The next day.
On the endless garbage plain, two figures in neat suits and gas masks moved step by step, their footsteps deliberate and measured.
From time to time, small groups of Meteor Street residents sifted through the trash, searching for anything of value. Even as they rummaged, their eyes kept flicking toward the two outsiders, suspicion etched into every glance.
It wasn't just their unusual appearance—the luxurious clothing in such a filthy environment—or the aura they unconsciously exuded. Even without opening their minds, it was obvious that these two were not to be trifled with.
"Captain! How long until we get there? Is the Old City really that far?" Rimo grumbled, eyes scanning the endless sea of garbage.
Compared to Rimo's impatience, Chrollo's composure was absolute: "It's just ahead. We're almost there."
Rimo blinked at him blankly, clearly unconvinced.
"You've said that eleven times already. This is the twelfth…" he muttered.
"It's true this time. Look—just past the fence ahead." Chrollo pointed subtly.
Rimo squinted and indeed saw a fence topped with iron wires, two guards stationed with rifles trained on the approaching figures. Finally, they were getting close.
"So you lied to me before!?" Rimo's sharp tone cut through the monotony, his eyes narrowing at Chrollo.
"Ahahaha, don't worry about details," Chrollo replied lightly, the thirteen-year-old already exuding the air of someone far beyond his age.
Suddenly, the guards tensed. "Halt! This is the City of Elders. No one may enter without permission!"
Rimo's presence carried a faint trace of malicious intent, subtle but unmistakable. Ordinary people, unaware of Nen, would have found his aura more terrifying than any flood beast. His mental pressure alone suggested he could strike at any moment.
Meteor Street residents, sensing even a fragment of this, instinctively kept their distance. Were it not for the necessity of survival, they would have fled miles away.
The guards' defensive stance reminded Rimo that his malice had been unconsciously radiating. He hadn't felt drained at all, and it had slipped his mind entirely.
He shrugged at Chrollo. "Sorry, I forgot to put it away."
Instantly, the oppressive aura vanished. Rimo transformed from a beastly figure in the guards' eyes into an ordinary boy next door. The lethal tension that had been coiled around him dissipated completely.
Chrollo removed his gas mask and stepped forward. "I'm Chrollo. The Elders instructed me to come today."
The guards exhaled in relief. They had no desire to fight these seemingly monstrous figures if it could be avoided.
"It turns out you are Chrollo. Yes, the Elder did instruct me. Please follow me," one of the bearded guards said, turning to lead the way.
Soon, Rimo and Chrollo arrived at the conference hall within the Elder City.
Six elders of Meteor Street were gathered there.
"Boss, I don't understand why we're still testing Chrollo," the second elder said, eyeing the first elder with a puzzled frown. "Now, he's the only one in Meteor Street truly qualified to become strong."
The first elder, white-haired and bearded, sighed deeply. "I know, but we cannot take risks anymore. Our territory of six thousand square kilometers now includes nearly one thousand square kilometers of infected area. If Chrollo or his group is caught while outside…" His words trailed off.
The sixth elder, young and hot-tempered, slammed his fist. "Exactly! That's why change is needed! If those bastards outside use us for their own ends, what are we here for? We are Meteors! Protecting our own!"
"Calm down, Lao Liu. We all want change, but candidate selection must be deliberate. After all, Chrollo is just thirteen. The Elder has valid concerns," the fifth elder said, placing a hand on the sixth elder's arm, guiding him to sit.
The sixth elder obeyed reluctantly, more frustrated at the thousand-square-kilometer infected area than at the Elder's caution.
"But besides Chrollo, do we have any other candidates?" the third elder asked quietly, the question causing a temporary silence.
The truth was, they had no alternative. No matter how well Chrollo performed, he was their only option. What they needed was not instant combat strength, but someone who could truly become strong over time.
Even in terms of real-time combat, many within the escort teams were stronger than Chrollo. Yet those people could not be cultivated here; resources were limited, and the land itself was nutritionally deficient. Mindfulness, tied to life energy, required nutrients to strengthen the body—something Meteor Street could barely provide.
Chrollo's current ability, attained at such a young age, represented their sole hope. If nurtured correctly outside, perhaps he could alter the fate of Meteor Street entirely.
Following the guards through the defense lines, Rimo and Chrollo finally entered what could be called the residential area.
Though called a city, in Rimo's eyes it barely qualified as a town. Houses were rudimentary constructions of cement and wood. Residents were primarily guards, their families, or those fortunate enough to trade valuable finds from the garbage dumps for a place to live.
Regardless, this area was clean compared to the endless landfill beyond. Rimo removed his gas mask, appreciating the absence of garbage in the air.
Finally, they arrived at a building clearly different from the rest, made entirely of concrete.
"This is the Elders' conference hall. They are waiting for you inside. After this, it is not a place for outsiders," the guard said respectfully.
"Thank you for your guidance," Chrollo replied politely.
"Let's go in," Rimo said, following him inside.