Chapter 90: Hisoka's First Encounter × The Hundred-Faced John Doe
"Young Master, Luke's calling..."
In the speeding car, a ringtone suddenly pierced through.
Gotoh held the phone, carefully seeking Roy's permission. The young man rested his chin on his hand, gazing out at the passing landscape. He sensed something and spoke calmly: "Answer."
The call connected.
"This is Luke relaying the Old Master's exact words: he's reminding you not to forget those three lashes."
The Zoldyck family kept no idle servants. Training as a butler was arduous, and training as a master was no different.
Roy could almost picture Silva's expressionless face. He watched the scenery retreat before his eyes and said nothing in response.
Soon enough, the car came to a stop at the airport.
Gotoh stepped out first, opening Roy's door. He then swiftly popped the trunk, grabbed the luggage, and followed. Master and servant activated Zetsu simultaneously, suppressing their aura to blend in as ordinary people as they entered the terminal.
They boarded an airship bound for Saheim-Tal Union, landing in Glam Gas Land.
The crowded masses surged from the terminal. The moment they stepped through the gate, Roy felt the city's atmosphere—drastically different from Padokea. Colorful ribbons fluttered. Whistles blared. Acrobatic sounds filled the air. The roar and cheers of crowds were far louder, far more festive than anything Padokea had to offer.
Glam Gas Land, the "Entertainment Capital," lived up to its name.
"Young Master, shall we explore?" The luggage had been checked in. With a full day ahead, Gotoh slung a small bag across his shoulder and joined Roy in hailing a taxi.
"Driver, do you know where the Moritonio Troupe is performing?"
"There's a show at the Royal Glam Hotel."
"Hey, you here for the 'Sky Swimming' act too, aren't you? That Moritonio guy is incredible. I have no idea how he does it, flying through the air without any support at all..." The driver spoke excitedly, not waiting for Roy's response before accelerating straight for the theater.
Gotoh paid the fare and followed Roy to the entrance.
Above them: "Royal Glam Hotel" in large letters.
Gotoh wondered—why did the young master seem so familiar with this circus troupe?
What he didn't know was that Roy had no real interest in watching the performance. He was here purely to gather life energy.
Not knowing a person was a murderer and knowing but doing nothing were two entirely different concepts. Since Roy was fully aware that Moritonio was a serial killer, and he'd happened to appear here with time to spare, there was no reason not to act.
Even if Roy didn't consider himself a good person—even if his upbringing was far from normal—he did as he wished. No one could stop him.
Besides, the Sun itself drove away darkness. To maintain a clear heart and unobstructed mind, this was merely a convenient deed.
"Wow—Sky Swimming! It's Moritonio!"
They bought tickets and entered. The performance was in full swing.
Gotoh stood beside Roy, facing the center stage, against the wall. Neither took a seat. There stood a middle-aged man in a top hat, sporting a thick beard below his chin. He held a cane—far more ornate than the cane sword Roy carried—and floated freely through the air, drawing gasps and screams from the audience.
"Nen?" Gotoh murmured.
"The man is a Nen user," Roy confirmed quietly.
Without any ropes, floating through the air violated natural law. Gotoh had suspected as much when the taxi driver mentioned it, but now, as he infused his eyes with Nen to see clearly, he observed—a Nen thread extending from Moritonio's form to the ceiling, holding him aloft as he performed his swimming motions through the air.
"A Nen user still has to eat. Performers like this aren't uncommon," Roy said, seeing deeper and broader than Gotoh. Present in the theater were other Nen users: Moritonio's assistant, the girl Abaki, responsible for tossing him props, and lurking in the shadows not far away, a red-haired clown with a spade A card pinched between his lips, watching Moritonio intently while slowly licking the card.
"Hehehehe... you're not watching the show. Why are you watching me?" The clown seemed to possess an uncanny awareness, catching Roy's line of sight with eerie precision.
He tilted his head, looking back. The young man appeared roughly his own age, his eyes curious—as if they harbored countless untold stories.
Hisoka's eyes narrowed to crescents, locked with Roy's across the light-filled theater. Roy withdrew his gaze, letting it pass over Hisoka's form before returning his attention to the stage. Behind the card, Hisoka's lips curved into a smile, his shoulders trembling with silent, meaningful laughter.
"That was incredible! Moritonio! Encore! Encore! Don't leave the stage!"
Half an hour later, the performance reached its climax.
The "superstar" Moritonio could not resist the audience's enthusiasm. He performed an additional five minutes before finally retreating backstage to rest.
"Boss, have some water." Abaki gathered the props and followed him into the dressing room, offering him a cup. Moritonio drank, then asked, "Where's Hisoka?"
"You looking for me?" The curtain parted, revealing a face marked with stars and teardrops.
Hisoka leaned against the makeup table, arms crossed. With Hisoka's arrival, the entire Moritonio Troupe was assembled—only waiting for Borizoi, the driver, to bring everyone back to the hotel.
Moritonio shed his stage costume and gazed out the window as the sun gradually sank lower, night creeping across the horizon. His face remained expressionless as he entered the bathroom. When he emerged, he had transformed entirely.
Vacant. Dull. Like an executioner lost in darkness, wandering without direction.
He left the hotel, blending into the crowd, hunting casually for prey. He spotted a lone girl and followed her. The night deepened. Crows cried. The narrow alley, unlike the brilliantly lit main street, was pitch-black—impossible to see even an inch ahead. A girl with twin ponytails had just left cram school, fantasizing about going home without homework, when she suddenly saw a shadow. Her eyes widened in terror as a hand clamped over her mouth, slamming her against the wall.
"Frightened? What a fresh face. Child, be good. Let uncle take a good look... at your expression of terror and despair—so exquisite. Go on... open your eyes wider. Yes, that's it. Crying? Why would you cry? Smile. Smile for me!"
A flash of silver light—a blade glimmered, severing an arm.
Blood sprayed across the wall. Moritonio froze. The girl vanished, cradled in the arms of a bearded man. Before them stood a young man holding a cane sword, his face expressionless as he stared at Moritonio.
"Should I call you 'Hundred-Faced John Doe,' or should I call you 'superstar Moritonio'?"
"I've been discovered?" Moritonio's fingers dug into his own face, laughing with a suppressed voice. "Young man, you're quite brave. Tell me—might I see your expression of surprise as well?"
"Hitch—" Roy's cane sword suddenly moved. Moritonio pointed a single finger at Roy...
The cane sword wrenched free from Roy's hands, spinning in mid-air before turning its blade back on him.
Moritonio's Nen abilities were multifaceted: Blood Magnet allowed him to transmute his aura into magnetic force, crushing targets with precision. Sky Swimming, another Transmutation technique, enabled him to suspend himself using Nen threads attached to solid objects—a performance staple.