Everything was arranged. All that remained was to wait for Slaka to make his move.
Joey's prediction was accurate: on the eleventh day of the voyage, at 6 a.m., Slaka acted.
The first to fall was Hastor, one of the Third Prince's private soldiers who shared a room with Slaka.
Even though Kurapika had already tested Hastor—confirming he had awakened Nen—he still had no chance. Slaka pinned him to the bed with a dagger before he could react.
It happened in an instant.
But for Joey, this was all within the bounds of his En. He noticed Slaka's movement immediately—but did nothing to stop him, nor did he try to save Hastor.
If Slaka had the resolve to kill Hastor, that meant Hastor harbored malicious intent toward the Twelfth Prince.
In Joey's eyes, such a man didn't deserve to live.
Two others were present in the guard room—both had returned from the Thirteenth Prince's district after his death.
Slaka didn't harm them. After killing Hastor, he stepped out under their tense gazes, muttering incoherently.
The two raised their guns the moment he left and fired three shots.
All aimed at Slaka. Not a single one hit.
Slaka, now using his Nen-enhanced physicality, lunged toward Sakata in the main hall.
But before he could reach him, on the other side of the room, Juan—actually Hisoka—smiled and flicked a playing card between his fingers.
Kurapika's brow furrowed immediately.
The card, guided by pink aura, sliced into Slaka's throat with ease.
Blood sprayed over Sakata's face, but he remained unfazed. He was already aiming his pistol.
Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger and riddled Slaka's body with bullets.
At that moment, the door to District Twelve burst open and a tall figure stormed in.
Everyone recognized him instantly—he wore the First Prince's private soldier uniform.
But what was he doing here?
"Hands in the air! I suspect someone from District Twelve infiltrated District Nine and attempted to assassinate the Ninth Prince. Drop your weapons and cooperate!"
The man identified himself—Viktor, the soldier assigned to surveil District Nine.
His tone was commanding, as if he had undeniable proof. As he spoke, he raised his gun—not at anyone in particular, but at empty space before him.
Before he could say more, a figure suddenly dashed toward him.
"Stop! If you continue to approa—"
He didn't finish. His gun fired.
But the assailant didn't dodge. A flung playing card deflected the bullet and flew straight for Viktor's throat.
Viktor narrowed his eyes, ready to drop the gun and activate his ability—but then pain exploded in his back.
He'd been struck.
The blow staggered him, just long enough for Hisoka to close in. As they passed one another, Hisoka's card slashed Viktor's neck.
"Phinks!" Kurapika's eyes locked—not on Hisoka, but on the man who ambushed Viktor.
He knew the face. No eyebrows. Short blond hair.
A member of the Phantom Troupe.
"I've found you, Hisoka," said Phinks, eyes fixed on him. He grabbed Viktor's body and stole his gun.
Hisoka, his disguise dropped as he drew more cards, said nothing—he just flung another card at Phinks.
The fight erupted fast. Phinks fired once, then both men vanished into the hallway.
The guards in District Twelve were left stunned.
None had expected Slaka to suddenly attack—or that Juan, supposedly a trusted core member of the guard, had been an imposter.
"I want an explanation!" Sakata was the first to recover. Wiping blood from his face, his tone was grave.
"This isn't the time for that," Joey stepped forward, shielding Prince Mumuzé. "Securing the prince's safety is the top priority. Your Highness, please return to your quarters and await further instructions."
Bisky joined them, escorting Mumuzé and Joey back to the prince's room.
Sakata wanted to speak—but the shock on Mumuzé's face was clearly not feigned. He held his tongue.
Kurapika remained. Once informed of Hastor's death, he looked seriously at Sakata.
"The Royal Guard will likely intervene. Hisoka is an assassin—but to think he was impersonating Juan... That means the real Juan is probably already dead. But how did he get in?"
Sakata didn't want to believe it—but he'd seen Juan transform with his own eyes.
And now sounds of combat echoed from the corridor.
"What about Phinks?" Sakata asked. He wasn't far from Kurapika earlier and had clearly heard the name.
"He's a member of the Phantom Troupe," Kurapika replied bluntly. After confirming Joey and Bisky had escorted Mumuzé safely inside, he moved to the doorway.
The corridor was now packed with people—mostly from District Nine.
The Ninth Prince had arrived with his retainers.
After all, Viktor had been surveilling him.
Two figures clashed rapidly in the corridor, moving steadily toward the Royal Zone. Their speed alone proved they were formidable.
And one of them—judging by his clothes—looked nothing like a guard. More like a tourist.
But the first floor, where the princes resided, was sealed off. Without Royal Guard permission, no one from the lower decks could enter.
So either this person was disguised as a prince's subordinate—or had found some other way in.
The guards, some of whom were from the Hunter Association, identified him instantly.
Hisoka.
Even within the Association, he was infamous.
But why was he here?
