Hunter x Hunter: The Strongest Zoldyck

Chapter 133 Yorknew City

Biscuit pulled the lollipop out of her mouth, twirled it in her hand, and the candy gleamed under the light.

"but..

'

Bisky's voice suddenly lowered, so low that only Roy could hear it.

"Special ability types often defy logic."

She reached out her left hand and picked up the glass of water on the table. At the bottom of the glass was a sphere that had been compressed into a jelly-like shape.

She flicked it lightly with her fingernail, and the ball bounced twice on the bottom of the cup, making a "pop" sound.

"You compressed the water and it spoiled."

"It's not about increasing the amount of water, changing its color, or freezing it; it's about making it denser, heavier, harder, and giving it properties it didn't have before."

59

"elasticity..

77

Setting the cup down, Bisky stared intently at Roy with her emerald green eyes: "This shows that your Nen is inherently characterized by the properties of concentration, compression, and tension."

"Just like your fighting style, don't waste a single ounce of energy, don't lose a single ounce of focus, just throw everything into that one punch."

She paused for a moment, as if organizing her thoughts.

"But there's a problem."

"What's the problem?"

Roy's voice sounded a little hoarse.

"All you can do now is use brute force."

Bisky was very direct and blunt.

"Your physical limits are indeed impressive, but that's using your body as a consumable."

"Sixty percent? You know the consequences yourself."

"Your little finger is completely broken, your right arm ligaments are torn, and your back is riddled with holes from playing cards."

She held up three fingers: "How many more times can you last? Three times? Twice? Or just once?"

Roy didn't speak.

He knew Bisky was right.

"Recitation... is not something that can be achieved through brute force, but through rules."

"And you still... don't understand the rules."

Bisky put the lollipop back in her mouth and mumbled, "You need to lay a solid foundation first. You can't miss any of the five basic application techniques: wrapping, firming, flowing, hardening, and solidifying."

"You must master these application skills, and then..."

9

She walked to the window, drew back the curtains, and sunlight streamed in, illuminating the entire room.

"When you can maintain your erection for more than an hour, when your hardness can be concentrated in any part of your body in an instant, then... your mind can enter the next stage... the development of your energy."

Bisky turned around, her emerald green eyes reflecting Roy's pale face.

"Remember, specialization-based Nen isn't something you learn through practice, it's something you develop through thinking."

"You need to figure out what you really want."

"When you've thought it through... your thoughts will give you the answer you're looking for."

pat!

Bisky jumped down from the windowsill, dusted off non-existent dust from her skirt, walked to the door, and then stopped.

"By the way, use your free time to take the Hunter Exam. Everyone in our Shingen-ryu school is a Hunter."

Bisky's figure gradually disappeared into the distance, but her voice still lingered: "You should know that the president of the Hunter Association is the founder of our Heart Source School."

5

"Netero!"

"So obtaining your hunter's license is your sect's first task for you. Once you complete it, I'll take you back to your ancestral home to meet that old man. If not..."

"You should... withdraw from the sect on your own."

After saying that, she walked out.

Her blonde twin ponytails swung at the doorway, like a fluttering flag.

Yun Gu followed behind, pushed up his glasses, glanced at Luo Yi, and his lips twitched as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to say it, so he just nodded slightly, closed the door, and went out together.

The lounge fell silent immediately.

Only Fica, Serapika, and Roy remained.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Roy got up from the bed.

The bandage on my right hand was blindingly white under the light, and the splint on my little finger held it in place, preventing me from bending it.

He pulled his legs out of the blanket and stepped barefoot onto the floor. The floor was cold, and a refreshing coolness rose up from the soles of his feet.

He walked to the window and looked at the unbelievably blue sky outside.

"I'm leaving too, boss."

Fica's voice came from behind, strangely low, as if afraid of being overheard.

Roy turned around and saw that the red-haired boy had already put the gray backpack on his shoulder.

The backpack was bulging and stuffed full.

Fika's eyes were red, but she didn't cry.

He nodded vigorously, as if speaking to Roy, but also as if speaking to himself.

"Boss, next time we meet, I promise I won't hold you back."

Roy nodded, reached out, and patted Fica on the shoulder.

"Go ahead, I'll be waiting for our next meeting."

Tap tap tap...

Fica turned around and strode out.

His red hair flashed one last time at the doorway, like a flame receding into the distance.

As Serapika saw the red-haired boy's departing figure reflected in her eyes, she felt that he was somewhat different, less arrogant and more composed.

