HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

"Specialist…" Maro repeated, his mind already labeling the Specialist affinity as the strongest of all.

"I heard Transmuters are said to be moody and prone to lying. That red-haired guy from the exam was a Transmuter too," Cyr remarked casually, glancing at Maro.

You really can't judge a book by its cover. Who would've thought this guy would share the same category as Hisoka?

"To think I'd share an affinity with him…" Maro muttered, visibly shaken. He couldn't believe it.

Not only did he fail to have the same affinity as the person he admired, but he was in the same category as that clownish-looking redhead…

"What does it matter? Hisoka's strength isn't bad. If you had his skills, you could reach the 200th floor effortlessly," Cyr said, stretching out his legs, leaning back, and raising his hands.

"That's true…" Maro bowed his head, unable to refute.

Though he disliked the flamboyant, eccentric redhead, Maro had to admit Hisoka's strength far surpassed his own.

If he were that strong, he wouldn't be dragging others down.

"I don't know much about Transmuter abilities…" Cyr rested his chin in his hands, deep in thought.

While Sukuna loved playing the role of a teacher—often barging into others' memories or near-death experiences to give impromptu lectures—that was due to his centuries of experience and tendency to meddle.

When it came to nen, however, Cyr had no such luxury. His abilities were honed through trial, error, and a fair amount of getting beaten up by Syd.

"Nen abilities are usually tied to what you desire most. Is there anything you deeply crave?" Cyr asked casually.

Maro frowned, thinking for a long while before shaking his head. "I'm not sure, sir. I don't think I've ever truly craved anything."

The only thing he wished for was… to see his reflection in Cyr's eyes.

To be acknowledged, respected, even valued by Cyr, becoming his most trusted subordinate.

"Well, that's boring," the white-haired boy said, raising an eyebrow. His tone was indifferent, completely uninterested.

Would the Hunter Association assign mentors to train newcomers? Someone to specifically teach nen to beginners?

Cyr didn't have the patience for teaching. He wasn't some thousand-year-old, lonely recluse trying to pass the time.

Better to leave the job to the Association, though he wasn't sure if they'd bother to teach someone who already had nen.

"Go to bed. We'll continue tomorrow," Cyr said, standing up and waving dismissively as he headed toward his reserved room without looking back.

Once a fighter reached the 200th floor, they were given private accommodations. If all went well, Cyr would reach the 200th floor tomorrow.

And he didn't foresee any problems.

Maro watched as Cyr disappeared into his room, then turned and walked in the opposite direction.

The Heaven's Arena offered training rooms, though they came at a cost.

Maro didn't mind spending some money. Though he didn't have much on hand, he was more than capable of earning a little extra if needed.

...

Cyr sat in his room, sorting through the thoughts that had consumed him during the day.

Beyond the sudden realization about his compatibility levels, he had also been contemplating restrictions and vows for his nen abilities.

"I've decided," Cyr murmured. "I want a degree of choice—at least the ability to pick one card myself."

"To make it fair, I'll change the rules: instead of drawing three cards at a time, I'll allow myself to draw five cards at once."

"To gain the right to choose one card, two out of the initial three must always be debuff cards."

In other words, the first three cards drawn would always consist of two debuff cards and one buff card.

"The fourth card will be completely random."

It could be either a buff or a debuff, depending on luck.

"And I'll reserve the right to choose the fifth card," Cyr added, his voice steady.

That final card would be selected strategically based on the current lineup—choosing whether to prioritize buffs or debuffs.

With this setup, the five cards drawn would result in two possible combinations:

1. Three debuff cards and two buff cards, or

2. Three buff cards and two debuff cards.

Either way, Cyr ensured that the three-card stack would yield the maximum possible effect.

Now, if these terms still weren't enough to balance the ability…

"Then I'll add one more condition: to activate the effects, at least two of the cards must be used by the same person, and all five cards must be applied simultaneously."

