Author's Note: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to @TheNadoraAwards and @pomalo_ for hosting a competition and choosing my work out of so many other talented writers to win this year's award for Action/Adventure!!

Please VOTE, VOTE, VOTE FOR THIS CHAPTER. This was definitely an unexpected twist in the story for me, but I hope ya'll like being inside Hisoka's brain for a bit and learning how he feels about Oby. I'll sporadically do some chapters from his POV moving forward. Next up, we'll get back to Ging n Oby and the next part of her mission! Suggestions? Comments? Leave them below. As always thanks for reading fam! xoxox

I can't believe Oby blew me off, and not in the good way. Now I have to fend for myself. Get rid of all this pent up energy. Luckily it's easy to find vice this time of night, some chaos for me to blend into. There's a sense of someone following me that I've had since leaving her house, but I can't pinpoint it no matter where I look. Like a ghost, no one's really there. Perhaps I'm just hypersensitized from the nen user who snuck up on Oby and I earlier. In a nearby bar in town I see a few low-brow miscreants sneak into a backroom. 

When I go in behind them, I discover there's a room full of drunken, rowdy men placing bets on some sweaty fighters in the middle, wrestling each other in mud. The room is set up like a dingy, out of date auditorium made of wood. It smells like it's had too many drinks and cigarettes and is in need of a shower...how I've missed this.

I look around to see who's collecting money for the bets to see if I can join in the fun. A short man with moss green eyes and a curly-cued ginger beard smokes a cigar as he counts out money. I squeeze through the audience to get to him. "Looking for another fighter tonight?" I ask. The little man looks up at me and jumps. I'm surprised he isn't more aware of his surroundings. 

He looks me up and down assessing my body. I grin and brace my muscles so he can see the fight in them. 20 minutes later, I'm in the pit with a bald, thickly mustached mountain of a man with a slash of mud across his hairy chest and blank, beady eyes. Our names are announced by the referee so everyone knows who to praise and boo. The man I'm up against is named Stone. He's about 6'7, a few inches taller than me,  not that it matters. I'll beat him eventually, but there's no rush. We can play around a little.

Mostly everyone bets on him because he's bigger. It feels strange to be the underdog for once. I wonder if this is how Oby feels when she goes up against men. I can see how it becomes annoying after a while. The crowd throws cheers, insults, and alcohol on us like we're dogs. I can tell this is the only time in most of their miserable lives that they feel powerful, that they live vicariously through these battles. I take off my shirt and stretch for a few moments.

"Kick his scrawny ass, Stone!"

"Who's that freak of nature?"

"Hisoka won't last more than a minute."

"That pretty face of his is gonna get shattered down there."

Stone cracks his neck, not bothering to even look at me. "I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you're puny."

How amusing. I take off my shirt and stand across from him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Stone moves like he has something to prove, but 10 years too late. Out of pity, I let him have the first punch. He's a non-nen user, so this'll just be a boxing match. His fists come towards my face, faster and harder than I expect. He actually manages to knock me off balance. Good for you, old man. I clap for him facetiously. 

He spits on the ground by my knee. "Get up and fight!" As I get up, Oby comes back to my mind. I've been thinking about her more lately, whether I want to or not. Her voice, her logic, her plans, her artistry, her food. How she forces me to be honest. How I can help her without any regard for myself. 

When she looks at me, it's not with disdain or fear like most people, but care. She won't just use me for ulterior motives. She wants to know who I am, but I can't tell her because I don't want to remember.

When is the fight going to distract me from these thoughts? Stone runs at me, but I roll off his back. Of course he turns around and goes for a few jabs. I block several of them and then smack him on the side of his head hard enough for his ears to ring. This takes him aback. Guess he wasn't expecting me to be fast either. 

He lunges at me, head-butting me in the gut and slamming me up against the wooden wall. The men above us scream for Stone now that he's "trapped" me. I elbow him hard in the back, likely cracking one or two of his vertebrae, but he won't feel it til the adrenaline wears off. When he goes down, I leap over him then delve a swift kick to his tailbone, pushing him head first into the wall.

