HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

A staff member at the Heavens Arena casually glanced toward the corner and suddenly froze, eyes wide with shock, their jaw almost hitting the floor.

What was that on the ground? A... human head.

And the spreading red stain? Blood.

Blood flowing out from the neck of a headless corpse.

The floor's stained again! Cleaning this up is going to be such a hassle!

"Hey, you—" The staff member instinctively spoke up, striding toward the scene of the crime.

The perpetrator looked very familiar: white hair, blue eyes, black tattoos on both his face and hands—the Heavens Arena's newest rising star with insane popularity.

Known not only for his exceptional skills at such a young age but also for his mischievous habit of taunting his opponents with relentless trash talk during battles.

Of course, the primary reason for his fame might just be the fact that his face alone could outshine the combined charm of every Heavens Arena fighter.

"This is a wanted criminal," Cyr said lazily, standing there with his phone in hand, completely at ease and unbothered.

"No, what I mean is—could you maybe choose a different spot next time? If someone walks through here, they'll track bloody footprints all over the place!" The staff member's tone was stern.

That… priority. Only someone working in the Heavens Arena could focus on such a thing.

However—

An invisible slash grazed the staff member's cheek and struck the floor behind him, leaving a deep crack.

"I don't need you to tell me how to do things," Cyr said in a low voice, his cold, sky-blue eyes—praised by many as rare and breathtaking, like precious gemstones—fixing on the staff member.

Those eyes didn't just represent beauty.

They were the embodiment of beauty paired with endless danger.

Faced with such eyes, the staff member's body began to tremble uncontrollably.

"I'll let you off this time. There won't be a next," Cyr muttered indifferently, shifting his gaze away.

The staff member silently fetched cleaning tools and diligently began scrubbing the floor, not uttering another word.

He had nearly forgotten—anyone who made it to the 200th floor of the Heavens Arena was never the kind of person you could reason with...

The Heavens Arena held a unique position in this world, to the point where even the police acted low-key when stepping inside, refraining from wearing uniforms.

Wait... Did the police even have uniforms in this world? Probably, right?

As Cyr watched the officers efficiently remove the corpse, he pondered this trivial thought.

Soon enough, the fifty million bounty hit his account. Pulling out his phone, he began reviewing the details of his next target.

"Next up is—"

"Chad the Flayer. Six foot four, bald, enjoys skinning beautiful people to keep their skins as trophies…"

"Wow. What a creep."Cyr commented flatly.

This world certainly wasn't short on twisted individuals.

Collecting body parts... Honestly, he found it a bit disgusting.

Well, everyone has their quirks, their preferences. Cyr didn't understand, but he could tolerate it.

"This guy's hobby is gambling? Every time he gets caught, it's because he gambled too much at a casino and lost his cool?"

"…The life of a degenerate gambler. Truly a tale of downfall," Cyr said, shaking his head in disdain.

"Then let's try our luck at a nearby casino," Cyr said, striding toward the main gates of the Heavens Arena.

Of course, he could test his luck as well...

But with Six Eyes, it'd be pretty hard to lose at any gambling table.

Not that he was particularly fond of gambling himself…

His father once lost thirty million in a single night at the gambling table. Afterward, he developed a gambling addiction and continued losing more over time.

Ever since then, Cyr believed one thing: gamblers couldn't be trusted, not a word they said.

…

Casinos weren't often found operating openly and legally. Most were small underground establishments.

In those small joints, a few hundred thousand—or at most a million—would be the upper limit for any betting table.

But the casinos that ran out in the open, in plain view, clearly had significant backing. Naturally, the stakes were much higher, too.

If someone was a true gambler, there was no way they'd settle for playing at some backwater gambling den.

That's why customers like Cyr weren't exactly welcome in such establishments.

Standing in his way was a tall, burly security guard in a black suit who looked every inch a mafia enforcer. His expression showed outright disapproval.

So... a minor could earn a Hunter's License, brave life-and-death situations, but couldn't enter a casino?

Seriously, was that fair?

Cyr didn't even bother lifting his gaze to look at the man, confidently ignoring him as he continued walking forward.

The security guard moved to block him again, but before he could, Maro, who had been silent until now, stepped in front of him.

"Move. Don't block the way," Maro snapped, his tone icy.

Something flashed in Maro's hand, so quickly it was barely visible. The moment the guard saw it, his eyes glazed over for a second before he immediately bowed his head in deference.

A member of the Pelisha family? And yet... he was acting like a subordinate, following behind that white-haired boy?

The guard picked up his walkie-talkie to report.

"A Pelisha family member has appeared. I'm not sure which one, but I'm certain of his identity. He showed proof—something only Pelisha family members possess…"

"He isn't alone. It seems he's accompanying a white-haired boy as if he were his subordinate…"

"Understood. I'll inform the staff in the main hall to keep an eye on them."

Meanwhile, Cyr and Maro had already stepped inside the casino.

The interior was a sea of gold. It felt like the entire building was constructed from solid gold. The air carried a nauseating mixture of alcohol, cigarette smoke, and incense, along with an unusually high oxygen concentration.

In this oxygen-rich environment, everyone's faces were flushed red, a testament to the casino's subtle manipulation of their surroundings.

The scene was enough to make one's blood boil, filling them with inexplicable excitement.

Of course, those with less sensitive noses probably wouldn't notice the heavy mixture of smells. The building also had a ventilation and air-conditioning system in place, maintaining a steady temperature.

The dealers, meanwhile, were either dressed sharply in suits or adorned in high-slit, seductive dresses.

Their smiles were all eerily uniform, as if meticulously trained to perfection.

"Your demeanor back there wasn't bad," Cyr remarked casually, not even turning his head as he complimented Maro, who followed behind him.

"...I learned it from watching my siblings," the blond-haired young man replied, sounding a little embarrassed by the praise.

In his memories, his brothers and sisters always acted with the same reckless arrogance and pride.

For Maro, the haughty demeanor of adults seemed natural and commanding, impossible to look away from. But his siblings' arrogance was repulsive to him.

Even though he was an illegitimate child, he was still a Pelisha family member. From a young age, he'd been afforded the same privileges as any other "young master," though the only ones who bullied him were his siblings.

His siblings' arrogance was often said to resemble their father. Meanwhile, Maro's perceived weakness was dismissed as shameful and pitiful.

"Keep that attitude up," Cyr said lightly.

Did the master really think what he did earlier was good?

"Understood." Maro lowered his gaze, but the deep-seated weakness lingering in his expression wasn't so easily erased.

"Keep an eye out for Chad, and while you're at it, exchange one hundred million for chips for me," Cyr instructed casually as he found an open seat at a gambling table and sat down.

"Got it," Maro replied, bowing slightly before heading off.

He moved through the casino with practiced ease, quickly locating the area where chips could be exchanged.

°°°

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