I'm done with the test."
Although Rimo's aura was deliberately suppressed—like someone using Zetsu—he appeared no different from an unremarkable teenager from the lower districts of Meteor City.
To the elders, he seemed ordinary; aside from his striking looks, there was nothing outwardly special.
And yet, what they had just felt was closer to the suffocating pressure of Ren taken to a monstrous extreme—something that even seasoned Nen users would hesitate to release so recklessly.
This was no mere boy.
This was a demon wearing human skin.
Could such overwhelming killing intent truly belong to a human being—something even beyond the bloodlust of veterans who survived the chaos of Meteor City?
"Pass… passed…" the elder stammered, his voice trembling as though he had just stood before a calamity.
Hearing this, Rimo stepped forward toward the Great Elder and extended his hand calmly, as if nothing unusual had occurred. "Bring it here."
"Wh… what?"
Rimo rolled his eyes, his tone impatient. "Pass."
"Ah… oh—oh." The elder nodded stiffly, like a puppet whose strings had been pulled. With shaking hands, he took out the eight passes—thin cards similar to identification badges used for those permitted to leave Meteor City under strict watch—and placed them obediently into Rimo's hand.
After taking the passes, Rimo flicked his wrist and sent them flying toward Chrollo Lucilfer with the precision of a thrown card, reminiscent of a trained Nen user controlling trajectory with minimal effort. "Leader, let's go."
With that, he pushed open the heavy door and walked out without another glance.
Seeing this, Chrollo adjusted his coat slightly, maintaining his usual composed elegance. He turned back to the elders with a polite smile that contrasted sharply with Rimo's oppressive presence. "Then, elders, we will take our leave."
The group of elders could not hide their relief. If Rimo truly lost control—even briefly—it might resemble the devastation caused by a high-level Nen ability unleashed without restraint.
"Mmm… be careful on the road!" they said hurriedly.
Gone was the imposing authority they had displayed earlier when facing Chrollo. Now, they looked like frail old men who had just survived a disaster.
After Rimo and the others had completely left, the Fourth Elder—who had previously stepped forward to assist—let out a long breath.
For a moment, he truly believed he would die there.
"Who is that young man called Rimo? Does that kind of killing intent really belong to a human?" he asked, still shaken.
"I don't know. I've never heard of such a figure in Meteor City," replied another.
At this time, even the hot-tempered Sixth Elder remained silent.
"We… may have truly released a demon," the Great Elder said, his voice aged by several more years in an instant. The loss of one of his trump cards—someone comparable to a skilled Nen user—pained him deeply.
"Hah! And what if we didn't release him?" the Second Elder scoffed. "Do you think someone with that level of strength needed our permission to leave?"
He sneered, his eyes burning with hatred. "The stronger he is, the better for us. A demon? I wish he were one! It's time those self-righteous fools in the outside world learn what hell really looks like!"
His hatred was not without reason.
His son had died because of a reckless act by one of the V5, who dumped dangerous substances without warning.
A simple mission had turned into an unjust death.
And afterward? They captured an unrelated resident from Meteor City and used him as an excuse to impose sanctions.
Meteor City, as always, endured in silence.
Because in this world, strength decides everything.
Since that day, the Second Elder had changed.
Once moderate, he became more radical than anyone else, pushing for transformation.
Before, there had been no suitable candidate.
Then came Chrollo.
And now—Rimo.
When the others felt fear, he felt something else entirely:
Hope.
If Chrollo represented possibility, then Rimo represented certainty.
The elders fell silent, each burdened with their own thoughts. The Second Elder's loss could one day become their own.
As long as they were controlled by the outside world, none of them were safe.
And somehow, amid that heavy realization, one absurd thought crossed their minds—
Rimo really was quite handsome.
･････
･････
After obtaining the passes, Rimo and Chrollo returned to their base without delay.
They could hardly wait to step beyond the boundaries of Meteor City.
The group waiting in the yard—often jokingly referred to as the "Four Heavenly Kings" among themselves—were the first to notice their return.
"Yo! Commander! Deputy Commander! You're back?" shouted Uvogin, waving energetically. "Did you get the passes?"
With Uvogin's booming voice, it was as if the entire base instantly knew of their arrival.
From inside, Machi and Pakunoda stepped out as well.
Rimo casually took one pass from Chrollo and flicked it toward Uvogin like a spinning blade.
"Whoa!!" Uvogin caught it and examined it curiously. "This tiny thing is a pass? Doesn't look like much… So we can leave now, right?"
"Yes," Chrollo replied calmly. "We can leave anytime."
At those words, everyone's eyes lit up.
Finally—the outside world.
Meteor City had shaped them, but it also confined them. For people like them—restless, powerful, and constantly honing their Nen—it felt like a cage.
"But… what about this place?" Machi asked softly, glancing back at the home filled with memories.
Rimo stepped closer and gently placed his hand on her head, ruffling her hair.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "As long as we're still here, we can recreate everything. Have you forgotten my ability?"
Machi understood immediately.
He wasn't just talking about buildings—but about bonds, memories… everything.
Her cheeks flushed slightly as she brushed his hand away. "I know."
Most of the others were too dense to notice, but Pakunoda was not.
She smirked. "Oh~ the deputy leader is quite considerate toward Machi."
Rimo, seasoned and unbothered, shot back instantly: "Isn't that the same for you, Pakunoda? Especially when it comes to the leader."
Pakunoda froze.
Unlike Rimo, she didn't have the composure to handle such teasing. Her face turned red, and she struggled to respond.
Meanwhile, Chrollo blinked innocently, completely unaware of what was happening.
Another hopeless case.
"Hiss—!"
Just as Rimo smirked in satisfaction, a sharp pain struck his waist.
He turned in shock.
Machi stood beside him, her fingers still poised.
When did you learn that?
Was this some kind of instinctive ability—like a natural Nen reaction unique to women?!
Rimo suddenly felt that some powers… were far more dangerous than any aura.
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