"Hello."
Roy returned the smile, folded his legs up on the chair, and pulled out a book to read as well—not a travelogue, but Zigg's notebook, opened to the page on "hookless fishing," which he studied closely.
The 50 points of "Life Energy" gained from killing Moritonio he'd left unspent on his panel. The gate lounge was crowded—mostly Hunter Exam candidates—competitors eyeing each other. Consuming it here and risking a brief period of weakness would be unwise.
Even with Gotoh on watch—
Ding-ling-ling—
The airport announcement: it was now 10 p.m.
More people swelled into the hall. At one point Roy's gaze shifted toward the entrance…
Two tall men flanked a boy as he came through security, drawing a lot of eyes.
The boy had a beautiful head of blond hair, straight-backed, sharply dressed—the very picture of a handsome young star stepping into the street, with two bodyguards in tow. A slight smile—and a cluster of fangirls swooned.
"All three are Nen users," Gotoh murmured, having followed Roy's glance.
So they were…
None of the three bothered to conceal their "aura," almost as if they wanted it known; the boy's was the boldest, a bucket-thick column rising over his head.
Roy watched him a little longer—oddly familiar, like he'd seen him somewhere before.
The blond boy's instincts were sharp; his eyes flicked over too, the corner of his mouth tilting up.
"Hey~ Hill-chan—you smiled. Didn't I tell you to smile more? The ladies'll eat it up…"
"Shut up, Clark!" The thin guard snapped at the fat one, then frowned at the boy. "Pariston, what did you see?"
From long experience, the boy wouldn't do anything meaningless. A sudden smile meant someone was about to be unlucky—or already on the way.
"I spotted someone interesting…"
Pariston drew his gaze back and stopped a ball with his foot. The lounge wasn't only exam candidates; a father and son were waiting for flight L754 to the Kukan'yu Kingdom, killing time with a bit of kick-around. The boy missed; the ball rolled right through his legs—coming to rest by Pariston's shoe. He asked politely, "Big brother, can you pass it back?"
Pariston's smile was warm. "Sure."
He raised his foot—and brought it down hard. POP!
The ball exploded under his heel—rubber shreds flying. All that was left was a pointed little shoe and a dumbstruck little boy.
"Waaah…" Three seconds later, he wailed. Pariston's brows rose; he wore a look of pure enjoyment.
Destruction… the cuter the thing, the more it begged to be broken… ah—subarashii…
He spread his arms, lifted his chin, shut his eyes. The boy's father stormed over—only to be shoved aside with one meaty palm by the fat guard, Clark.
"Who the hell is that? What a rotten temper…"
"Man, he's begging for a beating…"
"Shh—don't let him hear. Bet he's some rich young master of a big corp—came to gawk at the Hunter Exam…"
Whispers buzzed. The father took his hit, realized they'd picked the wrong fight, and hustled his son away. A hundred eyes fell on the blond boy; he felt no shame—only more enjoyment—as if…
From the moment he entered the lounge, this had become his stage, every reaction part of his act.
But even that didn't seem to satisfy him. He opened his eyes, cleared his throat, swept the room. Hand to chest, he bowed—and then straightened and spoke loudly:
"Hello, everyone. Allow me to introduce myself."
"I am Pariston Hill, a candidate for this year's Hunter Exam. I'd like to ask a favor."
He paused—mentioning the exam drew every gaze—and smiled in satisfaction. "Please withdraw from this exam so I can advance."
"A—" The lounge went silent, like someone hit mute.
The mummy in bandages… the snake handler with a cobra round his neck… the bare-chested muscleman… the bald ninja doing handstand presses—one by one, every brow furrowed.
Including the girl to Roy's right—she finally tore her eyes from the travelogue, frowned at the boy, and, just audible, muttered two words—"piece of trash."
Exactly—trash.
Gotoh agreed; any sound mind would think the same. He pushed up his glasses and edged closer to Roy, cutting a sidelong look…
The young master watched quietly, a little surprised?
It was… more than he'd expected.
He hadn't thought he'd run into this famous face—future Vice Chairman of the Association, one of the Zodiacs: the Rat. Two quotes drifted through his mind:
"I only feel happy when I'm hated."
"When I see something cute, to be honest, I can't help wanting to hurt it—for no reason at all."
Pariston said it, and lived it. In the Ant arc, maneuvering Netero into death—he and Beyond were in that weave. The irony—one was Netero's handpicked subordinate, forever needling him for fun; the other, the prodigal son who'd do anything to reach the Dark Continent…
"Humanity's strongest"—what a life.
"Who the hell do you think you are? You say 'drop out' and we drop out? You think the exam is your family's?"
"Kids these days—don't know the height of the sky. Think a pile of family cash can buy everything—ridiculous."
"Hey—got the guts? Come spar. Let me see what you're made of if you dare talk like that!"
The room erupted. Pariston had stirred a hornet's nest.
If looks were knives, he'd have been carved to the bone already.
Which was precisely what he wanted…
Subarashii… just right… Hate me. Despise me. Let the spittle fly hard and fast…
He ducked his head, savoring, holding back a laugh. Then he raised a finger, scanned the room, and shushed them gently. "I think you misunderstand me… I'm only trying to save everyone time. Because—"
"—you're all trash?"