Hunter x Hunter: The Strongest Zoldyck

Chapter 118 Dongba's Drink

Fica was taken aback when he heard Roy's words.

He had followed Roy for so long, and he had rarely seen his boss show such an expression.

Most of the time, Roy was calm, restrained, and kept all his emotions hidden behind his silver-gray eyes.

Like a bottomless well, you know there's water inside, but you never know how deep it is.

But just a moment ago, it seemed like something floated up from the bottom of the well.

It's not water, it's light.

"Alright, stop spacing out."

He raised his hand and patted Fica on the shoulder, the pressure neither too light nor too heavy: "Go ahead, place your bets. If you win, it's yours; if you lose, it's on me."

"That won't do!" Fica clutched his shoulder, baring his teeth, but the light in his eyes shone even brighter than before.

"If we lose, it's on both of us! I'm not a child anymore, there's no reason for the eldest to shoulder the burden alone!"

Clutching the two black cards, he turned and ran toward the betting window.

The redhead bobbed under the lamplight, ran a few steps, then suddenly stopped, turned around, and shouted to Roy, "Boss, go for it! I've staked everything on you!"

The sound bounced twice in the open space, attracting the attention of several audience members who had entered early.

Roy didn't respond, but just waved his hand, signaling him to hurry back.

Then, he stood alone at the entrance, gradually withdrawing his playful smile.

It wasn't because Fica left and there was no need to act anymore, but because he suddenly realized...

That "it's nothing" comment I made earlier wasn't meant to flatter Fika.

When he said it, that was truly what he felt.

Two hundred floors? No problem.

Hisoka, a piece of cake?

No, Hisoka is no pushover.

Hisoka is an obstacle, an obstacle he must overcome.

But after that hurdle, there are many more hurdles to overcome.

Stronger Nen users, a more dangerous hunter world, a wider sky and deeper darkness.

He's been thinking about Hisoka these past few days.

Hisoka's Nen, Hisoka's fighting style, Hisoka's line, "Let me try again."

And those slender, expectant eyes of his when he grabbed her by the neck.

He disassembled, analyzed, and rehearsed Hisoka over and over again, simulating the battle in his mind again and again, every possible move, and every possible outcome.

He pushed himself too hard, so hard that he forgot... He didn't come to the Heavens Arena in the first place for Hisoka.

It's to become stronger.

It's so that in the Hunter world, you can stand high enough and see a wide enough view.

Hisoka is just one of the rivals on this path.

It's not the end, not even the biggest stone.

He is a whetstone, a very sharp, dangerous, and biting whetstone.

But if Roy focuses all his attention on the rock, he won't be able to see the road ahead.

Fica just said, "Seraphia can reach level 200, so you'll definitely be fine, boss."

That guy genuinely felt that way.

This is not flattery or consolation; it is a heartfelt belief that Roy will be able to overcome this hurdle.

This trust suddenly made Roy feel a little heavy.

It's not the kind of weight that makes you feel suffocated, but the kind of weight that requires you to stand up straight to catch it.

He took a deep breath and forced the cool air into his dantian.

Then, he sensed it...

The thoughts within the body are flowing.

It's different from before.

Previously, when he controlled his mind, it was like taming a wild beast, using brute force to hold its head down, using his will to tighten its neck, and using repeated blows and failures to make it remember who its master was.

But now, the beast is motionless.

It's not dead, it's just quiet.

It curled up deep inside its body, the silvery light flickering, gentle and natural.

"out...

'

With a soft murmur, Luo Yi's thoughts stirred, and silvery-white thoughts immediately emerged from all parts of his body, evenly and steadily covering his body surface.

Then... he clenched his fist...

The thought did not dissipate, but instead began to flow from all directions toward his fist, transforming from diffuse to condensed, enveloping his entire fist as if he were wearing a custom-made glove.

"Scattered..."

""

After staring at his right hand for a few seconds, Roy uttered a single word, his thoughts dissipating.

Thoughts flow from the fist back to the palm, from condensation to diffusion, from shell back to mist.

The entire process was seamless and smooth, requiring no conscious effort from him... Nian knew exactly where he was going.

