A/N: I am going to change this into a journal writing style story. Once I have the time I will go back and fix chapter one, but since nobody objects (or reads this..) I will continue with a entry style. It doesn't necessarily have dates, but just one adventure after the other.

Chapter 2

I.

I have used up around 5 pages of this notebook now. It isn't particularly thick or thin, therefore I think I should save a little paper when I'm writing on it. I am surprised I can still write in English, because that language here, in this world, is a bunch of rubbish.

However the idea of writing in a secret language that only I can recognize is fascinating. People can see me writing furiously when I was on the airship, but they assumed I was so ethnic that they couldn't tell which language I was writing from. Everyone in this world look all sorts of crazy and nobody made a fuss about it. There are people with wild colored hair that made me gawk. Although I understand this is all based on a person's fantasy, I think everything goes.

What I don't understand, is how I came to this world.

I explained in my previous entries that I left the world that this body's family originated, but I couldn't help but felt so sorry about them. They are so poor and yet they have so much money to feed. I probably took their savings too.

So I found my calling. I'm going to earn a lot of money, and eventually I will provide them with luxury. At least, away from destitution.

After establishing this fact, I reminded myself once again that I am in the world of Hunter x Hunter.

What should I do-I don't have any ability of any sort, therefore I may as well get smashed before I even come close to anyone who appeared in the series.

So... I should stay away from anybody major in the series.

I tried very hard to rack my brain on what their distinctive feature looks like. The two protagonists are very easy to identify, that's for sure. Then there is Kuripika, Leorio, and the rest. Especially the Phantom Troupe, or the Chimera Ants.

Oh my god, there are chance that the Chimera Ant arc haven't happened yet, so if I get caught up in that, I am as good as ant meat.

When this occurred to me, I went to a newspaper stand and asked the cashier, "So, Chimera Ants. What do you know much about them?"

He also looked at me in a strange way, "That happened four years ago."

So concluded two things. First, everything that has happened, I know, but I am missing four years. A lot can happen in four years! And everything that is going to happen in the future-I don't know anything about them at all. I have no lead advantage in this place!

Yes, that's right. It did occur to me that if I met someone who could potentially threaten my freedom, I could bribe them with the rough outline of their future. Now I don't even have that chip in my hand, I am in a dangerous world with no money, no shelter, no food (I finished the sandwiches six hours ago), and I am hungry.

Now I look at the money in my hands, they were in Piel, the currency of my original country. Now I went to a bank and converted them into Jennies. Despite the fact that first I asked to convert them into "dollars" and they thought that somewhere in some asylum they were wonder they are missing its top priority idiot.

I have a total of three thousand Jennies left, and from the look of the prices in the store I checked out, there is no way it is enough to even last me a week.

Things were not supposed to be like this. I used to live in a nice house in a luxury neighbor hood. With my parents and my brother. A flash of memory just entered my mind, and it was the first time I saw our house. It was white with red edges, therefore making the entire thing look pink. There was a huge round stair case window, making it looked like a castle. I used to sit there and write away-silly things such as stories and poems.

Now I am facing poverty.

I have got to make some money soon.

To think that back in my own world I am in my university and discussing literary topics and insights to the world. We ascend above the physical need of ourselves and focused only on the abstract ideas that shaped our understanding in the etimology of-everything. Now, I need money and all I could think about is how to make more, make more, more, and more. This puts me at the level of nothing short of an ugly business man and I despise that.

What I despise is completely irrelevant to my needs at the moment. My hunger and thirst are first piority, and it's ironic and sad at the same time that at the face of hunger, all ideas and moral transcendence flew out of the window.

I wondered around the Airport (I know, same name for ports that recieve and send out flying things) and wonder if I should find a place to live first. After all, it's noon and shelter is of the utmost importance.

That was when I saw a blue poster-

The poster was blue solely because of the very pretty cover girl that enlarged and taken up most of the poster. Her hair was blue on that poster, therefore the poster looked blue entirely from a distance. There are equally distinctive red colored font at the bottom (but nowhere nearly as big), "HEAVEN ARENA, RECRUITING AMBITIOUS FIGHTERS AND EMPLOYEES!"

Now I don't know which is which for that girl on the poster, but I'd take a wager and bet that she has never fight anyone who uses nen in her entire life-because the proof was that she was alive during the making of this poster.

At first I walked past the poster, thinking that I would never be within a ten mile radius of that place, until the last word resonated on my mind.

