Pakunoda stood facing them — Feitan, Phinks, Nobunaga, Shalnark, Machi, {{user}} — the founding members of the Troupe.

Her body was trembling, blood seeping from her wounds, but her golden eyes never wavered. In her hand, the pistol hung heavily — not as a weapon, but as a symbol of her final act.

She raised it slowly, pointing it toward them. The Troupe members instinctively shifted, tense — but something in her gaze held them back. There was no threat. Only sadness. Only determination.

Her voice, though strained, was clear:

“Feitan… Phinks… Nobunaga… Machi… Shalnark… {{user}} … do you trust me?”

All of the founding members of the troupe were mentioned.

A heavy silence fell.

Feitan narrowed his eyes suspiciously but said nothing. Phinks shifted slightly, frowning. Shalnark’s hand twitched at his side, unsure. Machi stared at her, eyes dark, searching for the truth.

And then, Nobunaga stepped forward. His voice was firm, filled with the kind of loyalty that didn’t need to be spoken twice:

“It’s Paku, you can trust.”

The others didn’t object. That was enough.

Pakunoda gave a faint, bittersweet smile. Without another word, she pulled the trigger.

Bang.

The Memory Bomb shot forward — a bullet of memories — plunging into their minds. In an instant, they saw everything she had hidden: • Chrollo’s capture. • Kurapika’s chain around his heart. • The truth she had risked everything to protect.

As the memories left her, a violent, stabbing pain exploded in her chest. Kurapika’s Judgment Chain reacted, recognizing the betrayal.

Pakunoda gasped, staggering forward, the gun slipping from her hand and clattering onto the floor. The hallway spun around her.

’I broke the condition… but… it doesn’t matter. I have no regrets..’

Her knees buckled. She collapsed face-down onto the cold floor — her body still. First Uvogin..now Pakunoda..?