Feeling the Nen that he could control like an extension of his own body, Roy suddenly remembered what Bisky had said a few days ago in the canyon: "Being able to release Nen is not a skill. Being able to release it, and then take it back, and control it at will... that is the beginning of a Nen user."

He initially thought that "being able to control oneself" referred to the ability to manage oneself.

It can release thoughts, and it can also bring them back, preventing them from dissipating in vain or running rampant out of control.

Now he knows.

Being able to control oneself is not just about having power; it's about trust.

It is the trust between thought and will.

He wasn't using Nen; he was fighting alongside Nen.

Roy raised his head and looked back at the circular arena in the center of the arena.

Sunlight streamed through the glass of the dome, casting a bright, edgeless patch of light onto the dark green cushion.

He suddenly realized that the light wasn't illuminating the arena, but rather a path he had never been able to see before, but was now finally beginning to see.

"Boss! It's downloaded!"

Fica's voice came from afar, and the red-haired boy ran towards Roy waving two betting slips in his hand like two flags.

His face was flushed, whether from running or excitement, I couldn't tell, and his eyes shone like two stars that had just been polished.

"I bet everything! My entire fortune! Not a single penny left!"

He stopped in front of Roy, panting, and said, "I'm completely broke now, I don't even have money to buy a bottle of water..."

"...So boss, you absolutely have to win!"

Roy looked at him, his silver-gray eyes reflecting Fika's face flushed with excitement. He smiled. "I won't let you lose..."

'

It's not that we won't lose, it's that we won't let you lose.

A difference of just one word can have completely different meanings.

The former is a commitment to oneself, while the latter is a commitment to one's companions.

A promise to oneself can be discounted, but a promise to a partner cannot.

Fica paused for a moment, then grinned.

That smile was so genuine and bright, like the color of his red hair, it made your eyes sting.

"Alright, stop getting sentimental."

Roy withdrew his gaze and turned to walk towards the arena.

"Go sit in the audience seats, don't stand there blocking the way."

"I wasn't being sentimental!"

Fica followed behind, her steps much lighter.

"Boss, you're the one who's getting more and more mushy with your words."

""

"Shut up."

"Okay, okay, shut up, shut up..."

""

Just as the two were arguing, a discordant voice interrupted them.

"Um... is my opponent this time... you?"

Roy and Fica turned their heads at the same time.

A middle-aged man wearing an old tan jacket and holding a can of beverage stood three steps away, looking at them somewhat awkwardly.

"Who are you? Spectators aren't allowed in the players' rest area."

After sizing up the middle-aged man who had spoken, Fica asked a question instead of answering.

"Ah, no... no, I'm not in the audience."

The middle-aged man quickly waved his hand, his movements somewhat exaggerated, causing the beverage can in his hand to shake and almost spill the alcohol.

He nervously steadied the jar with his other hand, then gave an awkward smile: "I just wanted to confirm who my opponent is, because this should be my last match... I can't possibly make it to the 200th floor; I almost didn't survive every time I went..."

"every time?"

Fica frowned and muttered something in confusion.

"When you say 'every time,' you mean you've typed it in many times."

The middle-aged man raised his right hand, extended three fingers, counted, and said, "..."

"I've gone up there three times... but each time I almost died... so this time I've decided that no matter who my opponent is, I'll just admit defeat and never go up again..."

""

As he spoke, he took two steps forward, reached out, and handed the can of drink to Roy.

"Um... my name is Dongba. Since this is our first meeting, I don't have much to give you, so here's a drink as a small gift."

It was an ordinary can of carbonated beverage that you could find anywhere in a convenience store.

The aluminum can still had refrigerated water droplets on its surface, and a few drops of liquid slid down the can wall and dripped onto Dongba's fingers.

Roy looked down at the can of drink and didn't take it.

Fica leaned closer, glanced at the can of drink, then at Dongba, and frowned. "You're acting strange. Giving your opponent a drink in the ring?"

Dongba's smile froze for a moment, but quickly returned to normal.

He scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed, and said, "Well... since I'm not planning to win this time anyway, I might as well make some friends. After all, it's always better to have one more friend than one more enemy, right?"