The crowd boos at me and encourages Stone to get back up. I laugh at this exchange. Is this really their hero? The man they all want to be? Obviously heroes are overrated for their strengths and never seen for their weaknesses. That's why I like being the man everyone loves to hate. I'm feared because I'm unpredictable, my actions don't ride on how people feel about me because people don't matter. It's about the fight, the game for me. Everything else is expendable, and that's what truly scares them.

Stone gets up shakily, his vision's blurred a little from the knock on the head. I beckon him to come forward and fight me. His steps become more meditated as he approaches, fists up and guarding his face. I get ready to block his fist, but he fakes me out. Turning to my left side he punches me in the ribs. Yes, good. When I turn, he socks me in the chin, sending me back towards the ground. 

The men above knock their heels into the ground in excitement. Someone pours their drink on my face. I lick the liquid off my lips. Bourbon. It burns my eyes, but I like the feeling, how it wakes me up. I prefer things that are bitter and burn. Things I can hurt or that hurt me. They're easy to detach from and my life's been easier that way. 

But what Oby requires is too sweet and sticky. I can't stay in the present with her because she questions the past and makes me wonder about the future. Those kind of feelings are dangerous. She is dangerous. Why am I thinking about her again?

I hear Stone chuckle in front of me. "Not so smooth now, are you?" He kicks my stomach with his heel, sending the air out of my body. As I heave he picks me up by the neck and lifts me, his conquest for everyone to see. He stares at me like a hunter who's about to kill his prey. Yes, yes, yes. I'm starting to get turned on now. 

The feeling of him squeezing the life out of me curls my toes. Enjoy this moment, Stone, you've earned it, but it will be your last. I look up at the lights shining down on us, the faces of the audience, growling, fangs bare, like rabid animals. I get excited just watching them. The pain is gratifying; it sends electricity through my entire body. 

I wish Oby could've done this to me, it'd be a thousand times better, but for now I must settle for the pot-bellied man in front of me. Out of the grimy faces I suddenly see a familiar pair of blue doe eyes and messy pink hair. Machi. What a pleasant surprise. I didn't know she was into these rough and tumble places. But I'm happy she's here to see me win.

I swing my legs to gain momentum and then flip up and over into the air, knocking Stone to the ground with my knee. I feel his blood splatter on my pants. Some of his teeth fly out. When I get on my feet, so does he. He's pissed off now. Veins pop out of his neck, his eyes strain in fury. His rage is blind, strong but not thinking clearly. 

He jumps up and raises his fists to pummel me into the ground. I do like brute strength, but it's not as fun without intelligence, so I'll make quick work of this. I jump out of the way right before he hits the ground, then run forward and deliver cross jabs to his face and neck. He tries to hit blindly, but I block and deliver a body shot before kicking him across the room and through a wall.

The fight is over and the audience goes silent. "I appreciate the effort," I say to his limp body as I grab my shirt. My body's splattered with mud so I just throw it over my shoulder. When I jump out of the pit, I grab a towel on the sidelines and clean myself off. Everyone flinches away from me like I'm about to attack them. I might be a lot of things, but a bully's not one of them.

I find the short, ginger bearded man. He shakes as I take my cut of the money from his pocket then hand back the rest. I see a man with a bottle of bourbon and hand him a bill in exchange for it before I leave. I can feel Machi's gaze on me. She's the only one in the room who isn't afraid.

*

I go outside to the alley and take a drink, feel its burn through my body. It soothes my bruises, but not my lust. The fight took some of the edge off, but I still want more. If I were with Oby, she would've ridden me into the sunset and put me to sleep by now. I put down the bottle, put my shirt back on, then take out a cigarette and light it. 

I've been trying to quit for months, but it's one of the only things that keeps my bloodlust under control. I'm curious since Machi saw me if we'll hook up tonight. Maybe that'll help calm me down. As soon as I finish the thought, I look over and see her approaching. Speak of the devil. I take in her petite figure. She's wearing her trademark black cycling shorts, a kimono jacket, and leg warmers. I wouldn't mind ravaging her tonight.

"Fancy seeing you here," I say.

She shrugs. "Guess we both have strange tastes."

I flick ashes from the cigarette. "I'm surprised you're not with the rest of the spiders."

She leans against the wall next to me. "I needed a break. To unwind a little."

My arm touches hers as I look in her eyes. "Do you want some help unwinding?"