He seems to have grown up overnight.

A questioning look flashed across her eyes. She looked away, walked slowly towards Luo Yi, bowed slightly, and said, "Boss, I'm leaving too."

Serapika raised his head, glanced at Roy's thin back, then turned and walked resolutely toward the gate: "Boss, you can come visit the Kurta tribe when you have time. You know how to contact me."

As she walked, Serapika gave a brief instruction without turning her head.

"Okay," Roy replied calmly.

His expression was calm and ordinary, seemingly without any fluctuation, but his slightly clenched palms and trembling calves all indicated that he was not as indifferent and calm as he appeared.

Unfortunately... they didn't see it.

A few seconds later, Serapika walked out without looking back.

She was afraid that if she turned around, she wouldn't be able to control herself...

A moment later, the lounge fell silent again. Roy stood alone by the window, looking at the unbelievably blue sky outside.

The white clouds drifted slowly, unhurried, seemingly unsure of where they were headed.

His right hand was still wrapped in bandages, and the splint on his little finger was blindingly white in the sunlight.

He held his right hand up to his eyes and looked at it for a long time.

Clench your fist, then relax it.

Youkexin, Underground Auction, Phantom Troupe No. 4.

This was a message Wutong gave him privately: in half a month, the Phantom Troupe's number four would be robbing a rare item at the scene.

"To think he would act alone... should we say he's incredibly skilled and daring, or is he simply...?"

"

"stupid!"

Turning around, Roy picked up the water glass from the bedside table and took a sip.

The water was cool, sliding down my throat into my stomach, carrying a faint, indescribable taste.

"Wait for me, my first time being killed by a plot device."

Looking out the window at the scenery, Roy raised his water glass as if savoring a victory of champagne.

The next morning, Roy was discharged from the hospital.

The bandages and splint on my right hand have been removed. My little finger still can't bend, but the doctor said it will be fine in a few days.

The wound on my back has scabbed over, and there's still a slight pulling sensation when I move, but it's nothing serious.

He simply changed into a clean, dark coat, stuffed the few clothes he had with him into a black backpack, zipped it up, and slung it over his shoulder.

Then he neatly bid farewell to the room where he had stayed for several days, and at the same time, he secretly etched a few words on the wall with his mind: "Roy Zoldyck... Heaven's Arena... Check-in successful!"

Below this line of text is a scissor-hand gesture.

As citizens of this great foodie empire, visiting tourist attractions is something deeply ingrained in our very souls.

Using mind-based check-in is a safe, environmentally friendly, and pollution-free option for Bel.

Bang!

As he stepped out of the Sky Arena, sunlight streamed down from above, making his eyes sting.

He unconsciously squinted and looked up through the slits at the towering building that seemed to reach into the clouds—991 meters tall, 251 stories high.

He played sixteen matches, going from the first floor to the two hundredth floor.

He could have initiated the landlord challenge if he had won ten more matches, which would have been a great honor for a martial artist.

But he didn't want to fight anymore.

One hundred floors wasn't his goal, nor was two hundred, nor was he the boss of the Sky Arena...

After all, he wasn't a martial artist! The holy land of martial artists meant nothing to him.

Turning around, Roy walked towards the station, showing no lingering attachment to the place.

The train journey from Tramia to Yokossin takes three days and two nights.

Roy bought a hard seat ticket, not because he couldn't afford a sleeper berth, but because he wanted to sit in a hard seat.

The hard-seat carriage was crowded and noisy, with all sorts of smells mixed together: sweat, instant noodles, cigarettes, cheap perfume. All of this gave Luo Yi a real sense that he was still alive.

He chose a seat by the window, his silver-gray eyes gazing quietly at the fields and villages rushing past outside.

The setting sun dyed the sky orange-red, and on a distant hill stood a lone tree, bent to one side by the wind.

His right hand was still wrapped in bandages, and the splint on his little finger gleamed warmly in the setting sun.

He placed his right hand on his knee and watched the scenery outside the window change from orange-red to dark purple, and from dark purple to deep black.

The lights in the carriage came on, some people started eating instant noodles, some people leaned back in their seats and dozed off, a child was running around in the aisle, was pulled back by his mother, cried a couple of times, and then fell silent.

Roy closed his eyes.

Bisky's words echoed in my mind: You need to figure out what you really want.

The day you figure it out, your thoughts will give you the answer.

What do I want? To become stronger?

Become the world's strongest hunter?

To live a free and unrestrained life?

