Chapter 89: Muherr's Invitation
The financial situation was more complicated than Ronin had anticipated.
On one hand, the investment portfolio of a Ten Don was massive, but the overhead of maintaining a global criminal syndicate was equally staggering. Thousands of members required daily payroll, and keeping the organization's status secure required constant "donations" to politicians and higher authorities—a significant recurring expense.
Furthermore, Raymond had invested a massive portion of his liquid capital into the merchandise for the current auction cycle. Since Ronin had stolen those items instead of letting them be sold, the expected revenue hadn't returned to the accounts.
The Yorknew Auction was essentially a massive money-laundering machine for the Ten Dons. Until the goods "circulated," the cash stayed locked in assets.
The problem was simple: Ronin currently had access to roughly 20 Billion Jenny.
To a normal person, it was an unthinkable fortune. But against Battera, the multi-billionaire philanthropist, it was nothing. Battera was a man who wouldn't blink at bidding 50 or 60 Billion Jenny for a single copy of Greed Island.
If there were dozens of copies up for auction, they might have a chance to outmaneuver him. But with only two copies listed in the Southernpiece catalog, Battera would likely steamroll the competition. Outbidding him was impossible.
As for using Mafia influence to pressure Southernpiece? That wouldn't work either. Greed Island was a unique asset with a value that transcended standard black-market economics.
And since Ronin and Kurapika weren't interested in the Phantom Troupe's "rob everything" philosophy, their only path into the game was to be hired by Battera himself.
"Are you genuinely interested in Greed Island?" Ronin asked. He was curious; in the original timeline, Kurapika had shown zero interest in the game.
"I am," Kurapika said. He finally stopped his push-ups, his body drenched in sweat as he deactivated his Ren.
He extended his Little Finger Chain. Tiny needles manifested along the links. As the chain wrapped around his arm, the needles tapped into his pressure points.
There was no pain, only a wave of soothing relief as the chain manually flushed the lactic acid from his muscles and accelerated his recovery.
As the external aura receded, Kurapika grabbed a bottle of water and entered a state of Zetsu.
"My combat experience—and Neon's—is still too limited," Kurapika said, his voice level.
Aura capacity was a matter of time and grind.
But actual combat required intuition and variety.
"In Greed Island, there are monsters to sharpen our techniques, but more importantly, there are players. Real Nen users," Kurapika analyzed. "Not everyone there is a master, but interacting with a variety of abilities will broaden our understanding of Nen. They're the perfect training partners."
"Plus, the game has miraculous items. If we use them correctly, we can track the Phantom Troupe inside the game or even bring items out to hunt them in the real world."
"Essentially, entering the game is the most efficient way to prepare for the final confrontation."
He paused, looking at Ronin. "And if anyone can clear the game and bring those rewards out, it's you, Brother Ronin."
Ronin smiled. He explained what he knew about Battera's motivation.
"From what I've gathered, Battera has a lover suffering from a terminal illness. He's obsessed with clearing the game because of a specific reward: The Breath of Archangel. Rumor has it a single breath from that angel can heal any injury and cure any 'incurable' disease."
"Could your medical abilities, combined with my Holy Chain, replicate that effect?" Kurapika asked.
Ronin shook his head. "My Medical Ninjutsu is specialized for trauma, toxins, and surgery. I can sew a limb back on or purge a pathogen, but genetic diseases or 'incurable' conditions are beyond my current level."
He didn't add that even high-level surgery required a depth of medical knowledge he hadn't fully mastered yet; the Jutsu provided the tool, but the user needed the expertise.
"My chains are the same," Kurapika admitted. His healing was impressive, but it was still just an accelerated version of natural recovery.
It was a redundant skill set for the two of them, but Kurapika didn't regret it. Having two healers in a high-lethal world was a luxury, not a waste. It meant they could push their training to the brink of death every day and be back at 100% by morning.
"We'll let our strength do the talking," Ronin decided. "Once we make contact with Battera's people, we'll show them enough power to convince him that we are his best bet for a clear."
Kurapika nodded, though he remained curious. Ever since the massacre, Ronin had become not just stronger, but infinitely more mysterious.
He remembered Ronin leaving the village a few times in their youth, but after he returned from those trips, he had never stepped foot outside the Kurta territory again.
What did he see out there? Kurapika wondered.
Neon, listening to their conversation, chimed in. "This Greed Island... are the magic items really that cool?"
"They're legendary," Ronin said.
He wondered: If I could bring one item back to reality, which of the 100 Restricted Slot Cards would I choose?
He didn't explain the mechanics to Neon yet. If they went, they would go as a team. She would see it all soon enough.
The roadmap was set. But before they moved on Battera, Kurapika brought up one last detail.
"Before he left, Muherr asked for a private meeting with you," Kurapika said.
Muherr, the leader of the Rock Mercenaries. The man who had faced down Machi at Heavens Arena.
Ronin remembered him well. He was a professional.
"What does he want to talk about?" Ronin asked.
"I'll set it up. Probably in the next day or two; he's still in the city for the auctions," Kurapika said.
Kurapika sank into the plush sofa, letting out a long, weary sigh.
"You don't truly understand the gap until you stand in front of them," Kurapika murmured, thinking of the Spiders. "Even watching you fight them from a distance didn't prepare me for the pressure."
"And until I looked them in the eye... I never imagined that human evil could be so utterly devoid of a bottom line."
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