"Hundred Demons Cursed Malice—Rakshasa!" This was the strongest move of Jed, leader of the Hunter Association's Black Shadow, said to rival Chairman Netero's "Hundred-Type Guanyin—Ninety-Ninth Form." It was his pride. Back in the day, with this technique he could be mentioned alongside Netero, the twin stars considered the Association's strongest.
Sure enough, when Jed unleashed his ultimate, the double-chinned, white-faced oni manifested behind him transformed. No longer a mascot, it truly became a demon—green-faced and fang-baring, its eyes bulging as if to pop from their sockets. Up close you could even see bloodshot threads crawling across the eyeballs.
"This gets more and more interesting. Looks like this one might actually make me feel pain. You've got some skill, this man called Jed. No wonder you warranted a movie." Unlike Jed, who was red-faced and straining as if to burst, Meruem's expression didn't change. He watched with cool detachment, even tossing in the occasional quip. Even after Jed's killing move multiplied his aura several times over, Meruem still didn't care.
It's been said already: when it comes to straightforward, head-on enhancement-type clashes, Meruem is an invincible existence. At present, there isn't a single person who can injure him in a frontal confrontation. Maybe in the Dark Continent, but not among anyone here—including Jed. In the original, the premature Ant King faced Netero; Netero's body-relaxation flow couldn't touch him, and even the life-forfeiting "Hundred-Type Guanyin—Zero" only scuffed him—barely a scratch, not even a light wound. All the more so now for the perfected Meruem, and his opponent isn't Netero but Jed. In the human world, the only things that can harm Meruem are those with bizarre properties or special rules—like the Zoldycks' Unknown and the Poor Man's Rose.
"Die, monster! Hundred Demons Cursed Malice—Rakshasa!" The massed vortex of baleful energy contained Jed's entire lifetime of martial insight and his grudge against the world. Against such a tide, Meruem's figure was like a lone leaf tossed in giant waves, bobbing up and down—yet never sinking.
"What an enormous load of negative energy. So this is your ace? You hate heaven and earth's injustice? Hate Netero's ruthlessness? Hate the world's cold indifference? Using the world's unfairness as a foundation to evoke others' resentment so you can invade and control them—and if the body can't bear it, they explode and die. As long as humans exist, unfairness exists; unless someone's mind is utterly pure, you fancy yourself unassailable? That's your secret—borrowing human negativity for your technique." Bathed in the almost tangible miasma, Meruem remained unruffled. The resentment and negativity seemed unable to touch him at all. So, is someone unaffected by negativity a saint? Is Meruem a saint? Don't be absurd. He's closer to a villain; he's never claimed to be a good man—just someone who wants to live, and live better. Why doesn't it affect him? Because he's strong enough.
"Is your malice only this deep? Then your capacity is only this big. Survival of the fittest is this world's jungle law. Humans too—no matter how they fancy themselves higher beings with morals, a minority still rules the majority. A perfectly fair world where everyone is happy will never exist. If you want to hate, hate that you were weaker than Netero back then. The victor is king, the loser the outlaw. Had you won, you'd have taken Netero's place. Unfortunately… weakness is original sin." The aura Meruem exuded was more ominous than Jed's malice, and even more invasive. Jed's ultimate, Hundred Demons Cursed Malice—Rakshasa, was completely ineffective.
"Now it's my turn. First, I'm going to hit your chest!" Meruem raised one finger at Jed as he spoke. Before Jed could process the words, pain like tearing ripped through his chest, and he spat a mouthful of purple blood.
"When?" Jed looked back at Meruem and found he was no longer where he'd been, but somewhere else entirely. His body and his eyes couldn't track Meruem's speed at all—how fast was he?
"Next is the right leg." Meruem put up a second finger right in front of him. This time Jed locked on with all his focus, pouring all his malice into his right leg. "Ken"—advanced Nen defense.
Except—
"How?" He'd been staring straight at him. He'd fully hardened the right leg. And yet—he didn't even know when—Jed's right leg was broken. So fast his pain nerves couldn't keep up. Or… was this the opponent's ability? The thought rose unbidden.
He couldn't help it. Jed had once stood atop the world; even in defeat, he wouldn't lose this utterly—like a child before a world champion. And Meruem still hadn't used an obvious Nen ability before him—or perhaps this was his Nen, some emission-type ability! Once a man has failed, at his next failure he will always find excuses to comfort himself, especially in absolute despair. With time, the brain will selectively erase what it most hates to recall, and those self-deceptions become "reality."
"I concede." Bitter as it was, Jed knew he couldn't beat this monster. His strongest move was a joke to the other. His cherished martial path had been shattered, and worst of all, the opponent's "ability" was too uncanny. He hadn't lost unjustly. Next time—if he could find the weakness—he'd win, he told himself.
"Tell me what you want me to do. What will it take to let me go?" Jed wasn't a sore loser, and he didn't want to die. He still had unfinished business. What's a little humiliation? To become the Hunter Association's shadow—Black Shadow's leader—Jed had to be a man who could bend and stretch.
"How about you take out Netero for me? As for 'letting you go'? If you agree, you can leave anytime."
"W-What?" Jed's brain stalled. What was this?
"Well? You've got a grudge with the old man too, right? For certain reasons, it's inconvenient for me to strike at him directly."
"So you want to kill by proxy?" Jed's face darkened, unreadable. He didn't know what grudge this monster had with Netero or why he wanted him dead. If this thing struck himself, even a stronger-than-ever Netero would likely be doomed. But revenge on Netero was one of Jed's reasons for returning, anyway.
"That's right," Meruem said without disguise. No need to—this was exactly what he meant.
"Fine. I agree." By now, Jed's body had mostly recovered—not fully, but enough to move. He wasn't human anymore; while his recovery couldn't match certain Chimera Ants, it far exceeded normal humans. And Meruem had never aimed to kill him—he hadn't struck to finish. Otherwise, Jed wouldn't just be injured.
"So what's your plan?" Hearing Jed's firm answer, Meruem grinned, satisfied. If this were the canon King, maybe he'd never smile outside of Komugi. Too bad—this one has never been that solemn.
"That's my business. You just wait for the news that Netero is dead. Also, your smile looks awful." Conceding didn't mean Jed would submit. A man with a warlord's ambition doesn't bow easily, even to someone stronger. If he had none, he'd never have turned the Association upside down and forced Netero to purge Black Shadow.
"Heh." Meruem didn't mind the attitude. He'd achieved his aim; the rest was just venting.
"Purgatory, Ogre, Shura. We're leaving." Black Shadow's trio came to Jed's side, and the uninjured Purgatory took on the job of supporting him.
"Wait." Just as they were about to go, Meruem spoke.
"What, going back on your word?" Jed's face went ugly. Having your life in someone else's hands is enough to drive you mad.
"Calm down. Of course not. I have three subordinates—not exactly strong, but not weak. They should be able to help you. If you want revenge on Netero, those three of yours alone likely won't cut it. Netero has many star-ranked Hunters under him, and there's also that group called the Zodiacs. You should have heard the name Botobai Gigante—he's one of the Zodiacs now." The Botobai Meruem named was the Zodiac's Dragon—said to be closest to Netero in strength and reputation. The Association's Zodiacs and the Ants' Anbu Twelve Stars both took their names from the twelve animals. Perhaps there would be a clash someday.
Jed listened without expression. At the name Botobai Gigante, his eyes flickered. He glanced at his three, then at the three squadron leaders Meruem indicated.
"Fine."
(End of Chapter)
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