In the military jeep rumbling through the darkness on the return journey, Admiral Mike sat silently in the back seat.
He pulled out a corncob pipe and lit it slowly, his mind drifting back to the aftermath of the battle.
Morton hadn't suffered any serious injuries, but he was still carried away on a stretcher.
Even in his humiliating state — soiled and barely conscious — no one dared to laugh at him.
Not a single soldier present could confidently say they would've done better if they had faced Germain head-on.
In fact, quite a few of them had outright fainted.
They had to spend time waking people up, and those they couldn't rouse were simply carried into the vehicles to be dealt with later.
And this... this was already Germain holding back.
If he had unleashed his full power without restraint, more than half the unit would've likely suffered complete mental breakdowns.
Even Admiral Mike himself, despite having several Nen users shielding him, couldn't take it.
He had collapsed onto the ground, completely paralyzed.
Only after everything ended did his men help him to his feet.
He stood for a while, steadying himself, doing his best not to show weakness.
But truthfully, both he and his soldiers had their morale utterly crushed by Germain — a single man.
It was only now that Admiral Mike began to understand why the V6 leadership was always so cautious about Netero, treating him like some kind of strategic-level weapon.
Maybe... this was the reason.
If what Netero had said was true, Germain might actually be stronger than him.
And far more dangerous.
After Morton was taken away, Admiral Mike did his best to maintain his composure as a commander.
He even offered a few words of praise to Germain.
Then, he announced it was getting late and told everyone to return to the fortress.
The truth was, he wasn't sure how long his recently recovered strength would last.
If he ended up collapsing in front of everyone — or worse, wetting himself like Morton — he'd never be able to command them again.
Now, sitting in the rattling, clattering rear seat of the military jeep, he finally felt a hint of relief.
At least here, he was surrounded by his own people.
But he knew—tonight, even in his dreams, he wouldn't be able to forget what he had just witnessed.
And that feeling... like a drowning man caught in a sudden flood, with muddy water surging into his nose and throat.
The more he struggled, the more hopeless it became. A suffocating, inescapable terror.
That kind of fear might just take root in his heart and never leave.
Admiral Mike only now realized that his hand—the one holding his beloved corn-cob pipe—was trembling uncontrollably.
No matter how many times he tried, he simply couldn't get his silver lighter to spark the tobacco. His hand refused to steady.
A flash of frustration surged through him. With a grimace, he grabbed the pipe and hurled it to the floor with all his might.
But the soft carpeting caught it. The pipe bounced up again, and dry tobacco scattered everywhere.
The accompanying guards immediately bent down to clean up the mess, carefully pretending they had no idea why the Admiral was so angry.
In another vehicle, an off-road truck trailing behind, Steiner sat quietly in the front passenger seat.
In the back sat Germain—the one at the center of it all—alongside Chairman Netero and the others.
The air inside the car had been stiff with silence for a long time.
Until finally, someone couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Heehee..."
Bisky covered her mouth with her silk-gloved hands, clearly trying her best not to burst out laughing.
But she couldn't help it.
"Heeheeheeheehee—"
Her laugh was oddly infectious. It had a kind of ridiculous, magical energy that spread like wildfire.
One by one, everyone started laughing along with her.
And the more they laughed, the harder it was to stop.
"Hahahaha—!"
Even Morel had to lift his sunglasses and wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes.
They were the group least affected by Germain's Nen earlier.
And naturally, they were also the happiest because of it.
For a while, laughter echoed nonstop through the cabin.
Eventually, it began to quiet down.
But just as the silence started to settle, Bisky let out another snort-laugh, and it ruined the whole attempt.
Everyone burst into laughter all over again.
This kind of thing happened far too often during the return trip.
Chairman Netero didn't stop them either—he figured it was better for them to let it out now than to risk laughing inside the fortress later.
After all, it was really funny.
"Steiner," Chairman Netero said between chuckles, turning to the officer seated in the front passenger seat, "you better not report all this laughing to HQ."
He was joking, of course.
He wasn't actually worried that their laughter would be reported to Admiral Mike.
After all, it was Mike's side that started the provocation.
Besides, they didn't say anything inappropriate—they just laughed.
Is laughter forbidden now?
"Of course not," Steiner replied, his voice still trembling slightly.
"To be honest, I was so scared just now my legs nearly gave out. If you all hadn't protected me from the front, I probably would've ended up like Morton…"
That line hit Bisky right in the funny bone again.
Her signature "Heeheehee" laughter rang out through the cabin once more, setting everyone else off again.
Even Steiner couldn't help but smile.
Officially, he should be on Admiral Mike's side.
But after spending months working with these people, emotionally, he found himself leaning toward Germain and the others.
Besides, Steiner had finally gotten a glimpse—just a glimpse—of Germain's true power.
And even that tiny glimpse was enough to reduce a group of hardened soldiers to that sorry state.
He couldn't think of any good reason to risk offending Germain, the Hunter Association, or the entire group of Nen users—just for Admiral Mike's sake.
Steiner decided it was best to just do his duty.
Stay neutral.
Help both sides where he could.
Avoid conflicts.
And above all, never provoke either party.
That would be enough.
And from the Hunter Association's perspective, his neutrality was the best outcome they could ask for.
After returning to the coastal fortress, the group said their farewells to Admiral Mike and Steiner.
Then they headed into the Hunter Association's sector and went their separate ways.
However, just before parting, Bisky suddenly tugged Germain aside.
She led him into a quiet corner, lowered her voice, and asked,
"How did it go?"
"What's going on?" Germain looked at her with curiosity.
"That 'Greedy Dragon Crystal'!" Bisky almost shouted but lowered her voice just in time. "Did Dwun and the others fail to refine it?"
"It's done." Germain finally understood what Bisky meant. As he spoke, he took a small box out of his pocket — something he always carried with him.
"Let me see it."
Germain glanced at Shizuku, who was stopped nearby talking with Cluck, the bird-woman adorned with flowing feathers, completely unaware of their conversation.
So, Germain showed the box to Bisky. She only glanced at it before her eyes widened, almost reaching out to grab it.
But the greedy hand she stretched out quickly pulled back.
"Take it away," Bisky forced herself to look away. "I can't stand looking at this."
"Why? Is it not pretty?" Germain asked, a little worried.
"It is." Bisky answered. "Dwun and the others really know their stuff. That 'Greedy Dragon Crystal' has been put to good use."
With the approval of the 'Gem Hunter,' it truly was a success.
Germain put the box away.
Bisky turned back to him and asked, "When do you plan to use it? It's a shame Valentine's Day is long gone."
"I feel ready anytime." Germain looked over at Shizuku.
Her purple dress was still on, her hands behind her back as she tilted her head chatting with Cluck.
No matter what she wore, it was impossible to hide the unique aura she carried.
"Anytime," Bisky said.
*******
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