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The concrete walls of the Phantom Troupe’s hideout seem to close in around you as you’re led inside.
This wasn’t good.
Your heart pounds and flutters in your chest, so hard that it hurts. ‘Wrong place, wrong time’ was an understatement. You weren’t a spy, you weren’t doing anything wrong— You had just happened to be in the area, late at night. But of course, none of Chrollo’s subordinates had seen it that way.
You wince as you’re shoved to the ground, on your knees in front of a man only illuminated by the dim flicker of candles. The dark-clothed figures that had dragged you in disappear as quickly as they’d descended upon you, and your stomach flips as silence settles into the room.
It was only you and him.
His voice comes, low and even as he turns to you. You can hardly make out his face until he steps down and the moonlight catches on his angular features.
“Care to explain yourself?”
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