I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire | KuroKura

Love At First Hate

"Well played, angel ..."

There was no response, not even irritation.  Kurapika was used to receiving cheeky compliments from soldiers while he took care of them.

The nurse finished applying the last gauze to the man's wound. Those eyes were still fixed on the work, though inside a hint of intrigue pricked his chest.

"Look at me," the man ordered in a low voice.

Kurapika decided to ignore him, his angelic face was expressionless but stern, even if inside him he was constantly throwing tantrums.

Chrollo adored that attitude… For the same reason, he was interested in the following reaction from him:

"I know you are a spy," Chrollo whispered.

And before Kurapika could respond, Lucilfer smiled candidly at him.

"My help in exchange for your attention, do you accept the deal?"

 ___

The smell of gunpowder and the smoke from the debris spread across the street like sea foam. The shots sounded like diffuse cacophonies in the distance, an infamous melody almost permanent for more than a year, when tensions between different nations of the world detonated in an inescapable conflict.

 It was 1940 and the war was in full swing.

Hundreds of soldiers, military tanks, weapons of all caliber, and explosives circulated turning the streets into fields of war. Department stores and buildings fell into ruins. The corpses of civilians and military men were scattered by the dozen, indiscriminately, like useless puppets.

On the radio, the leaders of each nation encouraged men to join the military, women to care for children, and children to diligently learn from propaganda. Everything was political, even food was a matter of war.

It was not an easy time for anyone.

In this context, Kurapika Kurta, a member of the Hunter Association's Intelligence Division, had been summoned to an emergency meeting with his counterparts and the top military commanders from the United States of Saherta and the Padokean Republic. It was sudden, as sudden as a meeting at 5 AM could be while the third bombing of the week was taking place in the capital.

Kurapika, despite this poor prognosis, maintained his imposing presence in the room as one of the prominent agents commanded by General Isaac Netero. The young man was there, wearing an ultramarine blue suit, black leather shoes, and perfectly combed golden hair. On his tie was the seal of the agency, which he didn't carry with much pride.

He didn't want to further this conflict.

However, the times in which Kurapika received death threats towards his family, he silenced his insistence on signing peace agreements, diplomatic truces with the nations and the withdrawal of military troops.  It didn't mean his surrender, but caution. Kurapika kept pulling strings, however, this meeting would be decisive for his future plans.

General Netero entered the room. The silence was sepulchral, ​​the long and tired faces followed the uniformed man with their gazes. On his chest he carried numerous commemorative distinctions, which for Kurapika, were nothing more than reliable proof of the unstoppable war machine that was that man, the only one who could declare war on the Kingdom of Kakin without blinking.

Kurapika was unfazed by the sight of him, but the moment Lieutenant General Pariston Hill entered the room, he knew things would go from being complicated to being even more difficult. He saw a suspicious gleam in the man's sadistic eyes, and in that sly smile on his lips. Kurapika clenched his fists. He could not assure that Netero had been actively manipulated by Pariston, but he could assure that a good part of the strategies and mobilizations of the troops were the responsibility of that man.