For the next few days, Rimo's routine barely changed at all.
Wake up. Drag Neon Nostrade out of bed. Eat. Watch her train. Eat again. Force her to sleep. Then sleep himself.
Training?
Training was impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Why would he bother cultivating Nen seriously in this lifetime?
Eating, drinking, and occasionally teasing Neon—wasn't that already enough? Milk tea tasted good, snacks were endless, and watching Neon throw a tantrum when her sweets were confiscated was far more entertaining than sitting still practicing Ten or Ren.
Ever since he awakened Nen—what he casually referred to as "[Reading]"—Rimo had never encountered a true opponent.
Not a rival.
Not even someone who could force him to take a single step back.
Even among Nen users, he had yet to meet anyone capable of breaking through his defenses, let alone pushing him into a real fight.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Rimo began to forget something important—the Hunter world was not safe.
It only felt safe because he had not yet touched the deeper layers.
Apart from the terrifying unknowns like the Dark Continent, Rimo had begun to believe that no one in the known world could threaten him.
Even if someone stronger existed, he believed they wouldn't be able to defeat him anyway.
And as for the Dark Continent… that was something at least a decade away from becoming relevant. There was no urgency.
Under this mindset, Rimo completely shelved the research he had planned for his "[Complete Mimicry]" ability.
After all, maintaining self-hypnosis to stabilize his Nen constructs already required effort. Why bother going further?
As for the Zetsu and En (Nen techniques)—especially En, which he referred to as "[Circle]"—Rimo had been cautious at first.
During the first few nights after eliminating the Evans family, he would expand his En frequently, scanning the surroundings of Villa 21 in Chencora Point.
But as days passed… nothing happened.
No assassins.
No retaliation.
No Nen signatures.
Gradually, the frequency of his En usage decreased.
What began as vigilance slowly turned into negligence.
On the other hand, Adam's integration into the Nostrade Family went even smoother than expected.
After returning that day, Adam immediately sought out Light Nostrade (referred to here as Wright Nosla) and relayed Rimo's instructions.
With Light Nostrade's sharp instincts as a mafia boss, it was obvious he understood Adam's real role—surveillance.
But instead of resisting or showing hostility…
He did the exact opposite.
He promoted Adam directly.
Second-in-command of the entire Nostrade Family.
Even Adam himself was slightly surprised.
After consulting Rimo, he accepted the position.
Light Nostrade's reasoning was simple and brutally pragmatic.
Whether Adam was there or not, he could not escape Rimo's control.
So instead of resisting, he chose cooperation.
By elevating Adam, he achieved two things:
First, he maximized Adam's value—his experience as a mercenary strategist quickly reorganized the Nostrade Family's structure.
Second, he demonstrated absolute loyalty to Rimo.
A calculated move.
A smart move.
And a necessary one.
Within just a few days, the Nostrade Family had already begun absorbing the remnants of the Evans family's territory.
Adam's reputation in the mercenary world wasn't empty talk. His ability to identify talent and assign roles was exceptional.
Hidden talents within the Nostrade Family were uncovered one after another and placed into positions where they could thrive.
At this rate, it wouldn't be long before the Nostrade Family expanded its influence beyond Yorknew's outskirts—perhaps even touching regions connected to Meteor City.
Meanwhile, far away from Chencora Point…
In the Republic of Padokea, Dentora Region, deep within the famous Kukuroo Mountains…
The home of the legendary assassin family:
Zoldyck Family.
Tourists from all over the world came here, hoping to glimpse the infamous estate.
But all they ever saw was the massive Testing Gate—also known as the Gate of Hell.
Few ever passed through it.
Fewer still returned.
Deep within the estate, two figures walked toward the mountain's base.
A tall man with long silver hair.
And a young boy, no older than twelve, with empty, abyss-like eyes.
They were none other than Silva Zoldyck and his eldest son, Illumi Zoldyck.
"Father," Illumi asked calmly, "why bring me on this mission?"
Silva's voice was steady.
"The target this time is a Nen user. Your Nen has already awakened. It's time you observe how Nen is used in real combat."
Illumi nodded.
"I understand."
Silva placed a hand against the massive Testing Gate.
Muscles tightened.
Aura surged.
With a heavy rumble, the gate opened—multiple doors at once.
Each door of the Testing Gate increased exponentially in weight.
Opening all seven required a force exceeding hundreds of tons.
Yet for Silva… it was effortless.
Illumi watched silently.
A flicker of something rare—something almost like admiration—passed through his otherwise emotionless gaze.
Silva noticed.
"How many doors can you open now?"
"Four."
Silva nodded slightly.
"Not bad."
Though there was a trace of regret in his eyes.
Illumi had talent.
Immense talent.
But he had not inherited the silver hair of the Zoldyck main bloodline.
A small detail.
But to Silva, it mattered.
Soon after, they departed.
A private airship carried them toward their destination:
Cambie Town.
A remote, lawless place.
Perfect for underworld dealings.
Perfect for assassinations.
Two days later, they arrived.
There was no landing strip.
So Silva did what he always did.
He jumped.
Carrying Illumi with him.
Aura burst outward upon impact, dispersing the force as they landed smoothly in the wilderness.
"Father."
Illumi handed over a compact navigation device.
The target's location blinked faintly on the screen.
Silva glanced at it briefly.
"South."
With a slight squeeze, the device shattered in his hand—standard procedure. No traces.
Then, without another word, the two began moving.
Fast.
Silent.
Efficient.
Like true assassins.
Their destination:
Chencora Point.
Villa 21.
Back at the villa…
Rimo remained completely unaware.
He had just coaxed Neon to sleep and returned to his room.
Stretching lazily across the bed, he let out a sigh.
"That guy Francis Evans didn't trick me, did he?"
"It's already the sixth day… and nothing."
His voice carried mild annoyance.
Cambie Town had already lost its novelty.
No proper food.
No decent entertainment.
Just casinos, brothels, and chaotic underworld businesses.
Even the local dance scene—whatever strange "Di Ha Tu Ha" nonsense it was—had failed to interest him.
He had gone once.
That was enough.
Compared to that, staying home and teasing Neon was far more enjoyable.
"At least she reacts," he muttered.
After all, unlike the artificial pleasures of this town, Neon's reactions were genuine.
And Rimo… oddly preferred that.
"Forget it," he said, closing his eyes.
"I've waited this long. What's a little longer?"
Outside…
Far beyond his shrinking En…
Two shadows moved silently through the night.
The calm was about to end.
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