The next day.
Rimo woke up precisely according to the biological clock he had set.
This time, Machi wasn't lying next to him. Yesterday, the only reason he had sensed a faint unease was due to Rimo's attitude toward Nion just a reflex of the brain, nothing more.
After a quick shower, Rimo went straight to the living room. His intuition told him that today, the brigade would face a temporary separation.
After yesterday's battle with the Fanobi family, Rimo could feel their unspoken dissatisfaction with their own strength. Especially after witnessing Rimo's effortless elimination of the Quartet. They had left Meteor Street in high spirits, yet there was a subtle itch they wanted to grow stronger.
Though none could hope to match Rimo immediately, at least they refused to be a burden. Most hadn't even fully developed their Nen abilities and would need to grow at their own pace.
Upon entering the living room, Rimo saw that everyone had gathered. Wright Nosla stepped forward, holding an ID card, a bank card, and a mobile phone in both hands. He handed them over with utmost respect:
"Rimo, these are the ID cards processed yesterday and the belongings left by the adults after they attacked the Fanobi family. I've converted these items into ringni, divided them into eight portions, and deposited them into the bank cards for each adult. The mobile phones are for communication between the adults."
Rimo studied Wright Nosla for a moment and said genuinely, "Nosla, you really are talented in this area."
This was no mockery. Rimo genuinely admired Wright's skill. Being able to manipulate situations and curry favor effortlessly was a talent few could master a skill that could elevate one far beyond ordinary limits. In this world, the clever often thrive while the ignorant stumble.
To outsiders, Wright Nosla might appear a sycophant or a clown, but his calculated deference could yield more in a single day than most earn in a lifetime. Rimo understood that such abilities were invaluable.
"Lord Rimo has done well, and these are merely the duties I should perform," Wright Nosla said humbly, unaffected by Rimo's praise. Logically, their transaction was complete; he owed Rimo nothing more.
Yet after witnessing the Fanobi family's downfall and seeing Rimo's power firsthand through surveillance and reports, Wright's ambitions had awakened. The Fanobi family, armed with RPGs and elite guards, had been no match for Rimo and his young brigade. The disparity was obvious.
If his family could ally with Rimo long-term, could the Nosla family escape Gambi Town and perhaps even challenge the Ten Old Men the apex of the global underworld? This thought seized Wright's mind immediately.
Thus, he ensured the Fanobi property was fully returned, flawlessly processed. In terms of combat power, he knew his family could contribute little. But showing competence in logistics and life's minutiae could demonstrate usefulness. If it gained him a place among Rimo's circle, even as a lifelong subordinate, he would comply wholeheartedly.
Wright Nosla instructed his subordinates to value all the property overnight, convert it to ringni at maximum rates, divide it among the eight bank cards, and return them.
"Okay, Nosla, you may step out now. We have things to discuss."
"Yes, Lord Rimo." Wright stepped back respectfully, leaving without stating his desires. He trusted Rimo to make judgments; his duty was complete, and fate would decide the rest.
Once Wright left, Rimo looked at his brigade. Everyone exchanged glances, silent. He broke the quiet with a smile:
"If I'm not mistaken, everyone is thinking the same thing."
Chrollo chuckled. "Indeed, we all aim to improve each other."
"Originally, I didn't create this brigade to bind everyone together at all times," Rimo continued. "It's meant to help each other when facing goals that cannot be tackled alone. Separation, then, is inevitable. Currently, we are eight strong five short of the thirteen I envisioned. As the leader, it's my responsibility to find the rest."
Uvogin grinned. "I'm too weak now, too far behind the deputy head. I plan to seek out opportunities to grow sooner or later, I'll hit nuclear-level power with a single punch!"
Rimo pinched his chin. "Uvogin, I have a place to recommend you."
Uvogin's eyes lit up. "Where?"
"Sky Arena," Rimo said.
Chrollo nodded. "Indeed, Uvogin will thrive there. The compatibility is perfect."
Uvogin twitched. "Captain, Deputy Chief, what is this place?"
The others leaned in. Rimo shot Chrollo a look. Chrollo understood and shrugged helplessly.
"Sky Arena," Chrollo explained, "is a holy place for fighters worldwide. It has 251 floors, reaching 991 meters high the fourth tallest building globally. Each floor hosts combat arenas. Up to the 200th floor, victories allow advancement. Below the 200th floor, winnings are monetary; the 50th floor grants roughly 50,000 yen, the 100th floor about 1 million yen, and above the 150th floor, bonuses exceed 10 million yen. At the 190th floor, the reward approaches 200 million. Beyond the 200th floor, the prize is reputation, not money. Competitors there are all Nen users, while below are mostly ordinary fighters without Nen."
Rimo's eyes gleamed. "How about it, Uvogin? Doesn't this sound like the perfect training ground?"
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