HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

The battle had barely begun—just a brief exchange—and it was already over.

"…That's it?" Biscuit looked utterly confused.

The liquid ore was already in hand. Shouldn't they have just taken it and run? Did this kid really have such a strong moral compass? He really just borrowed it for a look and gave it back?

"What do you take me for?" Cyr shot Biscuit an exasperated glance.

You natives might not have morals, but I do.

Thick black smoke spread across half the sky, the wind carrying fine dust through the air.

Cyr raised a hand to cover his nose, avoiding the awkwardness of sneezing.

"I thought you'd be a little more reckless," Biscuit said ambiguously.

Like back in the desert, when he had acted as if "even if I can't win, I can still take you down with me."

"There was no need to." The white-haired boy patted Maro's shoulder.

The blond youth's expression was twisted with guilt.

Getting controlled by Chrollo's ability wasn't surprising. If anything, it would've been strange if Chrollo couldn't control him.

Chrollo might be the brain of the Phantom Troupe, but that didn't mean he couldn't fight.

His combat ability just wasn't as straightforward as the troupe's main fighters.

Even in battle, Chrollo was the type to fight with his mind—turning the tables, outsmarting stronger opponents.

That was just Cyr's guess, based on a few video clips he had come across before.

"I'm not enemies with Chrollo, and he hasn't done anything bad to me," Cyr said, shifting his gaze from the little tiger gnawing on Chrollo's pants.

If anything, he had been the one eyeing Chrollo's earrings.

But it was just borrowing for a look—no big deal.

He hadn't expected the system to classify them as bound items. He had assumed it would just take them.

And guilt? Completely unnecessary.

If you're willing to kill, you should be prepared to be killed. So if you're a thief, you should be prepared to have things stolen from you.

That was only fair.

Chrollo glanced down at the small tiger clinging to his pants and let out a soft chuckle.

"We're leaving," Cyr said, nudging the bold little cub with his foot.

The cub flopped onto the ground, shook its head, then quickly scrambled to follow him.

Now that they had the liquid ore, they could leave.

Sticking around any longer and Chrollo might actually try to befriend him.

…Though, Gojo and Sukuna's abilities shouldn't be stealable, right? Different systems entirely.

"You're not here for the gemstone auction?" Biscuit asked curiously.

Most people in the area at this time were here for the auction—an annual grand-scale gemstone trade fair.

That was why she was here, after all.

"Never heard of it." The white-haired boy tossed out the words without looking back as he walked away.

What a strange kid.

But… he was definitely stronger than when she had first met him in the desert.

His growth rate was insane.

"Chrollo, want to go to the auction with me?" Biscuit asked, turning away from the boy's retreating figure. Her smile was shy, expectant.

"Of course." The dark-haired man smiled back, as if he had already forgotten how she had been the one to point out his earrings were liquid ore—causing him all that trouble.

Two people, neither of whom could be trusted to tell the truth, decided to travel together.

—

Before authorities could lock down the airspace over Rokario, Cyr and his group had already boarded a blimp and left.

By the time the first hints of dawn touched the sky, they had flown past Rokario's borders and were soaring over the vast ocean.

Cyr sat by the window, enjoying the view. Occasionally, he glanced at Maro, who was brooding in the corner, radiating a gloomy aura.

Ever since getting controlled by Chrollo, the guy had been stuck like this.

Cyr wasn't in the mood to comfort him, but his negativity was really ruining the peaceful atmosphere.

Lazily, he poured himself a glass of milk, took a sip, and finally spoke.

"Do you even know who that guy was?"

"..." Maro turned his head, looking completely out of it.

"An A-rank wanted criminal. Leader of the Phantom Troupe. Currently has a bounty of one billion."

Anyone with a bounty exceeding one hundred million was a Nen user. Five hundred million was a significant tier, and one billion was a whole different level.

In other words, if someone put up a billion-dollar commission for the Zoldycks to take down the Troupe, they might not even accept it—because they'd consider it a terrible deal.

If Maro ever became a wanted criminal… getting past one hundred million would already be impressive.

As for Cyr, his bounty was definitely above five hundred million, possibly reaching a billion—after all, he was a solo act. Group bounties always ran higher.

"He's the leader of the Phantom Troupe? I couldn't even tell…" Maro muttered blankly.

There was no sign of it. The guy looked like a well-mannered, harmless rich kid.

"Probably because he wasn't slicking his hair back." Cyr's expression was hard to describe.

When Chrollo was in spider mode with his hair slicked back, he definitely looked more… thief-like.

"…" Maro couldn't even imagine what that would look like.

"So it's normal that you couldn't match him. If he were serious…" The white-haired boy's lips curled.

"You'd be dead." He said it lightly, almost offhandedly.

Maro's expression tensed.

He had no doubts about the strength of a billion-dollar thief.

But what really unsettled him wasn't the power gap—it was the fact that…

After being controlled, he had attacked his master.

He had been too weak. That was why he had been manipulated so easily.

And there had to be others in the world with similar abilities.

What if this happened again?

He couldn't accept it. The idea of becoming a blade turned against his own master.

Even if he had been controlled, that was still betrayal.

If that ever happened again, he'd rather just die.

"Master…" The blond youth suddenly dropped to his knees, forehead pressing against the ground. All Cyr could see was the back of his head.

"If I ever lose control and attack you again, please kill me immediately."

His hands were planted firmly on the floor, and he never once looked up.

Ah… so that's what he's been brooding over—how his target changed mid-fight…

How should he respond to this…?

"It's fine. I don't care." Cyr waved a hand dismissively, looking completely unconcerned.

"Because, Maro, your strength is super weak." He beamed, voice filled with amusement.

"Even if you were controlled and tried to attack me, you wouldn't be able to land a hit." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

In fact, he thought his reassurance was very considerate from all angles.

Maro, however, seemed to go even paler.

"I understand…" he lowered his head further.

He had to get stronger.

Even if he was controlled again, he needed to be able to break free.

He could never cause trouble for his master again.

Even if… his master probably didn't even consider his strength capable of being a problem.

°°°

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