Hunter x Hunter: The Strongest Zoldyck

Chapter 122 The Killer's Eyes

Thump! Thump! Thump! ...

Dongba was so frightened by Roy's words that he took several steps back. He tried to distance himself from Roy again, as if only in this way could he gain a little sense of security.

"You mean... my feeling just now wasn't wrong...?"

1

Dongba stammered out a sentence, his eyes wide open, not daring to close them at all, because if he closed them, the illusion of being pierced through the brow would keep appearing before his eyes, like a videotape playing on repeat.

Roy stood still, neither pursuing nor making any new moves. He simply wagged his raised index finger: "That was just a warning. If you don't admit defeat..."

"7

At this point, Roy paused, then gently tapped the air with his right index finger.

"Trust me... I will make your dreams a reality."

"hiss!"

Dongba groaned softly. With a jolt from Luo Yi's right hand, he seemed to feel a stinging pain on his forehead again and couldn't help but cry out.

As he cried out, he realized he wasn't injured, and his groan abruptly stopped, as if an invisible hand had grabbed his neck, cutting off even the last syllable, stuck in his throat, turning into a faint, squeaking sound like a mouse.

However, Dongba wasn't overly bothered by this...

It wasn't that he didn't want to be angry, it was because he... dared not.

He sensed something in Roy's gaze... not anger, not a threat, not condescending contempt, but a more thorough, chilling indifference to life itself.

Whether you are alive or dead makes no difference to the owner of this gaze.

But if you block his way, he will walk over you, not step over you, but walk over you, like walking over an open space, like walking over a dead tree, like walking over a stone that does not exist in his world.

This kind of... look is not unfamiliar to Dongba.

He had seen it many times in the underground passages of the Sky Arena, in the dark, hidden corners, on the faces of those who had lost everything, bet their entire fortunes, and ultimately lost even their lives.

That was the look in a murderer's eyes.

It's not that he can kill, nor that he has killed anyone, but that killing is as natural to him as breathing, requiring no thought.

When he realized this... Dongba's legs... went weak!

It's not a sudden weakness, but a slow, inch-by-inch descent, with the knees bending first, then the waist bending, and then the shoulders collapsing.

Finally, he collapsed like a lump of asphalt melted by the sun, slumped against the ropes of the ring.

A moment later, he released his hand from his forehead, braced himself with both hands on either side of his body to steady his still trembling body, and slowly straightened up.

"I... admit defeat."

The three words were spoken by Dongba slowly yet urgently.

Like being afraid of waking a sleeping beast, or being pounced on by the beast if you speak too slowly.

Tap tap tap....

The referee ran over, stood beside Dongba, and whispered to ask his opinion. After receiving confirmation, he raised his right hand: "Dongba concedes!"

"The winner... Roy!"

A buzz of discussion arose in the stands. Some people stood up and applauded, some shook their heads and sighed, and some tore their betting slips into pieces and scattered them into the air, like a small-scale, cheap snowfall.

Roy didn't look at those.

He simply walked slowly toward Dongba, his steps unhurried and deliberate, carrying an indescribable charm.

A few steps later, Roy arrived in front of Dongba. He raised his head and coldly glanced at the middle-aged man in front of him, saying, "From today onwards, don't let me see you again..."

'

"Otherwise... next time..."

Roy didn't finish his sentence, but Tonpa already understood. His shoulders hunched, and he nodded frantically, "I promise... I promise I will never appear before you again!"

Dongba spoke rapidly and urgently, as if afraid that if he spoke too slowly, the finger would strike his brow again.

Roy looked away and walked past him.

The hem of the coat lightly brushed against Dongba's arm, and Dongba recoiled as if he had been electrocuted, his back hitting the ropes, bouncing back, then shrinking again, like an insect cornered against a wall.

He kept his head down, his upper body almost bent at a ninety-degree angle, staring intently at the tips of his shoes, not daring to breathe.

Only when the worn-out shoes completely disappeared from his sight, and when the sound of footsteps was swallowed up by the noise from the stands, did he dare to slightly raise his head and glance at the direction of the corridor out of the corner of his eye.

It was empty; there was no one there.

"That was close..."

""

Dongba wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice hoarse as if it had been scraped off sandpaper.

He huddled in the center of the ring, hugging his knees, his whole body trembling like a withered leaf swept up by the autumn wind.

Cold sweat had soaked through the back of my workout clothes, dark wet stains spreading from the collar to my waist. The whole garment clung to my skin, feeling cold and sticky.

The referee ran over from the sidelines, squatted down beside Dongba, patted him on the shoulder, and asked in a low voice, "Do you need a doctor?"

Dongba didn't answer. He leaned back slightly...

Bang!

He fell flat on the ring, the back of his head gently hitting the cushion with a dull thud.

He stared with his eyes open at the sky above the dome, which was divided into countless fragments by glass.

Sunlight streamed through the fragments, falling on his face, his chest, and his trembling hands that could no longer be clenched into fists.

The light was warm, but he felt cold.

The cold seeps out from between your bones.

Roy walked out of the ring area.

Fica was waiting for him at the door. The red-haired boy leaned against the wall, still clutching the two betting slips in his hand, which were already wrinkled from being soaked in sweat.

He opened his mouth, as if to ask something, but when he looked at Roy's face, it was expressionless—neither cold nor hot, neither happy nor angry...

He shut his mouth again.

I didn't ask anything.

He simply followed silently behind Roy, and the two entered the elevator one after the other.

The elevator doors closed.

The elevator car shook slightly and began to rise. The numbers jumped: 199, 200.

Ding!

Two hundred floors, we've arrived.

The moment the door opened, a girl in a pale yellow dress stood at the end of the corridor.

It's Serapika!

She stood there quietly, her hands hanging at her sides, her long, pale golden hair cascading down her shoulders, gleaming softly in the lamplight.

Azure eyes followed Roy as he stepped out of the elevator, from top to bottom, from his short, silver-white hair to his worn-out shoes, and then back up to his face.

"You're here?" she said.

"Here we are," Roy said.

Fica peeked out from behind Roy and waved to Serapika: "I'm here too!"

Serapika glanced at him without saying anything, but her lips twitched slightly as a greeting.