As the sky-high dirt and dust gradually settled, nothing remained within a hundred-meter radius of the explosion's epicenter, leaving behind only a ten-meter deep, semicircular crater and countless destroyed underground facilities. In several spots, jets of water were even spurting out, unclear whether they were groundwater or mains water from ruptured pipes.
The only silver lining was that the Mafia had cleared out all surrounding residents and businesses beforehand to fight the Phantom Troupe without restraint, preventing any civilian casualties. Only a few dozen Mafia members who were lying in ambush nearby were instantly blasted sky-high; their bodies were likely untraceable now.
Most importantly, after unleashing that terrifying, oversized fireball and taking sufficient damage, the Molten Giant finally exhausted the aura maintaining its existence. Its massive body rapidly dissolved and broke apart, scattering into a pile of black rubble where it stood.
Seeing this, Allen immediately let out a sigh of relief and muttered to himself: "That's a relief; it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."
"You call this a relief?!" Baise stared at the dreadful scene ahead, like a battlefield wiped clean by heavy artillery and aerial bombing, her face a mask of shock and fear.
This wasn't some remote suburb; this was the commercial district of an international metropolis!
She could already imagine how tomorrow morning's news would sensationalize the incident, and the immense public pressure the government and the Hunter Association would face.
Allen shrugged calmly: "Trust me. If it had kept chasing those three Troupe members, the damage would have been far worse, and innocent civilians would have been dragged in. As it is now, only a few Mafia thugs died, and buildings within a hundred meters were destroyed. I can, at worst, pay for the economic losses myself."
Having learned this lesson, he now deeply understood the importance of never creating elemental puppets in densely populated areas. These constructs only knew battle, destruction, and chaos; they could not be controlled or reasoned with.
He could, of course, modify the rules of the Manipulation to make them easier to control. But the problem was that weakening their aggression would result in a straight-line drop in both deterrence and destructive power.
Take the Molten Giant just now: the moment it got a chance, it instantly unleashed its strongest ability, giving the opponents zero time to breathe, and directly took out three Troupe members, two of whom were standard combat members, in one go.
But if it hadn't immediately used that attack and instead just chased the three? It would have devolved into a drawn-out battle or a chase, failing to achieve the goal of eliminating the enemy as quickly as possible.
As the saying goes, you can't have your cake and eat it too; a choice must be made between precise control and efficient killing.
Just as Baise opened her mouth to say something more, the last two combat members of the Troupe, Feitan and Bonolenov, finally appeared. They first swept their eyes over the brutal scene, then immediately locked onto the only two survivors nearby, attempting to flank the two people and one wolf from the left and right.
Feitan, known for his vile temper and cruel methods, immediately threatened them: "Tell me what happened here just now? Otherwise, I will make you taste something far worse than death!"
Allen ruthlessly retorted: "Has anyone ever told you that you're repulsive, and your mouth smells like a cesspool? I truly don't understand how a third-rate cripple under one meter sixty has the face to live in this world. If I were you, I would have died of shame already, shorty!"
If you ranked all members of the Phantom Troupe on a "Most Disliked" list, Feitan would undoubtedly top it. The man lacked any positive emotion a normal human should possess, radiating naked, unconcealed killing intent, malice, and hatred. He was the quintessential anti-human, anti-social personality who absolutely deserved to be arrested and executed.
"Then go die!" Feitan was clearly enraged, and he vanished from his spot in a flash.
The next second... he appeared less than half a meter away from Allen, thrusting his hand-blade, coated in Ken, fiercely toward the vulnerable neck.
But just as it was about to connect, Allen raised his arm and, at a speed indistinguishable to the naked eye, grabbed the man's wrist, then activated Aura Burst, flinging the hateful guy far, far away.
Boom!
Predictably, Feitan flew straight up like a cannonball, soaring into the boundless sky, gradually shrinking into a black dot.
After finishing this, Allen finally turned his attention to Bonolenov, who was wrapped entirely in bandages, and announced in a toneless voice: "Ten seconds. You're finished."
"Battle Cantabile: Prologue!" The inarticulate Bonolenov clearly disliked small talk, immediately activating his ability to materialize his native clothing and a strangely shaped long spear, launching an attack.
"Too slow!" Allen dodged effortlessly with a flash, simultaneously hurling two high-speed rotating Thorium Arrowheads.
Bang! Bang!
Since his feet were off the ground, Bonolenov couldn't dodge at all and could only watch as the two arrowheads tore through his knees, his lower legs and feet snapping off and flying away.
Before he could even react, Lupos rushed in right behind and snapped his neck with a single bite.
Ultimately, the Gyudondond Tribe warrior never managed to unleash his most powerful technique, Jupiter, swallowing his last breath with bitter unwillingness.
Of course, even if he had, nothing would have changed. After all, that was merely something materialized by aura, and given Allen's absolute crushing superiority in aura capacity, he could simply punch anything like that into oblivion.
Furthermore, Jupiter is a standard gas giant. This means Bonolenov doesn't crush opponents using weight, but rather uses the centrifugal force and high-speed airflow generated by the rotation to squeeze the target into fragments.
As the Red Dragon finished turning the Troupe's Number 13 into a cocoon and swallowed it, Allen immediately looked up at the black dot growing larger overhead and instructed without turning his head: "Get ready. I need to use your ability next."
"Okay! No problem. I've been waiting." Baise subconsciously licked her sensual red lips, her eyes blazing with hatred.
She hadn't forgotten that this very short man, along with two other Troupe members, had wantonly slaughtered an entire room full of people at the auction house last night, including two of her own colleagues and partners. If possible, she wanted him to die a more painful death.
Simultaneously, the free-falling Feitan also witnessed how easily Bonolenov was killed, making him exceptionally furious. He immediately drew the long sword he carried, condensed all his aura into Ko at the tip, intending to use the acceleration of gravity to instantly cleave the enemy in two.
After a low-pitched sarcastic comment—"You get angry when you see your comrades killed? How unbelievable! I thought your heart and the blood running through your veins were black."—Allen once again put on the strangely designed Gnomish Mind Control Cap.
It was clear he intended to directly control the opponent, and then have Baise use her kiss to finalize the control.
As for why such a complicated method was necessary, it was because both the Gnomish Mind Control Cap and Black Voice could only execute the simplest, basic controls, and could not compel the controlled target to use their unique Nen ability.
But Instant Lover was different. It did not strip the target of their consciousness or control over their body. It merely amplified a certain latent desire, making them obedient to all commands given by the ability user, allowing them to still use their Nen ability as normal.
It was precisely for this reason that Allen invited Baise to join his team instead of anyone else.
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You can read the ahead chapter on Patr-eon if you're interested: p-atre-on.c-om/Overgod [Just remove the hyphen to access normally]