HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

When Cyr saw the group of tough, criminal-looking people, only one thought crossed his mind: This is perfect.

They were probably just like him—candidates for the 286th Hunter Exam.

The mercenaries in the guard unit all exuded an air of violence, with bloodstains visible on their clothes and weapons.

When they noticed the oddity of a pale, tattooed boy joining their ranks, none of them expressed dissatisfaction or surprise.

After all, everyone had seen what happened earlier.

The Gordeau Desert and the adjacent town belonged to no country. The area was a lawless land filled with all sorts of unsavory characters. Beyond a few unwritten rules, anything went.

Black market dealers, bandits, and mercenaries frequented the town's taverns, inns, and brothels. And when drunk, they often caused trouble.

This constant threat meant every caravan needed a strong guard team.

Cyr's earlier display of power ensured no one dared underestimate him, even though his behavior seemed anything but serious.

Instead of keeping watch, he played with the camels, making the other guards look like a personal escort for some young noble.

Into the Desert

The group swiftly packed up. Cyr climbed atop a camel, which was already loaded with the caravan's supplies and water. His weight was negligible for the sturdy beast.

Soon, the caravan set off, moving deeper into the desert. The long line of camels and people slowly disappeared into the dunes, swallowed by the sun and sand.

The journey was slow and grueling. Cyr, wrapped in a white robe to protect himself from the blistering heat and relentless sandstorms, swayed with the camel's steps.

Even so, sand found its way into every crevice, occasionally forcing him to spit out a mouthful of grit.

The sharp grains scraped his face like tiny razors. While Cyr could protect himself using Nen and Cursed Energy, it wasn't as effective as his desired Infinity.

"My Infinity…" he muttered, longing for the skill. But he still had 40% more compatibility to gain before unlocking it.

Even though he understood the principle behind Infinity, the system's constraints kept him from using it—it was Gojo Satoru's unique ability.

Cyr sighed. If he could learn these skills on his own, he wouldn't need to bother boosting compatibility at all.

"System, you better not plan to have someone stab me in the neck like Gojo to increase my compatibility," he grumbled.

His only self-developed power was his Nen ability, but even that wasn't fully under his control.

Meanwhile, Reverse Curse Technique—his eventual healing skill—could only be unlocked through Sukuna's compatibility.

And then there was Black Flash. Since the system didn't classify it as a skill, it seemed to depend entirely on luck.

Reflecting on this, Cyr continued practicing his Nen as the caravan trudged through the dunes.

Half a day later, the caravan was still surrounded by endless sand when someone heard faint crying.

"Crying in the desert? Could be some kind of beast luring people in," one guard speculated.

"It's human," Cyr said flatly, looking up. "A girl about my age, by appearance."

Of course, he only meant her appearance. His Six Eyes had already seen through her facade. She wasn't an ordinary child.

Though she masked her presence and let her aura trickle out like a normal person, it didn't fool Cyr.

Six Eyes didn't just see appearances—it saw the essence of things.

"A little girl?!" The caravan members were shocked.

Only the leader's reaction stood out. His initial skepticism quickly gave way to feigned surprise.

"What's a little girl doing in the desert?" the guards murmured, exchanging puzzled glances.

Cyr yawned, looking indifferent.

Seriously, does anyone actually believe a helpless little girl is wandering the desert waiting for rescue?

You're more likely to stumble upon a nest of Medusas.

"Could someone check it out?" the caravan leader asked, turning to the guards.

Naturally, in line with their unspoken contract, the guards were expected to handle potential dangers.

But none of the mercenaries seemed eager to volunteer. They exchanged glances, each waiting for someone else to step up.

Watching this unfold, Cyr had a sudden thought:

Is this part of the Hunter Exam?

Was it testing kindness? Courage? Responsibility? Or perhaps vigilance?

If this was a test, what should he do?

As Cyr mulled it over, he slid off the camel and said nonchalantly, "I'll go check."

"Boy, what are you—?" The leader eyed him skeptically.

Given Cyr's cold expression and those sharp, indifferent eyes, it looked less like he was going to investigate and more like he intended to kill someone.

"In case it's a trap, someone still has to take a look," Cyr replied, his tone laced with dry humor. He paused briefly before adding, "Who knows? Maybe there really is a poor, helpless little girl waiting for us to rescue her."

A faint smile tugged at his lips—not one of sympathy, but one that seemed to mock something unseen.

"We'll go with you," said three other guards, dismounting and stepping up beside Cyr.

Whether driven by genuine goodwill or the same suspicion as Cyr—that this was part of a test—they decided to follow his lead.

Unbothered, Cyr started walking toward the source of the crying, deliberately slowing his pace.

If this pretend-crying little girl wanted to put on a show, he'd let her perform to her heart's content.

The sobbing grew louder, eventually turning hoarse. Cyr heard the girl cough mid-cry, and only then did he decide it was time.

He picked up his pace and arrived within moments.

A small girl, around 12 or 13, with blonde hair, large eyes, and a red cloak over a short dress, sat in the sand, face buried in her hands as she wept.

Cyr's internal monologue was filled with amusement: No tears left, huh? Gotta cover your face to sell the act.

Outwardly, though, he asked, "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I...I'm Lucy," the girl sniffled.

"Daddy brought me here and told me to wait. Then they left..." she trailed off, voice trembling with sorrow.

The three guards exchanged glances, piecing together the likely scenario.

If her story were true, she'd been abandoned.

Leaving a child alone in the Gordeau Desert was a surefire way to ensure they never returned. By nightfall, the desert's beasts would be out hunting, and a fragile little girl would be the perfect prey.

"What should we do?" one of the guards asked Cyr instinctively, only realizing their blunder after the words left their mouth.

They had unconsciously deferred to him as the leader.

As if sensing that Cyr held the authority, the blonde girl—still sobbing—suddenly stood up. She stretched out her arms, aiming to hug his waist, pleading, "Please, don't leave me here! The beasts will eat me at night!"

In the next instant, her expression froze.

"Stay away from me."

Cyr's brow furrowed as he spoke, and before she could make contact, he had already stepped back several meters. At the same time, an invisible slash fell from above.

Something light and feathery landed in the sand.

The girl, whose demeanor was far less innocent than it appeared, sluggishly looked down.

It was half of her braid.

Her twin tails were now uneven.

This brat...!

Her inner fury surged.

Meanwhile, Cyr stood coolly, his actions smooth and precise—like a cat, swift and aloof.

Cyr: Perfect dodge, check.

°°°

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