It seems like these are all things he wants, but not what he truly desires.

What is it that I want most...?

Roy opened his eyes, and his blurry face was reflected in the car window.

White hair, silver eyes, pale skin.

He looked exactly like a Zoldyck, but it wasn't what he wanted. He didn't know what he wanted most, but at least he knew what he didn't want.

He didn't want to become... a Zoldyck assassin!

The train traveled through the night, the clanging of the rails like a lullaby without melody.

Roy gently leaned against the window, closed her eyes, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

There was no Hisoka, no Yggdrasil, no Zoldyck in my dream.

There was only one large, empty square.

There is a large tree in the center of the square, and its shadow is very long.

He stood in the shade of a tree, looking up at the sky, which was incredibly blue.

Three days later, Roy got off the train at Youkexin Station.

The platform was bustling with people: some dragging suitcases, some holding signs, some making phone calls, some smoking, and some waiting for someone.

He weaved through the crowd, shoulders brushing against shoulders, backpacks bumping against backpacks, and no one noticed him.

Stepping out of the station and standing in the square, the bright sunlight made him squint.

Youkexin.

It's a huge city, with viaducts running between buildings and trams rumbling along them.

The GG tag had a poster for an underground auction pasted on it, including the time, location, precautions, and a line of smaller print:

Uninvited guests are not permitted entry.

Roy glanced at the poster, memorized the time and place, and then turned and walked into a narrow alley.

The alley was so narrow that it was cramped for two people to walk side by side.

There was graffiti on the walls, puddles on the ground, and a damp, musty smell in the air.

He walked to the end of the alley, pushed open an iron gate, and entered an inconspicuous little hotel.

The old lady behind the counter glanced at him, handed him a key, and didn't ask how many days he wanted to stay.

Roy took the key and went up the stairs, the wooden planks creaking under his feet.

The room was small, with a bed, a table, and a wardrobe. The window faced an alley, so the light was poor, but it was very quiet.

Roy put his backpack on the bed, pulled back the curtain, and stood by the window to look outside.

Across the alley is a wall covered in graffiti, depicting a distorted face that is indistinguishable between crying and laughing.

Roy lowered the curtains, sat on the bed, and removed the bandage from her right hand.

My little finger no longer hurts, but I still can't bend it; if I do, it feels sore and swollen.

He folded the bandages, placed them on the table, then lay back and stared at the ceiling.

There was a thin crack in the ceiling, starting next to the light fixture and extending to the corner of the wall, like a dried-up river.

Phantom Troupe No. 4.

He needs to find clues before the auction begins.

Roy closed his eyes.

Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, falling on his face, his white hair, and his hands resting on his knees.

His fingers curled slightly, not in a spasm, but in preparation.

Outside the window, the night scene at Youkexin glowed with an unreal red light under the neon lights.

Roy sat up in bed and tightened the bandage on his right hand again, wrapping it evenly from his wrist to the base of his fingers, adding two extra wraps around his little finger.

The splint has been removed, but my little finger still can't fully straighten. There's a sore and swollen feeling when I bend and straighten it, like something is stuck inside the joint.

He stood up, walked to the window, and pulled the curtains open a crack.

There was no one in the alley, only a dim streetlamp shining on the wall. Under the light, a stray cat squatted next to a trash can, its eyes glowing green. It glanced at Roy, then jumped down from the trash can and disappeared into the shadows across the street.

Roy lowered the curtains, turned around, picked up the black backpack on the bed, unzipped it, and pulled out a crumpled map.

The panoramic view of Yoker City, with its streets, buildings, underground passages, and subway lines, is so densely packed with lines and markings that it's dazzling to look at.

He had already memorized this map when he was in Sky Arena, but he still took it out and looked at it again.

The underground auction venue is located in the underground shopping street in the center of Youkexin City. It's not hard to find, but it's hard to get in.

Uninvited guests are not permitted entry; that line of small print on the poster is not just something casually written.

According to the information provided by Wutong, the security for the auction was handled by the "Yin Beasts" under the Ten Elders. Those people were Nen users, and although they were not as powerful as the Phantom Troupe, they were definitely not people that ordinary people could deal with.

Roy folded the map, put it back in his backpack, zipped it up, and placed the backpack at the foot of the bed.

He pulled a crumpled train ticket out of his pocket, glanced at the date on it, and saw there were still twelve days left.

The auction began twelve days later.

He needs to find clues about Phantom Troupe Number Four within these twelve days, then target him on the day of the auction and make his move in a secluded place.

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