HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

The sound of crackling flames filled the air. The scent of roasting meat and spices drifted into Killua's nose as he slowly opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was several people sitting around a campfire, cooking meat. The fire's glow painted their faces a deep red.

"Killua, you're awake!" The boy in green perked up, turning to him with a bright smile.

Ah. This wasn't a dream. Thank god. Gon was really okay. Even though he'd seen him gravely injured just before losing consciousness, Gon now looked completely fine. Like everything he saw before was just an illusion. Something happened. Something he didn't know about. But as long as Gon was okay, nothing else mattered.

Killua sat down next to Gon and, without hesitation, grabbed a piece of freshly cooked meat. "…It's good." One bite, and his eyes widened. It was shockingly delicious.

"Right?! Right?! I think so too! Maro's cooking is seriously amazing!" Gon cheered as he devoured his portion with enthusiasm.

…Wait. That guy's sidekick made this? No wonder that guy let him tag along—it was probably just for the food. Killua grumbled but still dug in with renewed vigor.

Meanwhile, a certain red-haired man sat nearby—tied up like a sacrificial offering. Binolt stared hungrily at the group feasting on grilled meat. His stomach growled. He could only gulp down saliva.

"You go." Cyr shot Bisky a look.

Biscuit sighed. Without a word, she stood up, smoothed out her skirt, and walked over to Binolt. With a quick motion, she untied the ropes. The moment he gained freedom, Binolt lashed out—only to miss completely as Biscuit ducked.

"Become our assistant instructor." Her voice was calm. "You have two choices—agree, or die."

The contrast was bizarre. On the left, a peaceful dinner. On the right, an intense fight. The scene didn't match at all.

"This guy's way too chill about this…" Killua muttered, sneaking a glance at Cyr, who was watching everything calmly.

"It's fine," Gon said with confidence. "If it were really serious, we wouldn't still be sitting here eating, right?"

"…Fair point." Killua scowled but bit into his meat again, annoyed.

"I—I get it! I GET IT!" After some persuasion (a severe beating), Binolt, bruised and swollen, finally caved. "I'll do it! I'll be the instructor!"

Cyr glanced at him. Then at his injuries. After a brief moment of thought—he didn't heal him.

It was fine. Let him stay a little injured. That way, he'd be weaker—perfect for Killua and Gon to train against. If he were too strong, the fights would be one-sided. And one-sided battles don't lead to growth. That was precisely why Cyr and Biscuit didn't train Killua and Gon directly.

The next day, Binolt dragged his injured body and began his new job—sparring partner. Under his reluctant instruction, Killua and Gon improved at a visible pace. And as they trained, time passed quickly.

"Something's happening lately…" Cyr murmured, eyes drifting to the sky.

When players died in the game, their bodies turned into glowing specks of light that floated toward the sky before disappearing. It looked like they were turning into stars. But in reality, their corpses were simply being sent back to the console. And lately—there were a lot more lights in the sky than usual.

"You're concerned?" Biscuit asked, raising an eyebrow. Honestly, he didn't seem like the type to care about other players.

"To be honest…" Cyr rubbed his chin. "It kinda feels like someone's stealing my crops."

Biscuit: "…What?"

"I've been letting them grow, y'know? Waiting to harvest them later." "And now someone's started culling them early."

It was annoying. From Cyr's perspective, every other player's cards were already as good as his. Someone else taking them first? Unacceptable.

Biscuit looked at him. His expression was pure frustration. He was genuinely mad. At someone else stealing his "resources."

She had so many things she wanted to say. But she held back. "You can't just treat other players like your personal farm, you know?!" …was what she wanted to say. But at this point, she was pretty sure he'd just shrug and agree.

"I'm gonna check it out." With that, Cyr stood up—and vanished.

Biscuit just shook her head. Not even a little worried about him.

With the boy's incredible abilities, the chance of something going wrong was even lower than her own chances of getting into trouble.

Inside the game's town, the number of players visibly decreased.

Only NPCs continued to diligently follow the storyline.

Players were either dead or hiding, and it was becoming increasingly hard to spot them on the roads.

"Come out." Cyr stood in the middle of the road, speaking in a cold tone.

A man in green appeared behind him. There was a bomb on his shoulder, ticking down with a countdown displayed.

The style of the bomb seemed oddly familiar, like something Cyr had seen before.

"What happened?" Cyr asked, turning slightly.

"A lot of people were tricked. There was an organization that invited us to join and collect cards. But recently, we discovered that the Bomber had hidden within the group. Now, all the players who joined that organization have bombs planted on them by the Bomber..." The man in green sighed.

"He said that to remove the bomb, we need to go to the starting plains and trade cards with him."

"If you know any other players, make sure to tell them about the Bomber, his ability, and the condition: if he touches someone, and they say the three keywords 'Bomber,' a bomb will be planted on them..." the man in green reminded Cyr.

Bomb planting, huh…

But they would need to be able to touch me, right?

"No wonder players die so fast." Cyr murmured, understanding.

Actually, thinking about it, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

The Bomber killed players to collect cards to clear the game. Cyr could just wait until the Bomber had killed most of them, then step in to reap the rewards.

That would save him a lot of trouble.

"Alright, it's decided." Cyr clenched his fist and slapped it into his other palm, happy with his decision.

For now, he wouldn't kill the Bomber. He'd leave him be.

The man in green looked confused, yet also wary.

Why… was this kid not worried at all after hearing about the Bomb Man's actions? Instead, he seemed pleased?

What a weird guy.

The man thought to himself, took a few steps back, pulled out a card, and left.

Cyr decided to visit the starting plains to observe.

Groups of players appeared on the plains, while three players stood waiting to trade.

Among them was the blonde guy wearing triangle sunglasses—the Bomber. He looked somewhat familiar, like Cyr had seen him somewhere before…

Cyr dug through his memory and found the answer. It was the guy he had met with Biscuit and Chrollo in the Republic of Rokario.

That guy had been in the tavern, seeming to provoke others. After he left, an explosion occurred outside, and the mining area was destroyed.

Also, the surviving tavern customers had bombs on them, just like the man in green.

It seemed they were responsible for it.

"You're really bad, huh? I'll make sure to avenge everyone." The white-haired boy sat cross-legged in mid-air, theatrically placing his hand on his forehead and shoulders to pray for the players below. A translucent, dark gray dome-like barrier surrounded him.

The trio of the Bomber raised their thumbs and shouted a slogan for liberation, only for the players coming to trade with them to simultaneously die in an explosion.

"It's one of the conditions for using the ability, and they had also explained the Bomber's ability to the man in green before. It's just like how revealing a technique publicly can increase its strength..."

"Ah, that's simple. As long as we kill one of them, we won't be able to liberate them, right?" Cyr observed for a moment before speaking softly.

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