IDKjust

apter 827

Added 2025-10-04 22:23:16 +0000 UTC

Chapter 827

Chris was already dead.

But as an S-Class Nen user, a trace of life force still lingered within him. Even so, it was only barely enough to keep him from drawing his final breath—revival was impossible.

“Why?” Chris stared at Ron, eyes burning with fury.

Ron answered plainly. “Because I knew what your side was planning. Partnering with the other side offered me greater benefits. That’s all there is to it.”

“What could Alex possibly give you?”

“Alex? What Alex?” Ron’s tone was calm and indifferent. “You still don’t understand, do you? What benefit could Alex offer me? Do you even know who I’m working with?”

Chris’s pupils contracted—something seemed to dawn on him.

“I’m working with Rosgell,” Ron continued. “Since you’re already preparing to carve up his power, I assume you knew his consciousness was still intact. That’s who I partnered with.”

“He can give me things that none of you ever could.”

“Besides, I don’t particularly like your group. So yes—I chose Rosgell.”

At this point, Ron had fully grasped the situation in Minbo. On the surface, it seemed simple—but beneath that surface was a layered complexity.

Rosgell was a pure idealist. He wanted to turn Minbo into a nation governed strictly by rules. The stricter the rules, the better life would be for its citizens. No favouritism. No corruption. No nepotism.

Everyone living within the system. Those content with their lives could live peacefully; those who sought progress could pursue promotion through effort.

The Great Martial Trail was held once every three years—a nationwide reset of leadership. Rosgell understood that the longer someone held power, the more inevitable their decay. Even the purest-hearted person could not stop the rot from spreading beneath them. But by rotating leadership every three years, this risk could be eliminated.

The participants of the tournament were handpicked by Rosgell. His criteria weren’t excessively strict, but he ensured no complete degenerates slipped through. And if someone did fail to meet expectations, they’d simply be replaced in three years.

Unfortunately, while Rosgell’s ideals were sound, their implementation fell far short. He had underestimated how quickly darkness could take root in the human heart.

Far too quickly.

And that was how people like Chris came to be.

Their goals were simple. They wanted no part in a system that restrained them—even if that restraint was minimal. They couldn’t tolerate even a sliver of limitation. They craved more power. Yet the power they had was all bestowed by Rosgell. That made them feel insecure. So they hatched a plan.

In the final match of the tournament, they would force Rosgell’s remaining energy to manifest. Then they would divide it, consume it, and make it their own. This way they could rule for as long as they lived, and since there would be no more Martial Trail, there would be little competition.

Ron and Alex had no place in their vision. Even if they had agreed to cooperate, Chris’s group would never have spared them.

They were rotten to the core.

Rosgell, despite being a failed idealist, wasn’t dangerous. People like Chris were.

Ron raised his hand and pointed it at Chris’s head.

“Nen Bullet.”

Crack!

A sharp impact rang out as the nen blast struck. Chris’s skull shattered instantly.

Elsewhere, Alex and the others had already secured victory. Without Chris, the rest of the opposition was simply too weak to stand their ground—especially with Miku’s support ability bolstering them.

Eight teams. Four battlefields.

This one was over. But the remaining three battlefronts were still in the middle of heated combat.

Ron moved to a higher vantage point, looking down at the battlefield below. But due to the tournament’s strict regulations, even if he wanted to interfere, he couldn’t. Any attempt to act would trigger the power of the Great Martial Array—a nen-engraved barrier system. Even Rosgell himself couldn’t override that.

This same restriction explained why Chris and the others had to play along with the rules of the tournament, despite their intent to steal Rosgell’s power. The array’s enforcement made open rebellion impossible.

Suddenly, two figures entered Ron’s field of view. His brows twitched.

“Killua? Gon?”

Ron hadn’t expected them to show up here.

After taking Killua back to the Zoldyck estate, Ron hadn’t interfered much further. As an older cousin, he’d already done all he could. If Killua wanted to grow stronger, he would have to rely on himself from here on.

And since Gon never entered his rage-fueled state like in the original timeline, there had been no need to involve Alluka.

That’s why Ron had paid them little attention lately.

“So those two ended up in Minbo… and even joined one of the tournament teams.”

“Are they trying to improve their strength through combat?”

“Compared to before, they really have improved.”

Killua and Gon were on a team not aligned with Chris’s faction. But by now, their group had clearly fallen behind. Most of their allies had already been eliminated. Gon was heavily injured. Killua was in better shape, but trying to hold off the enemy while protecting Gon had put him under extreme strain.

Seeing this, the opposing team’s leader suddenly halted his assault.

“We lost.”

The squad leader chose to surrender voluntarily.

As soon as he spoke, a wave of energy swept over his team. Their power was drawn away and absorbed, then flowed into the bodies of the victors.

But not for Killua and Gon.

As outsiders, they weren’t eligible for power transfer upon victory, nor would they be stripped of power upon defeat.

Ron pulled out a Zodiac card.

“Killua.”

Feeling his white card vibrate, Killua activated En and stepped aside.

“Ron-nii?”

“You’re in Minbo?”

“Yes—wait, Ron-nii, are you here too?”