Hunter x Hunter: The Strongest Zoldyck

Chapter 114 See you tomorrow!

A buzz of discussion arose in the stands; some applauded, some booed, and some looked down at their betting slips with complicated expressions.

Roy ignored the voices.

He glanced at Ryujin and nodded slightly.

"You are very strong."

It's not strength in terms of physical power, but strength in terms of will.

Ryujin paused for a moment, then grinned.

That smile was genuine and deep, like a stone that had been washed by a river for a long time—rough but clean.

.Thanks..

'

Roy turned and walked off the ring.

Fika jumped up, his red hair blazing like fire under the lights: "Boss! Boss! What kind of punch was that?"

"How did the game end so quickly when I was distracted?"

Roy didn't answer, but simply reached out and patted Fica on the head.

"Quiet down, go buy some water."

Fica pouted, but still obediently turned around and ran towards the vending machine.

Roy sat down in the player's seat and looked down at his right hand.

Spread your fingers, then clench them.

Open it, then clench it again.

The silvery-white light of thought flickered in my palm, like a heartbeat.

One-tenth...

""

He murmured to himself, his silver-gray eyes reflecting the quiet, small light in his palm.

"What would happen if we played them all out?"

No one answered him.

In the last row, Bisky popped a new candy into her mouth, her cheek puffing out slightly.

Her gaze swept over the dense crowd and landed on the silver-haired boy who was looking down at his hands. A slight smile appeared on her lips. "He'll kill someone," she mumbled, then stood up, put her hands in her pockets, and slowly walked toward the exit.

High heels clicked on the concrete steps.

Tap! Tap! Tap! ...

The sound was neither hurried nor slow, like a silent countdown.

"That's really nice..."

""

As the moonlight gradually brightened in the dark sky, scattered silvery rays shone through the windows on the second floor, illuminating the red-haired man staring at the electronic screen.

He had delicate features, long, narrow eyes, a sharp chin, and a high nose.

At this moment, his slender eyes were slightly narrowed, and something was churning deep within his pupils.

That wasn't murderous intent; it was something even more viscous.

It's an almost morbid expectation that arises when you corner your prey and watch it struggle, grow, and transform.

The owner of these eyes is none other than the mysterious magician... Hisoka... Moro.

"It's getting sweeter and sweeter."

Extending his slender left hand, he gently touched the cold glass with the tip of his index finger, slowly tracing the outline of the silver-haired boy on the screen, like an invisible snake licking the nape of its prey from two hundred layers away.

Three steps behind him, a woman with blue-purple hair leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring at him expressionlessly.

The bright indoor lights shone on her, making her already pale skin appear even whiter, smoother, and more delicate.

Her features weren't stunning, but they were very pleasing to the eye, like a finely polished knife, with every line clean and crisp, without a single unnecessary curve.

Especially those eyes... deep blue pupils, as cold as two blocks of ice carved from the depths of a glacier.

At that moment, those eyes were fixed on Hisoka's back, showing no disgust, no curiosity, and not even impatience.

There was only a kind of indifference that came from "being used to it."

Machi...

The person standing behind Hisoka... is Machi.

The Phantom Troupe's chief medical officer, tracking expert... and the most relied-upon intuition and early warning system by the Troupe's leader, Chrollo Lucifer.

She was wearing a high-necked, dark-colored knit sweater, the neckline covering most of her neck, revealing only a small section of pale skin and a faint bluish vein above her collarbone.

Her long hair fell from her shoulders, taking on a deep, almost inky blue hue under the moonlight, like the surface of a lake at midnight.

With her hands clasped in front of her chest, her fingers were long and strong, with distinct knuckles, and her nails were neatly trimmed and unpainted.

Those hands can weave threads of thought into knives, nets, and locks in a fraction of a second.

He could also reconnect Hisoka's blood vessels, muscles, and skin with a blank expression when Hisoka lost his arm, as if mending a tattered garment.

"Have you seen enough?"

Machi's voice was soft and devoid of emotion, but it sounded exceptionally clear in the empty room.

Hisoka didn't turn around; his fingers, which had been tracing Roy's outline, stopped at the top of the silver-white figure's head on the screen.

"no."

His tone carried a sense of entitlement and childish capriciousness: "I can never get enough of looking at it."

March's eyebrows twitched slightly, the only change in her expression all evening.

"He is dangerous."

"Um.

""

Hisoka withdrew his hand, turned around, leaned against the French windows, put his hands in his pockets, and tilted his head to look at Machi.

The moonlight streamed through him, casting his long shadow on the floor, stretching all the way to Machi's feet.

"That's what makes it interesting, isn't it?"

I wasn't talking about you.

Machi's gaze passed over Hisoka and landed on the silvery-white dot of light in the distance outside the window, which was getting smaller, farther away, and finally disappearing at the end of the corridor.

"I mean...everyone."

Hisoka smiled.

The smile started with a small curve at the corner of his mouth, slowly expanding like ripples on the surface of water, eventually becoming a complete, undisguised, and blatant expression of joy.

"That would be even better."

He turned around and looked out the window again.

Silvery-white light bathed the entire Sky Arena, coating the massive steel and concrete tower with a layer of cold frost.

"One more day."

Hisoka's voice was so low it sounded like he was talking to himself.

Uncrossing her arms, Machi straightened up from the wall and walked towards the door.

She paused for a moment when her hand touched the doorknob.

"Don't go too far."

The door opened, she went out, and then the door closed again.

Only Hisoka and his shadow remained in the room.

Reach out and tap the glass once more, on the spot where the long-vanished silver-white figure had once appeared on the screen.

No, it won't.

Hisoka opened his mouth to the air and exhaled a puff of white breath.

My heart... has finally waited so long for such a sweet fruit.

The moonlight became even brighter.

A red-haired man's crescent-shaped smile was reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows on the 200th floor.

That smile was beautiful.

It's so beautiful it sends chills down your spine.

Sky Arena, Basement Level, Parking Lot.

Maggie stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor.

The moment the door closed, she lowered her eyes and looked at her hands, which had once stitched up countless wounds.

"The seed of thought... has only just sprouted and already exudes that sense of oppression."

She couldn't help but whisper, "Hisoka, what you picked up isn't some kind of Devil Fruit."

Looking up at her reflection in the metal panel of the elevator door, Machi shook her head: "That might be a knife that hasn't been drawn yet."

The elevator doors opened, and the lights from the lobby on the first floor flooded in.

Machi went outside.

Countdown: One day.

...