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013 (Vol 2) HxH: Tombbound Power
🕑 Added 2025-01-27 06:01:02 +0000 UTC"Pour me some more tea~"
"Right away, Chairman."
The ever-diligent bean-faced man didn't see anything unusual. He picked up the teacup and brewed another round of tea while sneaking a glance at Netero, hesitant to speak.
"What is it, Beans?"
"Chairman, aren't you supposed to attend the Twelve Zodiac regular meeting this afternoon?"
"Why?"
"Well... maybe you should see for yourself."
Mr. Bean-Faced Man, too embarrassed to say it outright, pulled out a small mirror from his pocket and handed it to Netero.
The old man took it, held it up, and then...
"Still not healed yet?"
Netero sighed as he examined his reflection.
"Guess I won't be meeting anyone today."
Not only was he in no condition to meet people—
Mr. Beans thought to himself.—he looked absolutely wrecked.
Gone was his usual ageless, spirited aura. Instead, he now sported a completely split white beard, a swollen cheek on the right side, a blackened left eye, and missing patches of eyebrows and hair. His lips had turned a shade of blue, and a band-aid—conveniently printed with a Hunter License—sat firmly on his nose.
The only thing on his face left intact was his ears.
"Tsk~ Kids these days have no respect for their elders. So ruthless... sss~!" Netero grumbled, wincing as he peeled off the band-aid, sucking in air between his teeth from the sting.
Mr. Beans: ...
Chairman, you're clearly enjoying this, aren't you?
He silently groaned, recalling the past five days of Netero's relentless sparring with Ronnel. Though the results of their matches were unclear, one thing was certain—both of them were having a great time.
And neither held back. They went at each other with full force, both walking away with some pretty serious bruises.
Although, strangely, all their injuries were conveniently concentrated on the face.
"Beans, send out a notice. The regular meeting this afternoon is canceled. Tell Potter and the others not to bother coming."
"Got it, Chairman. When should we reschedule?"
"Reschedule? Ugh, coordinating schedules is a pain. Just skip this one and give everyone a vacation until the next regular meeting."
Mr. Beans: ...
Alright, fine. You're the Chairman, after all. Do whatever you want. But...
There are still a ton of matters and documents that need to be addressed!
He clutched his chest, heart aching from the sheer irresponsibility of his boss.
Wherever Killua entered Greed Island, that's where he exited. Which meant his coordinates were set in Battera's private mansion.
By now, most copies of Greed Island had fallen into Battera's hands, and he had already recruited plenty of players. There wasn't any room for Ronnel to simply slot himself in.
But that was hardly an issue.
Even when Chrollo couldn't use Nen, he still managed to get his hands on a console and hired Hisoka to find a Nen Exorcist.
For Ronnel, it was even easier. A simple phone call was all he needed.
"Yo, Ging, you've still got a couple of Greed Island consoles lying around, right?"
"Don't even try denying it. Knowing you, there's no way you didn't keep a backup or two."
"And even if you don't, you should know someone who still has an open slot. Not to mention, isn't the game company basically yours? Shouldn't be a problem to ship out a few more copies, right?"
"Anyway, just figure it out for me. I need to get into Greed Island today. Otherwise, I'll give Gon your phone number. And even if you change it, Ickshonpe can track it down easily. Your choice~"
With Ronnel's casually threatening words hanging in the air, Ging groaned and hung up.
Later that evening, in a small hotel room, a burst of bright white light flared from Ronnel's computer.
As the glow faded, a pristine Greed Island console materialized in front of him.
"Right on time~"
Ronnel grinned, bending down to check.
Ring? Check.
Memory card? Check.
Console body? Perfectly intact.
Two slips of white paper sat on top of the console, each scrawled with a message.
One read:
"The data's been wiped. You're starting from scratch. Also, you're a bastard just like me!!"
Below the note, a crude drawing of a middle finger was sketched out.
Yep, classic Ging.
The other note was much shorter.
"Hahaha! Nice job, Ronnel!"
At the bottom, two letters were signed: "Pe."
It must've been sent through the net by Ickshonpe.
Ronnel chuckled, set the notes aside, put on the ring, slotted in the memory card, and activated his Nen.
With a flash of light, he disappeared from the room.
"So this is the entrance to the game?"
The moment his vision cleared, Ronnel found himself in a futuristic-looking chamber.
"Wow~ The graphics are even better than VR back in my old world." He whistled in admiration before pushing open the door in front of him.
Beyond the door stood a customer service girl—dressed like a robotic NPC but clearly a real person—wearing an unusual sci-fi headset.
"Welcome to the world of Greed Island! Would you like to hear the game instructions?"
Her sweet voice rang out, and Ronnel gave her a nod.
She began her explanation.
Once she finished, Ronnel tapped his chin, eyeing the guide with mild curiosity.
"The tutorial's done. Please enter your in-game name to proceed."
The NPC—Elena—stood quietly, awaiting his response.
"A name, huh? They really wiped everything clean."
Ronnel smirked in thought.
Ging had named himself "Nico," while Hisoka cheekily took "Chrollo" just to mess with the Phantom Troupe.
Choosing a name with impact was an art in itself.