She takes the cigarette from my hand and takes a few puffs. "Just because we've been fooling around the last couple of months doesn't I mean like you."

I chuckle and fold my arms. "Then all is right in the world."

"I can't believe you betrayed the troupe like that."

"I figured I wouldn't be missed when I left. But since you did," I lean in close to her, "aren't you glad I'm here now?"

She lightly pushes away from me. "Don't kid yourself. You're here for you, not for me, or the troupe. This is all about you wanting to fight the boss."

I shake my head. "I can't believe you all still call Chrollo that. Aren't you supposed to be friends?"

Machi scoffs. "Like you know what friendship is."

We're interrupted by a few shadows that approach us. The night hides them well, but I can tell they just came from the bar. They're all carrying weapons: bat, chains, knives, brass knuckles. There are about seven of them. I'm actually grateful they showed up. I could use some more fun. Stone stands behind them, smelling of blood and bruises. His pride is probably the only reason he's still standing. "You have something that belongs to me."

"Your dignity?" I ask.

"I don't care who you are or where you come from, that money belongs to me. I have a family at home to think about."

"You should've thought of that before you gambled your money away," Machi says before taking another puff of the cigarette.

"Look, bitch, this is between me and Hisoka! You better get out of here before you get roughed up too."

One of the shadow men speak. "I haven't gotten laid in a while so if you stay I'm gonna have to assume you want it as badly as I do."

Machi's eyes narrow in the direction of the voice. "Touch me and you'll pull back a nub."

I can't help but giggle at their trivial attempts of being machismo. "You lost fair and square, and I have no qualms about taking what's owed to me.

Stone growls. "Anyone with half a brain can tell you're a nen user, so what the hell are you doing picking on innocent bystanders."

I stare Stone down. On a good day he looks like the type that's killed at least 20 men. And as for his alleged family, I wouldn't be surprised if they served as punching bags on his bad days. I shrug. "Funny, I just thought I beat you on your own terms."

Machi rolls her eyes. "Enough! You're all starting to piss me off with this dick swinging match." She turns to look at the shadows. "Get out of here before I kill you all myself."

The men snicker at her like she's some puppy barking at their boots.

I take the cigarette from her and take a deep inhale. Hope this all counts as foreplay. One of them cracks his knuckles. "Fine, you asked for it."

Machi releases 3 needles from the pincushion on her wrist, scales the building and throws her threads one at a time around several necks, then jumps up to a clothesline and strings them up. The rest of the men approach me. I put my cigarette out in someone's eye while slipping a card between my fingers to decapitate them all. 

I didn't even get to hear them scream, but I've no interest in fighting cowards. I still enjoy killing them. Stone gets bug-eyed as he watches his comrades fall, heads first, bodies second. He makes a sad attempt to run away, but I throw several cards into his legs before he gets far. It's pitiful to listen to him whimper as he crumples to the ground. 

Taking out an adversary who fights to the end is one thing, but one who wallows in fear is just nauseating. I pick up the bourbon and slowly walk over to him.

"Have mercy, please," he blubbers, still attempting to crawl away. Does he have any idea how ridiculous he looks?

"You were warned. And besides, something tells me the world would be better off without you." Before he can say another word, I slit his throat and watch his blood splatter across the ground. 

 I love these moments: the sight of his blood, the weight of the corpses I leave in my wake, and of course a woman who can do the same. I wonder if Oby could handle seeing this side of me. Or if I'll ever have the privilege of seeing this side of her...

Machi jumps down and lets the rest of the men fall. She's never prettier than right after she murders someone. There's a slight sheen on her neck that I want to lick off.

"What?" she spits as she looks back at me.

I walk over to her, take a sip of the bourbon and kiss her, letting the liquid spill into her mouth, across her lips. Taking my chin between her fingers she kisses me back, bites my lip. One of her legs raises against mine and I squeeze her outer thigh. The tingly sensation I get from someone watching me returns, but when I look around no one's there. Maybe I'm really starting to lose my mind. I can usually sense someone watching me from a mile off, but I can't tell if this presence is real or in my head. For the time being I try to focus on the lips pressed against mine.

As much as Machi puts on the tough girl guise, I've discovered she likes being taken by me, that her disdain is really just a mask for her desire. Hmm, I guess the only thing better than hating me is screwing me. It's the perfect set up. 

