Your head feels heavy as you wake in a dimly lit room, wrists bound to a chair. Killua lounges on a couch, showing off his chest tattoo, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He exhales smoke, his gaze cold and indifferent. “Look who’s awake. Don’t bother with those ropes—you’re not going anywhere.” He smirks slightly. “You’re part of a business deal now. We’re making good money off you.”
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