Rimo stared at the sharp kitchen knife in his hand, shock clearly written on his face.
He had only been testing a hypothesis, almost casually, but the result appeared right in his palm.
It actually worked.
"If a kitchen knife is possible… then does that mean firearms too…"
Without hesitation, Rimo immediately began another round of self-hypnosis.
This time, he deliberately recalled the sensation from Mo's memories, the moment of being ambushed, the cold fear when a gun was pressed against his body, the pain of bullets tearing through flesh during the underworld shootout.
The emotional resistance surged.
The next second, a black pistol appeared in Rimo's hand.
However, before the joy could fully rise, Rimo noticed something was wrong.
The weight felt off.
The balance was wrong.
There was no mechanical precision beneath his fingers.
Upon closer inspection, Rimo realized that the pistol was nothing more than a gun-shaped block of solid iron.
It had the outer appearance of a firearm, but no internal structure, no firing mechanism, no bullets, no springs.
It was a shell.
Although the experiment had failed, Rimo did not feel disappointed.
Instead, he calmly tossed the fake pistol into the nearby garbage pile.
Touching his chin, Rimo muttered thoughtfully,
"So it's not possible yet… probably because I don't understand the internal structure of firearms, and I've never actually disassembled or handled one before."
It seemed that his ability relied heavily on cognitive clarity and experiential memory.
Anything could be done when pushed to the extreme.
Except mathematics.
After brushing the dust off his trousers, Rimo stood up, feeling satisfied.
The ability test was basically complete.
Overall, both abilities far exceeded his expectations.
No, it would be more accurate to say that he was extremely satisfied.
Whether it was the absurd self-healing ability or the power to materialize substances, either one alone would be enough to serve as survival capital in the dangerous world of Hunter × Hunter.
At that moment, Rimo noticed his clothes.
The cheap suit he had been wearing was still riddled with bullet holes and soaked in dried blood.
"Speaking of which… these clothes really need to be changed."
As he spoke, Rimo deliberately amplified his discomfort, focusing on the irritation of torn fabric rubbing against his skin.
The throbbing returned.
In the next instant, a set of clean, soft cotton pajamas appeared in his hands, along with a brand-new black suit folded neatly beside it.
"This ability is ridiculously convenient…"
Rimo put on the pajamas with visible relief, then picked up the new suit and headed back toward the house.
Now that the tests were done, his tense nerves finally relaxed.
At the very least, these abilities meant he no longer needed to fear this world.
Although he still didn't understand where these powers came from, for now, Rimo chose to classify them as the "benefit of crossing worlds."
"Still… why am I not sleepy at all?"
The abnormal biological rhythm felt strange, but Rimo didn't dwell on it.
He assumed it was because he had been unconscious for too long earlier.
Not feeling sleepy didn't mean he couldn't sleep.
Sleep was still a form of rest, especially for mental exhaustion.
Returning inside, Rimo noticed Machi was still lying on the mattress.
He gently pulled the blanket up and covered her shoulders.
Then, in a very low voice, he said,
"Good night."
Rimo lay down beside her, careful not to cross the line Machi had drawn earlier.
After a day filled with danger, confusion, and discovery, his consciousness quickly sank into darkness.
However, what Rimo didn't know was that Machi had already woken up the moment he entered the house.
The instant she confirmed it was Rimo, she remained still.
When Rimo reached out toward the blanket, Machi's body tensed instantly.
Her fingers tightened around the thin wire hidden beneath the quilt.
As long as Rimo made a single inappropriate move, she was prepared to strike without hesitation.
Machi didn't want to hurt him if she didn't have to.
After all, someone capable of creating food at will was practically a miracle in Meteor City.
And more importantly, her sixth sense had not issued any warning.
So she chose to observe.
Unexpectedly, all Rimo did was cover her with the blanket and wish her good night.
She couldn't understand his behavior.
It didn't exist in her worldview.
She had never seen anything like it, nor did she know what it meant.
Even if her mind couldn't process it, her instincts felt something unfamiliar.
Warmth.
Machi was only eleven years old.
In the outside world, she should have been an elementary school student.
An age meant for safety, care, and innocence.
Instead, Meteor City had frozen her long ago.
After confirming that Rimo had fallen asleep, Machi slowly opened her eyes and looked at his face under the dim light.
For reasons she couldn't explain, something deep within her chest felt as though it had cracked slightly.
—
"Rimo! Rimo! Wake up!"
A loud, rough voice shattered the silence.
Rimo didn't even need to open his eyes to know who it was.
Uvogin.
What a waste not to use that voice for battle cries.
After a brief moment of confusion, Rimo fully woke up.
Machi was no longer beside him.
She must have gone outside earlier.
"Uvogin? Are we collecting supplies?" Rimo asked while rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah. Nobunaga and I got you a protective suit so you can collect stuff on your own."
Uvogin handed him a khaki-colored protective suit.
"Thanks," Rimo said, accepting it.
But the moment he examined the suit, his eye twitched.
Torn seams.
Visible stains.
Questionable thickness.
"…Does this really block radiation?"
Instead of putting it on, Rimo studied the material carefully.
"Actually, I tested my abilities last night. Besides food, I can probably create most basic materials. Protective gear should be included."
After speaking, Rimo closed his eyes briefly.
A brand-new protective suit materialized in his hands.
Uvogin's eyes widened instantly.
"Fuck!"
Without another word, he turned and sprinted off.
A short while later, Uvogin returned with Nobunaga and Machi.
"Is it true?" Nobunaga asked immediately. "Uvogin said you can make clothes too?"
Machi's cold voice followed,
"When I woke up, his clothes were already different. I thought he found them outside. Now it seems… his ability is far stranger than we thought."
"Actually," Rimo said calmly, "I should be able to create almost anything, as long as the structure isn't too complex."
As he spoke, furniture began appearing one after another.
A sofa.
A table.
A sturdy double bed.
One item after another emerged as if reality itself bent to his will.
The three of them stood frozen.
Mouths open.
Speechless.
Rimo stopped and casually glanced at Machi's stunned expression.
For the first time since meeting her, her face showed genuine emotion.
At that moment, the same thought appeared in all three of their minds.
"With Rimo around… why are we still picking up trash?"