I don't like women who like me. Not immediately at least. Their attraction tends to be as cheap as their bodies. They're too soft and vapid to grant me any real pleasure. But a hardened woman, one that's determined to break me before I break her, keeps things interesting. 

Machi pulls back after a few moments and pushes me away. "Let's get out of here, you smell like a pig's trough."

*

WARNING: SEX SCENE

Once we get to her hotel room, Machi has my clothes sent out to be washed. I shower first since she can't stand the smell of me any longer, then sit on the bed and watch her silhouette as she bathes. Her hair is in a messy bun and steam curves around her body. 

When she gets out, her skin is rouge pink, her nipples are about the shade of my bungee gum. She runs her towel along her palm-sized breasts and small waist. I'm reminded of a hummingbird when I look at her limbs, thin but shapely.

Her frame and big bright eyes could give the impression of frailty, of the need for protection, but the opposite is true. There's so much strength hidden in that core, enough to break bones and take whatever most men can throw at her. I wonder if she's ready to take me. 

The more I look at her, I can't help but compare her body to Oby's: the differences in size, color, taste, feel. What they'd look like together, touching each other, then me. The thought turns me on, builds tension in my body that I want to release. I uncover my erection and wait for Machi to see it; she giggles when she does and starts to walk toward me.

I raise my hand slightly. "Stay."

She stops and stares at me, rubs her foot against her calf.

"Drop your towel, then get down on your hands and knees and crawl to me."

Her lips part after hearing my commands, then she snaps into character. "Yes, Mr. Morow."

I feel old when she calls me that, but agreed to it to keep with the power dynamic between us. That's the real reason she has me here, the fact that she finds me repulsive and attractive at the same time gets her moist. So does the control I have when I fight and kill. 

The fact that I fear nothing. All the power she's used to having, goes out the window with me. The towel lightly thuds on the ground and the floor creaks beneath her as she kneels and crawls toward me.

"Look at me," I say.

Her doe eyes look up and watch as I flex my cock to make it go back and forth. When she gets to my feet she bows her head, waiting for further instruction. I raise her up by the back of her neck and bring her closer to me. I flex my cock again so it hits her face, on the nose, cheeks, lips. 

She inhales it, opens her mouth wide enough to take in the head, but I don't want that from her. In fact, the more I look at her lips, the more I wish they were Oby's. I grab Machi by her hair, which makes her yelp. She bites her lip trying not to make more noise.

I squeeze her neck. "Don't make a sound unless I tell you. Is that understood?"

She looks up at me as if she's innocent and nods. "Yes Mr. Morow."

I snatch her hair tie off and watch her hair fall in spiky folds down her back. Once it does, I get up, let the whole of my pelvis brush against her face and ear. After walking around to her backside, I pick her up by her torso and throw her on the bed face first. She doesn't even gasp. 

I use the hair tie to wrap her hands up, just loose enough not to cut off circulation. Her hair tumbles into her face as she turns to the side to see what I'm about to do. "Bury your face in the covers," I order. She obeys. 

Her hands fall in a perfect line down to her ass. I spread Machi's knees apart into a child's pose and push her arms up to the middle of her back. It's uncomfortable, but that's what she wants, right? "Stay in this position, no matter what."

Lips open, I can see into the pink canal of her. I rub my finger along her sex, watch breath build inside her body and expand the sides of her chest. I hope she doesn't think I'll be soft. Her hips wiggle on the bed as she becomes more aroused. Her clit expands against my finger. The way her thighs brace, I can tell she's ready. 

I smack her between the legs. "Stay still, or I won't fuck you." It takes everything in her, but she stills like a rock. I smack her cunt slowly at first and quicken the wetter she gets, her body tightens up completely. If she relaxes at all, she'll break all the rules and she's too horny to do that now. I get lost in the sound of the lashes, waiting for her to finish. 

The tips of her ass and inner thighs grow red when she's close. I watch her bite down on the blanket and grip for dear life when she cums. I dip my fingers inside her and they're choked by her contractions.

I'm supposed to fuck her now. To break her tiny little body into as many pieces as I can. She told me that she gets tired of being strong, of being so hard all the time. That getting slammed hard in a fight or during sex is the only time she can feel vulnerable, comfortable enough to be soft, docile, trusting, another part of herself. I've obliged her requests up to this point, wanted it even, but tonight I'm not as aroused by the feel of Machi's skin.