Some had noticed the two emerged from District Twelve—but then, a thick fog rolled in, obscuring all vision in seconds.
This was Joey's doing.
Though his En couldn't cover the entire corridor, it expanded as he moved—spreading fog behind him.
The Joey left in District Twelve was just a clone.
He had prepared it the night before, giving it minimal aura.
His real body had slipped into District Eight, using Mirage Step to hide.
Alongside him—another of Hisoka's clones, disguised as Phinks.
After all, it made no sense for the real Phantom Troupe to be on Deck One right now.
Districts Eight, Ten, and Twelve formed a straight line. Joey's En, though limited, could probe from District Eight into District Twelve in a jagged form.
So as Slaka acted, Joey and Hisoka's clone also moved.
Hisoka's clone, disguised as Phinks, smashed open District Nine's door and shouted: "For Prince Benjamin!"
He opened fire on the room's occupants.
Viktor, guarding the Ninth Prince, immediately retaliated. Hisoka's clone, despite taking a hit, bolted down the corridor, leaving blood in his wake.
The Ninth Prince's suspicion fell on Viktor.
Viktor fled District Nine, chasing after the assailant—aware it might be a trap.
But staying meant danger too.
His aim was to pass intel to Prince Benjamin. The enemy had bled—likely not a powerful Nen user.
That meant Viktor could capture him, get information, and potentially expose the Ninth Prince's aggressive Nen ability in front of witnesses.
Even if Halkenburg held back, Viktor would still gain valuable intelligence. It was a win-win.
Viktor saw the attacker dart into District Twelve and pursued.
He hadn't expected the door to be shut.
Inside, he sensed a presence with his En—but saw nothing.
Then came a sudden, violent strike.
His En registered the assailant shifting behind him—changing form.
Then a fatal blow landed.
Hisoka and his clone had executed the perfect play. Then both exited District Twelve.
At that moment, Joey triggered his Weather Report ability—filling the corridor with dense fog. Visibility dropped to zero.
Even with ventilation, the mist wouldn't thin for several minutes.
That window was all Joey and Hisoka needed.
Phinks, who had been chasing Hisoka, halted in the fog.
Hisoka activated En. Without speaking, he and Joey sprinted toward the Royal Zone.
There was no way to explore it without brute force.
Joey had tried using Fugetsu's door ability to reach the casket room—but it didn't work.
Either the room was the ritual's core and off-limits to Nen beasts—or her beast sensed danger and refused.
If it was the former, destroying the casket room might end the war.
Joey's new objectives:
Assassinate King Nasubi Hui Guo Rou.
Locate the casket room and investigate Princes Fourth, Eighth, and Thirteenth.
Destroy the casket chamber.
Escape with Hisoka to the lower decks.
Plan confirmed, Joey and Hisoka reached the Royal Zone.
It was already on high alert. The skirmish in the corridor had triggered emergency protocols.
Neither hesitated.
Hisoka's clone charged in first.
Gunshots rang out—but were useless. After two bursts, silence returned.
"Several Nen users here—but weak," Joey assessed.
His En now fully enveloped the Royal Zone. Nasubi's aura was absent.
But he sensed a few other users. Weak ones.
Even resisting his Nen-infused lightning seemed beyond them.
No one could stop them—so their advance was rapid.
But the moment they stepped into the Royal Zone, alarms blared.
Joey kicked open a door. They entered.
It was the room where the Ninth Prince had once met Nasubi.
Empty.
The fog stopped there—but outside, heavy rain fell.
Within seconds, thick ice sealed the doorway shut.
"You sure Nasubi's in here?" Hisoka asked, glancing around.
He was curious about Nasubi. The prince's Guardian Beast was strange—and some abilities were impressive.
As the only survivor of the previous war, Nasubi's Nen had to be special.
He also understood Joey's play.
By exposing Hisoka and even the Phantom Troupe, Joey was sending a message to the mafia.
Joey hadn't hidden the lower deck situation—where the Troupe had seemingly allied with the mafia to hunt Hisoka.
Now Hisoka's exposure made him a universal enemy—except for Joey.
It was a blatant attempt to bind them together.
But Hisoka didn't protest. He still needed Joey—for the princes' backing, for intel from the Hunter Association.
Even if that meant taking out the Troupe—his personal pleasure.
Joey glanced at his watch. "There must be a hidden room or secret passage. Nasubi should be inside."
"He's not just hiding?" Hisoka asked.
"No," Joey shook his head. "During the Ninth Prince's surveillance, I noticed Nasubi has spatial abilities. If this room is ordinary, he may have used Nen—or his beast—to teleport."
"If that's true, we'll never reach him."
Hisoka looked over—Joey was scanning every inch of the room and planting hidden bugs.
"You're planning to assassinate him here? How long will the ice hold?" Hisoka asked, amused.
"Three minutes. Max," Joey held up three fingers. "Besides—assassins don't always need to stay in the room to kill."