If the Monroe family—one of the Ten Elders—were to be annihilated, the EXP gained would surpass Vega's wildest dreams.
But he quickly dismissed the thought. At his current level, killing even a single Nen-user was a struggle—let alone taking down an entire faction like the Monroes.
How could a family capable of deploying someone like Michelle—a skilled Nen-wielder—be so easily destroyed? They were one of the Ten Elders, masters of the Shadow Beast, and rulers of the underworld.
Yet, the fact that the Phantom Troupe had once wiped out several Elders gave him pause.
"If a band of thieves could do it, why can't I?" Vega muttered, shaking his head as strategies whirled in his mind.
"First, I need to grow stronger before challenging them again."
He set a new goal: Eliminate the Monroe family—one of the Ten Elders.
A dry chuckle escaped him.
"Hah."
Right now, outright victory wasn't the issue—it was surviving their retaliation and the fallout from Nacro's City Council.
Today's battle had been the bloodiest in Nacro's history, with a death toll in the thousands. Vega alone had slaughtered nearly a thousand Shelby family members.
This carnage would make the city's elites think twice before crossing him. But he knew their fear wouldn't last.
If he didn't offer concessions, Nacro's parliament would mark him for death.
Officially, the government couldn't interfere in underworld affairs—but politicians could pull strings behind the scenes. When the Ten Elders struck back, they might even ally with them, complicating Vega's position.
Better to bribe the loudest mouths now, then enforce compliance with strength.
Still, some would grow greedy. Vega's eyes turned icy. Let them try. They'd learn the price of ambition—in blood.
For now, his priority was consolidating power. He needed to regroup the Pengellet survivors and tighten his grip on Nacro.
The city, with its millions, was his foundation. But today's victory relied too heavily on the Black Shadow Mask—now depleted, with 90% of its summoned warriors on cooldown.
Worse, his own Nen reserves were pitifully low. Without them, even a coward might attempt an assassination.
Solution? Upgrade his gear.
With 700 EXP, he could enhance a weapon. The mask was tempting, but it wouldn't bolster his personal combat power. Against a foe who could bypass his summons, he'd be defenseless.
Instead, Vega chose "Crimson Pupil's Severance"—an imperial-grade armor that boosted defense and came with a subsidiary weapon: the "Vermilion Shrieker," capable of phased invisibility.
Perfect balance: offense, defense, and escape.
Decision made, Vega stood amid the Shelby ruins and raised his hands.
Nen surged as the spectral armor materialized—a blade first, its edge humming with grim purpose.