I slowly walked back to the poster and read the fine lines and descriptions of that printed on the bottom of that poster, it says that for further information, please call this number, the date of the poster, and the address of the arena. After jotting it all down on a scrap piece of paper I torn out from this notebook, I looked around and saw a rich looking girl who was playing an phone game. That phone suspiciously looked like an iPhone, which is nonsense because I doubt iPhone existed at the time of Hunter x Hunter's existence. But again, this world aged four years since I last known it, and perhaps the HH version of Steve Jobs had an "apple" idea that changed the world too.

I asked her very kindly if I could use her phone and call that number. She was more than happy to lend it to me, and I was very grateful. Partly because she was the first nice person I encountered since I started the journey, because all others thought I was insane. But the pity look in her eyes I didn't care for, but I pressed that sinking feeling down knowing full well I deserved that look. Note to self, wash hair and condition more often-once I find a job.

So I called the number. A very corporate and sweet female voice greeted.

"Hello, I just wanted to ask about the employing hiring information..." I asked a bit nervously. I have not had much experience in the job market even in the previous world.

The voice replied very helpfully, "Of course! Are you looking for employment within which branch of the Heaven Arena?"

I said very humbly, "The branch that doesn't require much requirement. I mean, I graduated and all but-"

It then hit me like a hammer that I don't have a bachelor's certificate in this world.

And that was so important to me that I wanted to wail and cry my head off. Causing my voice to whimper for the sentence, "I just want to find a fast and stable employment, I am very loyal and..."

The sentence trailed off because I wallowed myself in the fact that I am not even a semi educated person in this world.

The girl on the other line must've had some personal pathos for me, because she quickly replied, "I can tell you that our customer service industry is looking for hire right now. They are in constant need of people, but this job is very demanding and requires the interviewers to have immense patience and excellent manners-"

"Both of which I am in substantial excess of!" I inserted in.

She continued, "also there are a certain danger to this job since the employees are required to interact with fighters on a daily basis, but very little life threatening cases are reported throughout the last fifty years-"

I was surprised this business lasted even fifty years. But I didn't voice that.

"-The training period is around a two weeks, after which you will be assigned to the specific jobs you are best fitted to be in."

"Examples?" I asked.

"Such as front desk, door guarding, page, usher, lobby girl..."

I then understood. This is a labour job.

Then I asked, "you said the hiring success rate of this was...?"

"Unless the interviewer has a criminal felony, a mental disease, or a severally handicapped..."

I thought about it, then asked, "What is the application process?"

"You can register your name into our databases either through internet or fax or phone. Please attach a resume and cover letter, along with any qualifications you might want to mention that will be beneficial to your application."

"Is it ok if I register my name right now, and will send in my resume within the hour?"

"Of course, let me transfer you to our department of HR."

I performed the process necessary to get my name in their system, while handing the phone back to its owner, I ripped off the poster from its wall, folded neatly so that it's address shown on the top, and put it in my bundle. After that, I went to the nearest airport computer and typed up the best resume and cover letter I could bullshit in an hour-putting an emphasis on the fact that I do not gave too much of a regard to my personal safety and could come into close contact with the fighters-and sent it in.

Then I waited in line to get a ticket to the east side of Padokea and found in dismay that I only have around one thousand Jenny left. One thousand Jenny can be the following, according to my calculations: a pair of nice shoes, a new outfit, three books, or five meals.

However, if I spend it all on shelter, I will starve in a room with not even a penny left in my pocket.

So I am glad that as I am writing this, the meal that is included in the airship ticket came, and it's not that disgusting. I will ask for extra portion if allowed. It is at time like this I wish I can have a hidden cloak to shrink and enlarge anything. At the moment I wish to enlarge a cheese burger.

II.

Right now I am sitting on the steps of City Hall. It's around three in the morning and I couldn't sleep because of the chill. This part of the country seemed to have a drastic change in weather, and at night it's a bit chilly. I already layered up every clothing I have in my bundle and pray that I won't get a cold tonight.

There are several other people also sitting on the steps of city hall, but the difference between me and them is that they hold signs in their hands for protest, and I am prepared to go into those doors and beg like hell.

Today was not a good day for me. I got off the airship, and it's already around 9 at night. I walked for an hour to get to the arena to save on fare, and asked them to rush to process my application. They agreed, and informed me that my interview is at nine the day after tomorrow, and meanwhile, since I am a refugee, I should apply for help from the government.

I stared as they used the word "refugee", and before I could open my mouth up to say I'm not, they asked, "You are from East Gorteau, are you not?"

I can't argue with that, and besides I desperately need a place to stay. When I got here, City Hall already closed, so I at here and didn't know what to do. Around an hour later I fell asleep, and woke up in the middle of the night, tired, cramped, cranky, and blaming the goddamn world.

