slightly different, the blonde boy was shocked with what he found.
The lounge was a mess. The couches were flipped over on their sides, no longer intact, hundreds of bullet holes visible. The wallpaper had teared, on one side of the room, revealing the red brick wall beneath it. Around five and twenty men were sprawled helplessly on the ground, like toys.
