Back when Kaizen was watching the original timeline, he had doubts—was Wing truly sent by the Hunter Association to guide Killua and Gon? There had been no clear evidence to prove it.
Logically, the theory held up. But logic alone wasn't enough.
Proof. That was everything.
Wing had acted like someone reluctant to teach them. As if it was purely out of concern that he stepped in—worried Gon and Killua would be chewed up by the harsh reality of Heavens Arena.
Out of kindness, nothing more.
But in this world, things were different.
Kaizen had personally received a commission from Chairman Netero. And when Sadaso had raised questions about Wing's identity, Netero had contacted Kaizen directly.
So, Kaizen knew for a fact—Wing had taken on a commission from Netero.
A formal job.
Just like Kaizen had accepted a commission to help train Hanzo. That much was certain. So, in the original timeline too, Wing must have received a commission to guide Killua and Gon.
Which raised a very strange question—
Why pretend it was all a coincidence?
Why didn't Wing approach them from the beginning?
Why did he wait until they were about to hit the 200th floor before stepping in?
...
"The most likely explanation?" Kaizen mused. "Wing didn't think they were ready. He was testing them, watching from the shadows."
"In the original story, Wing only agreed to teach them Nen because he was backed into a corner."
"If Killua and Gon hadn't reached the 200th floor... he never would've shown them Nen that early."
"And honestly? Wing didn't even teach them that much."
"They only got the basics—Ten, Zetsu, Ren, and Hatsu."
"Gyo wasn't really covered. Enhancing one's aura into a punch... that's not what real advanced use looks like."
"Take Uvogin, for instance. His Big Bang Impact wasn't just about raw Ren. That was a technique, built on mastery."
"Killua's lightning techniques weren't learned from Wing either. They came from years of assassin training."
"Maybe that's why Bisky ended up becoming their real mentor later?"
Kaizen felt the idea made a lot of sense.
Not that it meant Wing was in the wrong.
Any Nen user worth their salt had principles. Wing probably had his own ideas—his own standards—for when and how a person should be introduced to Nen.
Maybe he believed people needed a certain age, a certain amount of mental and emotional maturity.
And if someone didn't meet his criteria, he taught them in a roundabout way instead.
Kaizen recalled how, even in the original timeline, Wing hadn't told Gon and Killua about the real Four Major Principles of Nen upfront. He'd basically made up a different structure.
Kaizen didn't think Wing was wrong per se.
Still, his judgment in this area felt too rigid. Too... stuck.
There was no reason to delay Gon and Killua's exposure to Nen when they clearly had the drive and potential.
Then another thought crossed his mind—
"Did Chairman Netero already know this?"
"Maybe he felt that Wing's attachment to this belief had gone too far. That it was starting to become a kind of obsession."
"So, he sent Gon and Killua Wing's way... to make Wing reflect?"
"Maybe it wasn't Netero. Could it have been Bisky?"
"After all, Bisky was Wing's teacher."
The situation reminded Kaizen of the relationship between Illumi and Killua. Illumi believed Killua was going down the wrong path and tried to "correct" him in his own twisted way.
Silva, at first, stayed hands-off. But deep down, he probably hoped that Illumi would come to see his own flaws.
Kaizen tapped his chin, thinking.
"But overall, it's nothing to worry about."
"At worst, things will play out just like in the original timeline."
Kaizen wasn't particularly concerned.
...
Deep in the desert.
After Kaizen left, silence fell over the dunes.
But in that silence... something stirred.
In the sky above, a bird soared peacefully—then suddenly jolted, as if struck.
Its wings failed. Its body dropped like a stone.
Smack.
It hit the sand and dissolved into sludge.
Out of the ground, thick black liquid began to bubble—like oil surfacing from the deep.
It swarmed the bird's remains.
Death oozed from every ripple.
All around, corpses hidden in the dunes were drawn to it. They slid toward the black pool as if pulled by gravity, melting into it bit by bit.
The mass swelled.
It grew... and grew.
Then, a silhouette appeared at the desert's edge.
"Where's Kroll? Where did he go?" asked a young man, his brow furrowed.
"Why isn't he here?"
"Did the ritual to revive Rosgel-sama fail? Or... did it succeed?"
Then a horrifying possibility struck him.
"Wait... could Kroll have run off with Rosgel-sama?"
...
Right then, something monstrous stirred in the sand.
The black mass had grown enormous. Shapeless—no head, no eyes, no mouth. Just an overwhelming aura of dread.
It surged toward the young man.
He turned to run, panic in his eyes. But when he looked back—
His heart stopped.
"What the hell is that?!"
The next moment, the black liquid burst apart into thousands of droplets.
Like rain, they flew straight at him from every direction.
He couldn't dodge.
A single drop landed on his shoulder.
Szzzt.
It sizzled. Like hot oil hitting skin.
Like acid melting flesh.
Black smoke rose in curls.
Agony twisted the youth's face as he screamed in anguish.
He tried to flee.
Too late.
The liquid rained down, splashing across his body, eating through his skin, muscle, and bone.
His cries were drowned out.
Soon, there was nothing left of him. Only more black sludge, merging back into the pool.
The liquid retreated, returning to its lair beneath the sand.
The desert... fell quiet again.
Still. Empty.
As if nothing had happened.
...
In the Republic of Mimbo, far away, a middle-aged man sat at a desk, scowling.
"Why have all communications gone dark?"
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Fanfic is completed on patreon.com/FanficsHub (1047 chapters in total)