It is so difficult to survive when you are just cruelly thrown here, and there was no beginning and I was not given an opportunity. At least I should wake up in Whale Island or something, found my Mito, and being fed delicious food until I'm on my feet; instead of being in a poor family who couldn't wait to get rid of me.

Now that I'm up anyways, I should begin on organizing my memory of this place.

After an hour, I composed a list of dangerous people-and it has more than thirty names on there. Basically all the hunters I remember the name of. Including Gon and Killua.

Although I am extremely curious of how they turned out-it is actually four years later. Now they must be 17 or 18, and they must be amazingly strong now.

Then there are the very dangerous ones. Such as Kuripka, Biscuit, Palm, and the Zodiacs. They may be on the side of the good, but they are too much associated with evil.

Then there are the people I'd rather kill myself directly before I catch a sight of them-Killua's family, Phantom, and Hisoka.

But I must be thinking too highly of myself. Hisoka is a maniac who gets aroused at the sight of power. I am nothing.

I should get more sleep, because my head is spinning now and I could feel my bare hands getting numb from the cold. I can barely hold my pen straight-before that, I should tie my bundle around me so that nobody can untie it without waking me up.

III.

It's been more than a week since I have picked up a pen and write something down on this notebook. But so much has happened that I didn't know where to start. The last entry ended with me going to sleep on the steps of City Hall. Well long story short, I got what I needed from the government-which is a public funded small room in a building full of refugees, and I only need to pay one fifth of the rent a month. I can choose to live here a maximum of a year, and later I must move out. But I plan to move out as soon as a few of my paycheck rolls into my account.

Speaking of which, every day from eight to five for the past week I have been receiving training from our floor director. He taught us (there are five people in my unit) the basics of customer service, what is expected from our customers, how to check and clean all areas, being perceptive to everyone's needs, and of course, how to avoid unnecessary conflict when dealing with a difficult customer. The last one practically hints at us that if you sense something is wrong, back away quietly and when out of sight-run. Because they will most likely kill you.

I thought this was particularly close to how you would treat an angry canine, but didn't speak about it aloud.

My life is basically on track, but I have been eating the same thing for every day now-hard boiled eggs, butter, and bread. They are the cheapest food I can purchase in store. I stared at a jar of chocolate hazelnut sauce for a long time, but didn't get it. It cost two-fifty Jenny and two-fifty Jenny could last me an additional week in bread, egg, and butter.

Then around a couple days ago, I begin to understand how to sneak food out from the arena.

Each fighter is usually equipped with full meal before their fight. More than often they don't eat it at all-because the we push the cart full of food from the kitchen right to their door and ring their doorbell and push a ribbon into their room from outside and then walk away. We are not required to be present when they receive their food. But later after an hour, we are required to go retrieve the trays.

At first I was too scared to eat them, so I did exactly as I was told. Then someone senior from me told me that the fighters hardly ever eat the cuisine prepared by the chef here, because they are too cautious to. They usually cook themselves, or eat somewhere else in the city.

So ever since yesterday, whenever I push food carts out from the kitchen, I make sure I eat some snacks from that tray until I am full, then leave the rest at the door. It's an unethical thing to do, but so is wasting food. They could've asked the kitchen not to make them anything, but it comes with being a fighter package, including free room and all, and the arena get so rich from their fights that really these are nothing.

Now, I should use a few words to describe the arena.

The entire building is built with glass window pane, and marble floor. There are extra sturdy materials used for arenas, but still construction workers can be seen constantly around the building. There will be breakage every single day, that's for certain.

It is absolutely... gorgeous. Beautiful and bloody at the same time. I don't know why but I also feel very uncomfortable around fights. And the more intense the fight is, the more I feel uncomfortable. For the first floors below a hundred I feel completely fine. Truth to be told, they are weak, therefore I don't feel anything. But once I stepped into the 230 floor with a cart, and I got nauseous that I threw up in the nearest bathroom.

This tower is a backward cylindrical shape. There are arenas in every floor, but there are twenty on the first one, and one each floor above 200. Normal people would not be allowed to enter floors above 200 without special permission, key, or is a fighter belong to that category. I am not stupid, because I know those people up there are extremely strong. Somehow I have this impression in my mind that for those who are truly strong they are less known by mortals. Despite the fame that the floor masters position that they held, I think they stand no chance with any member of phantom.

I have discovered a little more about my "power", if you can even call it that. Purely because sometime during the last week I accidentally dipped my hands in the ice bucket that held the champagne, and I screamed because it was so cold, and when I pulled my hand out, the bucket was on fire.