In other words, if Cyr used three buff cards on himself, the remaining two debuff cards would have to be applied to a single other target.

Additionally, the ability would now limit its target pool to two individuals—no more splitting cards between multiple people.

"Let's tack on another restriction while we're at it," Cyr muttered, lying back on the bed, hands resting behind his head. "After drawing five cards, the ability's cooldown will double. It'll go from 24 hours to 48 hours before I can draw again. But the duration of each card's effect will remain the same—still 24 hours."

Originally, he could draw three cards once a day, allowing him to draw six cards every two days. Under the new system, he would draw five cards every two days, effectively losing one card but ensuring the three-card stack reached its full potential.

This adjustment was efficient and fair.

Not that he needed to draw cards every day. For Cyr, this tradeoff was minor—he barely felt it. And, truthfully, he had no interest in taking on a greater restriction.

After all, he wasn't like Kurapika or Gon, driven by deep-seated grudges or overwhelming desperation. Nor was he a battle fanatic willing to sacrifice everything for ultimate power.

Simply put, Cyr lacked the obsession and determination required for higher-stakes vows.

"For now, this should be enough," Cyr muttered to himself, closing his eyes. "I'll figure out the rest later if I think of anything."

With that, he drifted into thought, resting comfortably on the bed.

Cyr decided to hold off on drawing cards until after he woke up. If he drew them now and couldn't use them within half an hour, the effects would automatically apply to him, which felt like a waste.

With his thoughts preoccupied by his nen abilities and compatibility levels, he gradually drifted into sleep.

---

The next morning, Cyr stepped out of his room, well-rested and ready to begin his day.

"Good morning, sir," greeted Marlo, who appeared to have stayed up all night and was already waiting outside his door. He held a neatly prepared breakfast in his hands, offering it to Cyr with a low bow.

Perhaps due to his upbringing in a mafia family, Marlo was adept at knowing how to treat his superiors. He could read the subtlest of cues with precision.

"Ah," Cyr said lazily, taking the breakfast without a second thought. He didn't ask whether Marlo had trained overnight or how he was doing, showing no interest whatsoever as he casually walked away.

Marlo hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to follow him, but in the end, he turned in the opposite direction to head toward his own match on the lower floors.

---

"The winner is Cyr!" the announcer declared with enthusiasm, raising their hands high.

"Boring…" Cyr muttered under his breath, completely unfazed by yet another opponent knocked out cold and unable to continue. Without sparing the crowd or his fallen challenger a glance, he turned and walked off the stage.

After a few casual matches, Cyr had climbed to the 190th floor.

Once past this threshold, matches started to take longer to arrange, leaving Cyr with a lot of downtime between battles. To pass the time, he decided to check in on Maro's progress.

It seemed Maro had already climbed to the 100th floor?

For Cyr, locating Maro was effortless. Every individual's nen signature was unique, and he simply followed its presence to find him.

---

At the 99th floor's C Arena, Cyr found Maro in the middle of a match.

"Our contestants Marlo and Biassi are locked in a fierce exchange! Both fighters seem evenly matched—it's impossible to predict who will come out on top!" the announcer shouted dramatically, their voice brimming with energy.

"Of course, Maro is a newcomer to this floor, while Biassi has reached the 99th floor three times before! Without a doubt, Biassi is an experienced competitor!" The subtle undertone of the announcer's words suggested that Biassi had the higher odds of winning, almost as if encouraging the audience to bet accordingly.

Cyr's eyes fell on the stage, observing the fight.

Maro was entangled in close combat with his opponent, exchanging blows in a brutal and relentless struggle.

It was no longer a simple exchange of punches, where one fighter threw a blow and then waited for the other to counter. Instead, the two were locked in a tightly contested, grappling skirmish.

Maro had certainly improved. When Cyr first picked him up, the man couldn't even throw a proper punch on his own.

But still…

"What an ugly fight," Cyr said aloud, his voice dripping with disdain. He made no effort to conceal his contempt.

°°°

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