The cool night air of Padokea City washed over us as we exited Heavens Arena, the towering structure's neon lights casting long, distorted shadows across the bustling streets.
Three months we'd spent within those walls, battling our way through the lower floors, amassing wins, and pushing our cultivation to new heights.
We were floor masters now, our names etched on the plaques of the 200th floor, a testament to our strength and skill.
But the victory felt hollow, the journey lacking.
Rem, beside me, kicked at a loose cobblestone, her expression a mask of frustrated disappointment. "Three months wasted," she grumbled, her voice sharp with annoyance. "All that training, and for what? We barely broke a sweat."
I nodded, Ignoring the projectile that's probably going to give someone a bad day far in the distance, sharing her frustration. "Ten wins, a floor master title, and we've reached the 3rd level of Xiantian," I muttered, shoving my hands into the pockets of my enchanted suit. "Even then, not once, NOT ONCE, did we face a real challenge!"
My gaze drifted towards the towering heights of Heavens Arena, my thoughts lingering on a particular individual I had hoped to encounter.
"I was really looking forward to fighting Chrollo Lucilfer," I said, my voice laced with a hint of regret. "He's supposed to be one of the strongest Nen users in the world."
Rem snorted, her blue eyes flashing with a mix of irritation and boredom. "Maybe you scared everyone off with your 'annihilate everything in sight sword' Hatsu," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Word travels fast to those connected to Heavens Arena. I bet even Chrollo heard about your 'Shometsu Ken' and decided to take a vacation."
I smirked, a surge of pride momentarily eclipsing my frustration. "If 'Shometsu Ken' scared them," I said, my voice laced with a confident swagger, "then no one's ready for 'Shometsu Kyu.'"
—
The plush seats of the first-class train compartment welcomed us into their embrace.
I sank into the cushions, letting out a contented sigh as the rhythmic rumble of the train's engines lulled me into a state of near relaxation.
Rem, beside me, her head resting lightly on my shoulder, seemed to share my sentiment, her blue eyes closed as she drifted into a light doze.
For a few blissful moments,all anxieties faded away, replaced by the simple pleasures of comfortable travel and Rem's warm presence beside me.
Then, a voice, harsh and out of place amidst the quiet murmurs of the other passengers, shattered the tranquil atmosphere.
"Yeah, we're in position," the voice crackled through a nearby intercom, its tone too casual, too laced with a barely concealed excitement to belong to a train employee. "The target's ripe for the picking. Are you ready?"
Rem's eyes snapped open, her gaze hardening as she turned towards the source of the voice was a man in a maintenance worker's uniform, fiddling with a panel near the train door, his back to us.
"Thieves," she muttered, her voice low and dangerous, a flicker of her Oni rage igniting in her eyes. "They dare to interrupt our peace. I should tear them limb from limb."
She started to rise from her seat, her hand instinctively reaching for the hidden weapons concealed beneath her kimono.
I caught her arm, gently but firmly pulling her back down.
"Patience, Rem," I whispered, my voice calm but laced with a steely edge. "Let's not spoil the surprise. We'll get them all at once."
She glared at me, her eyes blazing with a suppressed fury. "Fine," she hissed, her voice barely audible. "But I'm breaking something."
I chuckled softly, knowing better than to argue with her when she was in this mood. Rem's definition of "breaking something" was often breaking everything.
Literally no bone spared.
The would-be thieves, a ragtag group of eight additional men armed with knives and crude pistols, burst into the first-class compartment, their faces masked with bandanas, their eyes wide with a mixture of greed, excitement and fear.
Obvious amateurs.
"Alright, everyone, hands where we can see them!" one of them shouted, his voice cracking with nervous bravado. "This is a robbery! Don't try anything stupid, or you'll get hurt!"
His words were met with a wave of terrified gasps from the other passengers.
Except for Rem and me.
We exchanged a knowing glance, a silent agreement passing between us.
Then, with a synchronized burst of speed, we were upon them.
The next few seconds were a blur of motion. Rem, her movements swift, danced through their ranks, her spatially compressed flail materializing in her hand with a metallic clinking noise.
