Killer in Hunter x Hunter

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***

The city of Yorkshin.

It's almost nightfall. The city streets were mostly lit by artificial light, but the starry sky was also of some use, along with the new moon over the city.

A taxi was driving along the city streets at the maximum speed allowed; in the back, passenger seat, was an elderly man with short grey hair, and an equally grey but bushy moustache. He was a local detective who had been unexpectedly called to a case at this late hour. And he was obviously not very happy about it.

- Damn them! - he muttered quietly to himself. - Couldn't they have put it off for later? I was just about to relax and watch TV, and here it was... a call. What happened there this time? What's the crime now?

- We're here,' the taxi driver announced.

After paying the driver, the detective took out a cigarette and lit it, then looked at the church he had come to. There were several police cars and a dozen or so police officers who had cordoned off the entrance to the church with yellow tape and were trying to keep out the journalists and the small crowd of onlookers.

- Hmm, murder in a church I suppose. It's really not something you see very often.

As he got closer, he was immediately spotted by one of the police officers and promptly let him through the fence.

- Come in, sir,' said the young chap, as he ushered the detective inside. - We've been expecting you.

- What the hell happened in there? Couldn't you sort it out yourself? Calling me in for a stabbing, even in a church, is a bit of a shame, to be honest.

- I'm afraid, sir, it's not business as usual this time.

- What do you mean? What's so unusual?

- You'll see for yourself.

The two men went inside the church. It was large, with stone columns, and everything would have been as it should have been, except that everything else was a complete mess. The wooden benches were scattered in every direction, the altar had been destroyed, and somewhere on the walls there were small dents, as if something weighty had been thrown at them. But what stood out the most was a corpse covered in a white cloth, lying right in the middle of the room, with a few small pools of blood beside it.

- What the fuck happened here? - The detective asked, looking around. - It looks like a tank went through here.

- I'm afraid a tank can't do that,' the policeman pointed upwards.

When the detective looked up at the ceiling, his cigarette fell out of his mouth. There were several small pools of blood right on the ceiling that weren't even going to run down. On the contrary, they seemed to be flying upwards, gradually flowing to the highest point on the ceiling. And, in addition to the bloodstains, there were also several benches on the ceiling. They weren't nailed, pinned, or simply stuck - they stood on the ceiling as naturally as if they were on the floor.

- Holy shit...' the detective said with his mouth half-open, looking at it all. - What the hell happened here?

- You haven't seen a dead body yet.

- A corpse? What about him?

- Here you go.

The policeman and the detective approached the corpse and removed the white cloth.

- Fucking hell! - The detective cursed loudly, gagging when he saw what was under the cloth. - What is this... Who did this to him? His limbs... and torso... it was like they'd been turned inside out.

- I know what you mean. The first time I saw it, I barely had time to run outside before I got my vomit all over the place.

- But how the hell? Who would do such a thing? It's not normal for a person to be turned inside out like that and furniture on the ceiling like it's supposed to be.

- That's why we called you down here. We can't do it without your help.

- Without my help... - the detective took out and lit a new cigarette. He looked around the room, trying not to stare at the mutilated corpse. After being silent for about ten seconds, he spoke again. - Any luck identifying who it was?

- No. He's not even in the database.

- So that's how... - suddenly a realisation dawned on the detective. - That's it! It all makes sense now!

- What?! What do you realise?

- Well, think about it: such an unusual death, unusual circumstances, the absence of this guy from the database... it all leads to one thing.

- Wait a minute! You're saying 'they' did it? Them?

- Yeah, there's no other way to put it. There's no way a normal person could do this kind of murder. It was one of them. The Passione.

- Oh, boy.

- The world's most notorious criminal organisation. Came out of the blue about a year ago. Started a war with other Mafia groups, wiped them all out and took over. In terms of influence, they're comparable to the Hunter's Association. In fact, the world is now ruled only by this mafia organisation, and the rest are just like that... trash that was allowed to exist. And a lot of people say that this organisation employs people with some pretty extraordinary abilities.

- So, what, we're supposed to make a case against someone from Passione?

- Yeah, of course we are! Don't be daft, lad. It doesn't make any sense. Even if we make a case, it'll mysteriously disappear anyway. All the evidence will disappear, and it'll still be closed. So it's better to close it now.

- Wait, but what about the law? What about justice? Something has to be done; you can't just turn a blind eye.

- Eh, little man, little man... - with a smirk on his face, the detective patted the policeman's shoulder. - It's no use. Even if you decide to sort it out yourself, you won't live long. You're a bug compared to them, just like the rest of us. Anyway, you do what you want, but I'm not getting involved. You're still young, and I've got a year left before I retire, and I want to do it in peace. So I'm sorry.

With his cigarette more than half finished, the detective headed for the exit of the church, and the policeman followed him with a slightly sad look.

- You know, kid,' said the detective, taking out another cigarette. - I had a fortune-teller tell me the day before yesterday that I was going to die. That I'd move.

- So?

- What else could it be? I arrested her for fraud. And I don't believe in all that bullshit about fate and inevitability and shit. It's bullshit.

- Well, as you know... Shall I call you a taxi or take you home in the company car?

- No, thanks, I want to walk. Take care, kid.

The detective slowly made his way through the dark streets to his home.

***

What is fate? Something a man can control and mould as he pleases? Or is it an unchangeable predetermination that rules us all and has already decided everything for us? As bitter as it may be, only the second option is true.

So the detective who was predicted to die soon didn't believe it, but even if he had, it wouldn't have made any difference. As he was driving home from church, he was hit to death by a lorry. And even if he could have dodged it in time, he would have died anyway. He could have died from the thugs round the corner, from a brick falling on his head, or even from the trivial rubbish under his feet, which he would have tripped over, fallen over and broken his neck. There was no way to avoid it.

No one can escape their destiny.

But what if someone dares to do so? Try to change his fate. What would he do? What path would he take? And most importantly - how far would he be willing to go to do it?