I already know why, but I don't want it to be true. Oby's getting into my head, not just her sex, but her. If I were smarter I'd stay away, stay elastic, but, fuck, I don't know. Just when I thought I'd evolved past emotions, I find someone who unnerves me in a way that I love and can't stand at the same time.

For this reason, I have to fuck Machi, to remain unattached and hold onto the me that I know, who I feel safest with. Yet I can only stay excited by thinking of Oby, replaying our date in my head. Her curves in that dress. Her thighs and ass are so taut and round I want to bury my head in them. 

The smell of palm oil in her hair, the way her breath felt against my face while healing me. The way she moves like water and breeze. So graceful yet controlled. I only taught myself to dance to get closer to her. The ballad she performed for me was gorgeous, the lines her body can draw. How perfectly each part of her fits in my mouth. 

It was like felt brushing along my skin. How rich and smooth her skin is. How wet. The scent of her pussy, I could taste the lemongrass tea in her body, how it perfumed her vulva. Hmm, I want her. I want her so bad it hurts. Yet all I can do now is pump my frustration into Machi.

This isn't me. I don't get mad, or scared or jealous or distracted. I'm not a nice person who does things to get closer to others.

I pull at Machi's hair, trying to forget, to go into oblivion. Focus on the physical sensation. But I keep coming back to those turquoise eyes. I'd been waiting for her for so long, and I'd wait longer if necessary, but she was finally going to put me out of my misery. 

Then that asshole had to interrupt us. I can't believe I relaxed so much that I couldn't sense them until they were right outside the house. I wanted to protect her and was disappointed when she wouldn't let me.

Why did she send me away? Is there another man? The thought of her being with someone else makes me wish I'd killed whoever was at the door. I'm such a sap that I actually left instead of staying to find out who they were. I want her to trust me. I want to know what she's hiding from me. 

For her to be mine and no one else's. Is that as scary to her as it is to me? Machi bites her lip, tears and sweat run down her face as she orgasms again. I manage to cum too, but only after remembering Oby dripping down my hand, her sucking her cum off my fingers, and the sexy way she moans.

END OF SEX SCENE

Ironically, I don't usually like sex. In and of itself, it's quite boring, so I avoid it. Most women are boring, weak, expecting me to do all the work, to be affectionate, make them feel needed and loved. I simply don't have the patience for those kind of insecurities. In my stint working in adult films, my body was treated like a machine, a primitive brain dead beast driven by the need to fuck anything with a pulse. 

Meanwhile an "actress" who couldn't care less, flailed around like a fish I was gutting. I'm better than that, and refuse to ever go back to that life. Maybe most men don't care if the woman actually gets off during their encounter, but I do, that's half the fun. But only if it's with the right partner. That's what made Oby and Machi stand out. Their strength, their fearlessness. 

They won't wait on anyone to give them anything, they'll just fight for it themselves. They can take the pain and give it back to me. The difference is under the right circumstances Oby might have a chance of winning. There's no telling the lengths her nen ability will grow and I can't wait to see.

I untie Machi when we're done and walk to the bathroom to clean off. There's a knock on the door and when I open it, I see a staff member with my clothes freshly laundered. His eyes grow big and look away when he sees that I'm naked. He shoves the clothes in my face and walks away. I don't know why people are so uncomfortable with nudity. It's not like I was going to smack him over the head with my cock.

Machi giggles. "Have you no shame?"

"Why should I?" I reply with a smile.

Tucked under the covers, she watches me as I get dressed and ready to head out. "You can stay the night if you want."

That's new for her. She's not the lonely type. Maybeshe's just testing me. Sleeping with people isn't for me. I'm not interested in letting my guard down around anyone else right now. I need to find out if someone's actually spying on me. Plus the rest of the Phantom Troupe's nearby and I don't want to risk bumping into any of them. 

I rub her rosy cheeks. "I'm good, but thanks for tonight. I'll see you around." She rubs her lips against my hand, a surprisingly gentle gesture. Not sure where that's leading, nor do I care to know, so I walk away. I've shown enough affection for today. "Good night," I say before closing the door.