Her strikes were swift and brutal, her spiked ball cracking bones and sending bodies flying.
I moved with equal speed, my enchanted suit shimmering as I weaved through the chaos, my blade flashing, cutting tendons and severing nerves, a silver streak attached to a black blur that disarmed and disabled with surgical precision.
Within moments, the would-be thieves lay groaning on the floor, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, their weapons scattered, their dreams of quick riches shattered by our overwhelming power.
Rem, her initial fury replaced by a satisfied smirk, surveyed the scene with a critical eye. "Not bad," she said, her voice laced with a playful darkness. "But a few more broken bones wouldn't hurt."
Before I could even respond, the conductor, his face pale with a mixture of fear and gratitude, rushed into the compartment, his eyes wide with shock.
"My god!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling. "You… you saved us! Thank you, Hunters! You are true heroes!"
He bowed deeply, his face etched with a look of profound respect.
"As a token of our gratitude," he continued, "we'd like to offer you a complimentary upgrade to a private cabin. It's the least we can do."
We accepted the offer, grateful for a moment of peace and quiet after the chaotic encounter.
As we settled into the plush comfort of our private cabin, the rhythmic rumble of the train's engines pulling us back into a state of relaxed anticipation, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.
We helped save these people.
It seemed like crazy stuff happened everywhere.
Even on a seemingly mundane train journey.
I leaned back to relax, we had a long train ride still ahead of us.
Rem chuckled, her fingers intertwining with mine. "Or maybe," she teased, "we'll just enjoy some delicious street food and watch the world go by."
I opened my mouth to respond, but as the train pulled into Yorknew City's grand station, a sense of unease prickled at the edges of my awareness.
The usually bustling platform was eerily deserted, the air thick with a stillness that felt more ominous than peaceful.
I stepped off the train, my hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of my sword, its comforting weight a familiar reassurance amidst the growing unease.
"Something's not right, Where have all the passengers gone? It's like they stopped existing mid-conversation." Rem murmured, her voice low and cautious.
I nodded, my senses on high alert. A faint pulse of danger, a subtle shift in the air's pressure, alerted me to a presence nearby, a power that dwarfed anything we had encountered before.
I grinned, a battle-hungry excitement surging through me, the promise of a true challenge chasing away the lingering weariness of our recent failure to find any challenge at Heavens Arena.
Rem, mirroring my grin, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of anticipation and a hint of fear, tightened her grip on my hand and let go.
We turned, our gazes drawn towards a figure standing at the far end of the platform.
He was an old man, his hair silvered with age, his face a canvas of wrinkles etched by time and experience. He wore a simple, purple half-kimono with a pair of bright white martial arts pants, its fabric flowing around him like a gentle breeze.
But beneath his seemingly frail exterior, I could sense a power that radiated outwards, a cold, calculating intensity that made the air crackle.
And on his chest, a familiar scroll, its black ink and white paper stark against the purple silk, proclaimed his deadly purpose.
One Paid Kill A Day.
It was Killua's grandfather.
Zeno Zoldyck.
"I've been waiting for you," Zeno said, his voice a raspy whisper that somehow carried across the deserted platform, cutting through the silence like a razor-sharp blade. "I'm glad someone finally paid for my time. Now I can finally collect on a debt long overdue."
His perpetually closed eyes opened and his gaze locked onto mine, his eyes as cold and sharp as shards of ice. "You killed my favorite grandson," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "And now, you will pay the price."
He moved, his body blurring into a phantom of speed, his presence vanishing from the platform in an instant.
But our enhanced senses, honed by years of training shoved into us by the amulets and amplified by the enchantments woven into our rings, tracked his movements with only slight difficulty, his aura a faint and hidden by In, but an unmistakable beacon to our powerful Nen.
Rem, beside me, moved with equal speed, her blue eyes narrowed in focus, her aura flaring with intensity.
"He won't escape us," she said, her voice laced with a chilling calm.
Zeno, his form re-materializing atop a nearby building, his eyes widening in surprise, stared at us with a newfound respect.
"Interesting," he murmured, a flicker of curiosity replacing his initial coldness. "You can see me at that speed? Very well. Let the hunt begin."