Hunter x Gotham

Gotham's skyline loomed under a crimson moon, its usual chaos muted by an eerie stillness. Inside a dimly lit club, Hisoka lounged at the bar, swirling a cocktail in his hand. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and cheap perfume, but beneath it, he sensed something sharper—danger. 

A faint whisper of movement, a shift in the shadows. Hisoka's lips curled into a smile. 

"Ah," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "The game begins." 

He took a slow sip of his drink, his golden eyes scanning the room. The club was alive with music and laughter, but his attention was fixed on the door. A figure stepped inside—tall, armored, one eye gleaming beneath a mask. Deathstroke. 

Hisoka's grin widened. "Well, well. who do we have here? I've heard about you... Deathstroke. Come to join the party?" 

Deathstroke didn't respond. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his gaze locked on Hisoka. 

"No?" Hisoka pouted playfully. "Such a shame. I was hoping for a dance." 

Before Deathstroke could move, Hisoka flicked his wrist. A playing card shot through the air, slicing toward Deathstroke's throat. The mercenary deflected it with his blade, the card embedding itself in the wall behind him. 

"Cute," Deathstroke growled. "But you'll need more than tricks to survive tonight." 

Hisoka chuckled, rising from his seat. "Oh, I have plenty more where that came from." In a blink of an eye he threw a card at Deathstoke and quickly jumped out of the window into an ally. Deathstroke slapped it away as if it was nothing.

---

Deathstroke wasn't alone. Outside the club, Lady Shiva waited in the shadows, her presence as silent as the night itself. She watched the entrance with cold, calculating eyes. 

"He's baiting us," Shiva said, her voice calm but edged with steel. 

"Let him," Deathstroke replied, his tone flat. "He won't see us coming." 

They'd been tracking Hisoka for days, studying his patterns, his quirks, his weaknesses. Tonight, they'd put an end to his games. 

---

Hisoka stepped into a dark alley, the neon glow of the club fading behind him. He walked slowly, deliberately, his hands in his pockets. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made his skin tingle. 

A faint *crack* split the silence. Hisoka tilted his head just in time—a sniper shot grazed his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. He touched the wound, his smile widening. 

"Oy!" Hisoka called out, his voice echoing in the alley. "You missed." 

Before he could react, a whisper of movement caught his ear. Lady Shiva descended from above like a shadow, her strikes swift and unforgiving. Her palm struck his chest, driving the air from his lungs. Her fingers grazed his neck, disrupting his balance. 

Hisoka stumbled back, his grin never faltering. "And who might you be, my dear?" 

"Your end," Shiva replied, her voice as cold as her eyes. 

Hisoka's laughter echoed through the alley. "Such confidence! I love it." 

---

Hisoka twisted away from Shiva's next strike, his movements fluid and unpredictable. He flicked his wrist, and Bungee Gum snapped out, yanking a crate into Shiva's path. She sidestepped it effortlessly, her movements fluid and precise. 

"You're quick," Hisoka admitted, dodging a kick from Shiva. "But can you keep up?" 

Shiva didn't respond. Her strikes came faster, each one targeting Hisoka's vitals. He blocked and countered, but her precision was unmatched. 

Deathstroke entered the fray, his sword gleaming in the moonlight. He swung at Hisoka, forcing him to duck and weave. Hisoka retaliated with a flurry of playing cards, each one slicing through the air with deadly precision. Deathstroke deflected them with his blade, his movements calculated and efficient. 

"You're good," Hisoka admitted, blocking a kick from Shiva. "But can you keep up?" 

He snapped his fingers, and Bungee Gum latched onto a lamppost, yanking it down to block Deathstroke's path. The mercenary cursed, shoving the debris aside, but Hisoka was already moving, jumping from a wall to another, usiing Bungee Gum to fling himself up.

"Running already?" Deathstroke taunted, his voice cold. 

Hisoka grinned down at him. "Oh, I'm just getting started." 

---

Hisoka landed on the rooftop, breathing heavily. Blood dripped from his wounds, staining his coat. Deathstroke and Shiva closed in, their movements synchronized. 

"End of the line," Deathstroke growled, leveling his sword at Hisoka's throat. 

Hisoka grinned, his eyes gleaming with manic energy. "How fun…" 

He flicked his wrist, and Bungee Gum snapped onto Shiva's wrist. Before she could react, he yanked her forward, using her momentum to send her crashing into Deathstroke. The two stumbled, giving Hisoka the opening he needed. 

---

The rooftop exploded in a flash of pink and shadows. Bungee Gum lashed out in every direction, tearing through the air like a living thing. When the dust settled, there was only silence. 

A lone playing card fluttered to the ground, landing at Deathstroke's feet. He picked it up, narrowing his eye at the bloodstain smeared across its surface. 

"Damn clown," he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. 

Shiva stepped forward, her expression unreadable. "He's not done." 

Somewhere in the distance, a faint laugh echoed through the night. Hisoka's voice carried on the wind, playful and taunting. 

"Until next time.." 

The game was far from over. 

---

As the dust settled, Deathstroke and Shiva regrouped on the rooftop. Deathstroke wiped blood from his blade, his expression grim. 

"He's strong," Deathstroke admitted, his voice low. "Stronger than I expected." 

Shiva nodded, her eyes scanning the shadows. "But not invincible. He's arrogant. He plays with his prey instead of finishing them." 

Deathstroke grunted. "That arrogance will be his downfall. He's like no one else I've met, but he's not untouchable." 

Shiva's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Precisely. He relies on his tricks, his unpredictability. But predictability is a luxury we don't need. We adapt. We strike where he least expects it." 

Deathstroke glanced at her, his one visible eye narrowing. "You think we can take him down?" 

Shiva's smirk widened. "I know we can. He's strong, but strength alone isn't enough. He's a predator, but so are we. And predators don't play games." 

Deathstroke nodded, his grip tightening on his sword. "Then let's finish this. Next time, he won't walk away." 

Shiva's eyes gleamed with determination. "Next time, he won't even see us coming." 

The two assassins exchanged a nod.

Their conclusion? Hisoka was strong, but they were stronger. And they would prove it.