HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

A small stone house stood alone on the vast plains. Occasionally, silhouettes appeared nearby, but they quickly vanished.

A white-haired boy approached the small house, casually scanning his surroundings.

A strong, tangible gaze followed him like a shadow.

The poorly concealed spying made Cyr frown.

Were veteran players observing him?

Come to think of it, most games had some sort of ability that allowed players to instantly check an enemy's information.

The game Greed Island should have similar ability cards—though he wasn't sure how much information they could reveal.

In other words, some veteran players had likely already gathered intel on him.

His name, the cards he possessed…

They had probably figured out he was a new player, too.

But that wasn't classified information, was it?

Otherwise, why would he even bother using a fake name?

It was hardly useful intel.

---

"My lord."

A blond youth and a white tiger-like beast emerged in front of the house.

"Hmm… So as long as you have Nen, you can play, huh? Even race doesn't matter."

Cyr glanced at the massive white tiger, as if confirming a theory.

"My lord, those people… shall we—"

Maro stood at Cyr's side, two steps behind, head lowered to hide his eyes. His voice was cold.

He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was clear.

Should they eliminate the ones spying on them?

Rats too careless to even hide their tails dared to snoop on them?

How irritating.

"Their stares are quite annoying…"

Cyr nodded slightly.

"But when I think of them as my newbie gift pack… I actually feel pretty good."

He chuckled, his words dripping with mockery.

A newbie gift pack?

Did he mean the fools offering themselves up to die?

"As you say, my lord."

Maro lowered his head further, his tone filled with fervor.

---

"Let's go. We'll check out the nearest town first."

Cyr walked ahead, analyzing the current game situation as he went.

"To clear the game, we need to collect 100 specified cards. But there aren't many of those in existence—certainly not enough for the number of players."

When demand exceeds supply, competition is inevitable.

"There are 100 game consoles, each supporting up to 8 players. That means a maximum of 800 players."

Yet the best specified cards were likely only available in single digits.

It had been ten years since the game launched, and no one had cleared it.

That meant fighting over cards was common.

Some players had even been found dead next to their consoles.

---

"Those veteran players probably won't attack us right now."

Cyr continued, analyzing out loud.

"A new player with nothing isn't worth the effort."

"If it were me…"

"I'd let the newbies grow first. Once they've collected some good cards, then I'd harvest them."

So the veterans were just watching them for now.

Monitoring them.

Which meant that as long as Cyr played the game, these little rats would keep following him.

Forever.

That wouldn't do.

He didn't have the patience for this.

Suddenly, Cyr stopped walking.

Maro and Sora halted immediately behind him.

A figure wrapped in white light plummeted from the sky like a falling star, landing in front of them with a powerful gust of wind.

As the light faded, a man holding a card binder was revealed.

He wore a sleeveless martial arts uniform, his exposed muscular arms resembling solid stone.

A triangular scar marked his face, likely from a weapon's stab wound.

He studied Cyr and Maro, flipping open his card book.

"New players?"

The man drew a card and inserted it into a slot in his book.

Immediately, lines of information appeared on the small screen inside the book.

"No cards in the designated pocket, none in the free pocket either… Name: Cyr, huh…"

He muttered to himself, clearly not taking the two newcomers seriously.

After the used card vanished, he pulled out another identical one.

This time, the card displayed Maro's information.

"Name: Maro… Also has nothing…"

He glanced at the white tiger nearby.

...Was that thing a player? No way, right?

Forget it—no point wasting another card.

"Relax, I won't attack you right now…"

His smile brimmed with anticipation as he pulled out another card.

---

"Ah, a newbie gift pack from the sky."

The white-haired boy finally spoke for the first time since the man's arrival.

His tone was calm, even amused, without the slightest trace of fear.

It was almost unnerving.

And what did he mean by "newbie gift pack"?

"Newbies always end up eating a few spell cards like [Tracking]…"

The man smirked maliciously.

"Use [Tracking]—attack…"

Before he could finish his sentence, his hand was severed at the wrist.

Blood sprayed into the air.

His severed hand landed in front of the white-haired boy, still clutching the card, fingers even twitching slightly.

"AAAAH—MY HAND! MY HAND—!"

The man screamed in agony, his arm flailing as blood gushed even faster.

But he quickly forced himself to calm down, using his remaining hand to activate a prepared card.

"Use [Return], re—"

"Trying to run? That won't do."

The white-haired boy's voice cut him off.

---

So that's how it works.

To use a card, players had to say the target's name out loud.

That explained why he'd started by checking their information.

And as long as they were interrupted before finishing their command—or better yet, before they could say their target's name—their card wouldn't activate.

In other words, if your reaction speed was fast enough, you'd never get hit.

Realizing this, Cyr's gaze shifted to the card book and cards that had fallen nearby.

Maro immediately bent down, picked them up, and respectfully offered them to him.

"I don't have any cards right now anyway…"

Cyr accepted the card book, flipping through it.

"Since you were kind enough to bring me a gift, I'll spare your life."

One by one, he removed the cards from the man's book.

"Book."

A similar book materialized in his hands.

After transferring the newly acquired cards into his own book, he tossed the empty one at the wounded man's feet.

"Run however you like. I'd say… quite a few people are watching this, wouldn't you?"

His blue eyes glowed beneath the black markings on his face, lips curling into a devilish grin.

As for what happens to a player who loses both their hands and all their cards in this game—

Who cares?

The man staggered to his feet, completely ignoring his severed hand, and bolted.

---

"Enjoying the show, trash?"

Cyr turned in the direction of the hidden gazes, his voice laced with mockery.

"Keep staring, and I'll kill every last one of you."

°°°

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