President's Office, Hunter Association HQ
"Oh, old man—what excuse do you have this time?"
Netero leaned back in his chair, winked at Beans, and motioned for him to rewind the footage. The monitor replayed Roy's punch in slow motion, zoomed right onto Ilmi's chest exploding inward.
Boom~! The room vibrated with the sound of impact.
Netero tutted in mock admiration.
"Even I was a little shocked by that one. Look at this punch—clean, fast, and heavy. That kid's special."
Then, with a sly grin, he turned to Maha.
"C'mon, just admit it. Spend that ten billion. Consider it… filial piety to your grandson."
"Bah." Maha's face went black. He said nothing for a long while, just breathing like a dragon about to spit fire.
Finally—snort!
The old assassin yanked out his ancient flip phone again, barking into it before the call even connected:
"Buy! Buy! Buy! — Hey, what are you doing?! Look what your idiot grandson's done! Wire me twenty billion right now, I'll settle the rest with you later!"
Click. The phone slammed shut.
At Kukuroo Mountain, Zoldyck Estate
Zeno Zoldyck stared at the dead phone, dumbfounded.
Good guy… who did I provoke this time? What's wrong with the old man now?
Grandson? Which one—Killua? Ilmi? Certainly not that kid Roy… right?
But twenty billion? That's like cutting flesh straight off my bones!
And if I don't pay? Zeno imagined Maha breaking his legs even in old age. No thanks.
Kok kok kok~ A knock on the door.
Silva walked in calmly: "Father, the client's mission details are out."
"How much?" Zeno asked without turning. "Is it twenty billion?"
Silva hesitated. "…only five billion."
Zeno's face darkened instantly. Five billion? That can't even feed a dog!
He glared at Silva. "Who told you to step into the room with your left foot first?"
"…What?"
"Don't you know I'm sensitive to left and right? Punish yourself—transfer thirty billion to me. Now."
Silva: "…"
Finding fault again. Just say you want to rob me, old man.
Expressionless, Silva nodded. "Fine." He made the transfer without complaint, then quietly left the room—straight into his own study where he immediately dialed Ilmi's number.
Beep beep beep— No answer.
Beep beep beep— Still no answer.
Beep beep beep—
On the fourth call, a hoarse voice finally came through:
"Hey, Dad. Sorry, I didn't hear the phone earlier."
Deep underground, Hunter Exam tunnel
A pale hand burst from under the rubble. Ilmi clawed his way out, coughing blood. His face was bare now—his Gittarackur disguise shattered—and several ribs stabbed at his lungs every time he breathed.
Silva's voice was sharp: "Did you fight Roy?"
Ilmi spat blood onto the ground, touched his chest, and winced. "Yeah. He broke four, maybe five ribs. If 'injured' means 'punched unconscious'… then yes, I'm injured."
Silva: "…" Speechless.
One punch to Ilmi… unconscious. Silva's brow furrowed. Haven't seen that brat in a few days, and he's grown this much?
A rare sense of danger stirred in Silva's heart.
"Father, anything else?" Ilmi sat cross-legged, jamming nails into his ribs to splint them. "If not, I need to heal."
"Fine. Heal up." Silva paused, voice oddly casual. "And… tell me your bank card password."
Ilmi: "???"
Silva: "Problem?"
"…No. It's XXXXXXXX."
"Good." Click. The line went dead.
Ilmi stared at the crushed phone in his hand, veins twitching on his temple.
In the corridor nearby
"Oh, why is it so hot here~?"
A familiar perverted laugh echoed. Hisoka strolled up, clown shoes back on, face freshly covered with an illusion to hide Roy's slap mark. He sat down across from Ilmi, eyes glittering.
"Thank you for stopping me earlier," Ilmi muttered unexpectedly, driving a nail into his abdomen to reset a cracked rib.
Hisoka actually froze. "Hohoho… since when do you thank anyone?"
"I don't want unnecessary enemies," Ilmi said coolly. "You just bought me time."
"Hohohoho~ I only did it because no one touches my apples." Hisoka licked his lips, watching Ilmi's self-surgery with open delight. "Speaking of apples… your brother is delicious. Is he an Enhancer?"
"I don't know." Ilmi didn't even glance up. "If you want to know, ask him."
Hisoka chuckled, leaning back on his hands. "Good idea. But I'm afraid of death, you know. Fruit farmers don't prune trees with their necks."
Ilmi raised his head, genuinely surprised. "You… afraid?"
"Of course." Hisoka's smile widened into a crescent moon. "There are plenty of people I fear—Chairman Netero, the old men in your family… and now, your little brother."
His voice sharpened.
"He's not A+ rank. He's at least President-level… future S."
Ilmi's pupils narrowed slightly. For the first time, he took Roy's growth seriously.
President's Office Again
The transfer pinged. Twenty billion yen received.
Maha and Netero each pocketed ten.
Netero stretched, grinning. "Old man, didn't think you were so black-hearted. You even cheated your own son."
Maha growled. "The grandson makes trouble, the father pays. What's unfair? Who told Zeno to be Ilmi's dad?"
Netero snorted. Always someone else's fault with you.
He took a sip of tea, then warned, "Careful your precious grandson doesn't learn you bet on him. If he finds out, your house won't stay peaceful."
"Bah. Who'll tell him? God knows, earth knows, you and I know. As long as we keep quiet, he'll never know." Maha sprawled on the sofa, arms behind his head, eyes glued to the TV—
And froze.
Because filling the entire screen now… was a close-up of Roy's blind, smiling face.