Chapter 139: Battera
The billionaire Battera was over sixty years old, but the woman he loved was
barely in her early twenties.
For a long time, the public assumed the girl seen at his side was his
granddaughter. Battera didn't care for their gossip. To him, she was his
soulmate—a girl who loved him for who he was, indifferent to his massive fortune
or the decades between them.
But fate was a cruel playwright. A horrific car accident had left the girl in a
persistent vegetative state.
Battera had spent a king's ransom on the world's elite doctors, but the best
they could offer was "stabilization." She remained a sleeping beauty, unable to
wake, unable to heal.
In his desperation, Battera turned to the supernatural. He heard of two
legendary "Spell Cards" hidden within the game Greed Island.
The first was The Breath of Archangel, a card capable of healing any wound and
curing any disease. The second was The Witch's Rejuvenation Potion, an item said
to restore one's youth.
To obtain these treasures, Battera was willing to sacrifice everything. He had
spent years liquidating assets to buy every copy of the game that hit the market
and hiring the strongest Nen users money could buy to clear it for him.
Over the years, he had acquired 22 consoles and sent over a hundred players into
the digital world. Yet, not a single one had returned with a win.
The game, designed specifically for Hunters, was a gauntlet that defied common
logic.
Battera had recently increased the completion reward to a staggering 30 Billion
Jenny, but the "talent" it attracted continued to disappoint him.
Today followed the usual routine. A group of applicants arrived at his castle,
seeking a contract to enter the game.
Battera was used to the cycle. Usually, he didn't even need to show his face.
Sabazushi, the head of his private militia, handled the initial screening. If
Sabazushi called him, it meant the applicants actually possessed a measurable
level of power.
Kurapika had located Battera's estate during their time in Yorknew. After
leaving Gasland, the group headed straight for the billionaire's fortress.
As they crossed the threshold, the armed guards under Sabazushi's command tried
to intimidate them. They fanned out, fingers on triggers, radiating a practiced,
professional hostility.
But Team Ronin wasn't a group of amateurs.
Among the five of them, not one could be considered weak. Even the newcomer,
Abaki, radiated the poise of a veteran. Sabazushi, a Nen user himself, performed
a quick aura scan and felt his stomach drop. He didn't bother with a "test." He
picked up his radio and called the boss.
Ronin scrutinized Sabazushi as they waited.
The man had some skill, but in Ronin's estimation, he was barely stronger than a
fresh 200th-floor rookie at Heavens Arena. To an ordinary person, he was a god;
to Ronin, he was a speed bump.
Battera arrived shortly after, flanked by several personal bodyguards.
None of them were familiar faces from Ronin's memory. It seemed that at this
point in the timeline, the Single-Star Jackpot Hunter Tsezguerra had not yet
been hired.
Kurapika took point on the negotiations, as Ronin had no patience for corporate
pleasantries.
The exchange was efficient. Battera was impressed by the team's aura, but his
answer wasn't what they hoped for.
"It's unfortunate," Battera sighed, looking genuinely regretful. "If the
consoles at the Yorknew auction hadn't been hijacked, I could have squeezed you
all in. But right now, every one of my machines is currently occupied."
"I can only provide two available slots. Three of you would have to wait for an
opening."
"If a character dies inside the game, or is forcibly transported out... does
their slot become available?"
Ronin's first contribution to the conversation made the room go cold.
The subtext was clear: I'll kill the useless players to make room for my team.
Battera tensed, but part of him—the pragmatic billionaire—secretly agreed. From
a business perspective, the people currently holding his slots were failing to
provide a return on investment. If they were replaced by more competent units,
his chances of clearing the game would skyrocket.
"Yes," Battera answered cautiously. "A dead or departed player relinquishes
their connection to the console."
He didn't explicitly say "go kill them," but his look told them he wouldn't
mourn the loss of a failed contractor.
Ronin had no intention of becoming a serial killer for a game slot.
He didn't care about Genthru (the Bomber) or the internal politics of the game.
Unless someone provoked him, he wouldn't waste effort on a purge.
His plan was simpler: enter the game, find a way to "force-exit" the dead-weight
players through spell cards or intimidation, and then coordinate with Kurapika
outside to fill the vacancies.
"Then Neon and I will go in first," Ronin decided.
It was the most logical pairing. Shizuku was their strongest fighter after
Ronin; paired with Kurapika's strategic mind, the two of them could ensure their
interests remained secure in the real world while Ronin was "offline."
"Agreed," Kurapika nodded.
Battera looked at Ronin with a new level of respect. He sensed that this group
wasn't here for the 30 Billion Jenny. They had their own agenda.
Power, motive, and a total disregard for the current status quo—this was a
dangerous combination. Battera realized that his own security detail couldn't
guarantee his safety if these people turned on him.
He was a master of reading people. He knew when to fold and when to cooperate.
Sabazushi is outclassed, Battera thought as he watched the group.
As the meeting ended, Battera began contemplating his friend's earlier
recommendation. He needed a true expert to vet these people and safeguard his interests.
Maybe it was time to call Tsezguerra.
If 30 Billion wasn't enough to secure a clear, maybe he should raise the bounty
to 50 Billion? Money was the only weapon he had, and he intended to use it until his lover breathed again.
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