It wasn't a nice and orangy sort of fire. It's reddish and very faint. I think the ice in the bucket still overcame the fire, because it was put out in less than two seconds. Nobody noticed perhaps, and I was escorted to the first aid room, where they wrapped my hand with a bandage and placed it near a heater.

I touched the heater with my bare hands, and I don't feel pain. It felt so warm and toasty that I moved a chair from the office desk and placed it right next to the heater. Then I leaned on the heater and almost dozed off until it was time to punch out and go home.

I didn't pursue this ability much further. In my mind it didn't matter if I have an ability or not. I've lived 23 years back in my own world without a superpower, and I don't care to have one. With it, there comes a bunch of trouble I can't get out of. So I might as well not use it and hide it against the whole world. However when I'm at the time of my trouble, it will jump out and save me-so I am grateful for that. It might as well be damn well impossible to survive in this world without a skill of defense.

I had an argument with a customer yesterday, and it was very immature of me to allow that to happen, but it's already done. The customer insisted that there was a room checked in under his name, and yet there was none in the registry. So I was about to call my director when that customer yelled at me, and which I yelled back.

I didn't yell back to get a few words in before my colleague, Lear, stopped me from making a mistake I might regret-also possibly stop me from getting killed. I spent the rest of the afternoon in my director's office sulking and listening to his scolding.

I made my first friend since I got here!

When I first entered the training room, I noticed Lear immediately. I am not sure why, but he emits this strong and kind aura that makes me unreasonably wants to come close to him. So I sat next to him whenever I get the possibility. At first everyone else didn't care much because we all desperately needed the job to care. But once the job is settled people start to notice my strange pattern of always choosing to be close to Lear. Not that Lear himself talked a lot to me particularly, or showed an interest in me (in being friend!), I still tried to be close to him.

Ok, fine. By this point I should admit how Lear looks. At first you couldn't see his eyes that clearly, but what attracted him the most was his nose-his nose looked like something God sculpted with a single cut. It was perfectly shaped, making his entire face more masculine, because come one, let's face it, his eyes are large and effeminate. When I told that to him, he stared at me as if I was Godzilla, but then quickly smiled and said, "Yui has a very vivid imagination."

I replied that imagination is one of the luxuries that I could only afford at a situation like this. He asked me why, and I told him how competitive this world is, and how everyone's eyes sparkle at the sight of Jennies, and how people at first noticed only the value of a person instead of their personality.

He then laughed at my notion, and asked, "Yui, what did you think about when you approached me? In your theory, your best beneficial paths of making friends is to spend more time with our directors, or the floor masters up above 200."

I then first told him how uncomfortable I was around floor masters. They emit an aura that screams, "fear me, tiny beings, fear me!" and also our directors are so boring. They are like robots that constantly works day in and day out. I bet they never heard of having fun. And I approached Lear because he looked interesting to be with, and most of all, he seemed innately kind.

His eyes widened a little at my praise, and then smiled before closing them. "I think you are kind too."

I nodded, "Of course I am. I know that."

And so Lear helped me by walking with me everywhere when setting up legal documents. I told him I am very distressed at the word refugee. It meant I was fleeing away from my home country, which I'm not, obviously.

He said he understand and this stereotype of anyone from East Gorteau meant being a refugee is ridiculous. I agreed and said, "Lear, you are really intelligent. Did you go to a lot of school?"

He shook his head and laughed, "No, not at all. But I did read a lot of books."

I thought about it, and asked with caution, "Did you come from a family with a poor background too?"

"Sort of." He nodded, "I couldn't afford a decent education. But then again, that is something that is a fleeting luxury in this world."

I whispered to him, "I also read a lot of books, but I also had school."

"Really? In East Gorteau?" He was surprised.

"Um, sort of." I left it vaguely, "But what I learned in school could never compare with whatever I learned in life. You see, the lessons that I gathered are only after I left home. Even in poverty, I think my parents greatly cared for me. I wish to repay them with most of the Jennies I earn. The money they offered me when I left seemed to be scraped from their bones-I want my paycheck to come as quickly as possible, so I can withdraw cash and send them in."

"With a letter?" He seemed surprised.

"Yes, why?"

"Usually people pay special services for that. The chances of the letter being stolen are quite high."

I then asked him on what service, and he took me to a company that specialize in delivering special goods. Apparently money isn't as important, so it didn't cost that much when I put some money inside an envelope and sent it away as an experiment.

This happened this afternoon, and now it's late into the night. I have been scribbling away for the better part of the evening. Sometimes words flow out instead of forcing it to. I think I am incredibly grateful for the position in which I am in now. I don't want to end up on the streets ever again-literally.

From tomorrow on, it's a new day, and I will live it to the best of my ability!

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

A/N: It's a sad and cruel world.