Republic of Padokea — Dentora District
The Dentora highlands were quiet tonight, save for the faint wind that howled through the cliffs and the occasional creak of the massive iron gates guarding a certain extravagant estate.
Inside the Black Dragon Syndicate's villa, tension simmered beneath the polished surface.
"Boss," a suited man said carefully, keeping his head low. "It's confirmed. The White Tiger Guild… they've hired an assassin. The contract's on you."
At the far end of the richly furnished room, Yushiro, head of the Black Dragon Syndicate, didn't even flinch. Reclining in his leather chair, he lazily swirled a glass of red wine and smirked.
"Understood," he replied. His tone was calm, almost bored. "Have the boys patrol the grounds. Twenty-four hours. No exceptions."
He waved his hand in dismissal, and his subordinate quickly bowed and backed out, closing the heavy double doors behind him.
Alone now, Yushiro took a long sip of wine, savoring the taste, and chuckled softly to himself.
"The White Tiger Guild… really? They think they can send someone after me?"
He leaned back, eyes glittering with amusement.
"Let them try. Then they'll understand what it means to cross the Black Dragon Syndicate."
His gaze drifted to the sofa across from him, where two figures sat quietly — his secret weapons.
"And as for the assassin…"
His lips curved into a dark, confident smile.
"…I'll leave them to you. The Rakhiel siblings."
The two didn't react to the sound of their name.
On the left, the brother sat perfectly still, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees, his eyes shut like a monk in meditation. His cobalt suit was immaculate, and his jet-black hair jutted upward into a dramatic horn-like spike, impossible to miss.
On the right, his sister leaned back casually, legs draped over the sofa arm. She wore a crimson blazer and a sharp buzzcut, and her fingers danced across a tablet screen with eerie speed. She was grinning — like a cat that had already caught its prey.
"You don't have to worry," the brother murmured, his voice low but steady. His eyes remained closed, as if he didn't even need to see. "We've already taken your money. That means the job is ours."
Subtle waves of Nen shimmered around his head, coiling up the spikes of his hair and twisting into a faint, antenna-like form.
"The villa's under my surveillance now," he continued. "The instant the assassin steps foot on these grounds, I'll know."
"And when that happens…" his sister chimed in, her voice sharp and sing-song, "I'll carve them up into neat little pieces. Just like the last few fools who thought they could run from us."
She giggled then — a light, almost playful sound that somehow managed to send a chill down Yushiro's spine.
Then she glanced up, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"Boss, wanna see my collection? It's… gorgeous."
Yushiro nearly spit out his wine.
"Aha—! No. No, thank you," he said quickly, waving her off with an awkward laugh. "I'd… rather not ruin my appetite before dinner."
The girl just grinned wider, clearly amused at his discomfort.
Still, Yushiro couldn't deny it — these two were terrifyingly effective. The Rakhiel siblings were infamous, wanted in just about every corner of the world. Some called them monsters, others called them geniuses, but everyone agreed on one thing: when they took a job, it got done.
And now, they were working for him.
He raised his glass again, swirling the dark red liquid, and smirked to himself.
"Come on then, assassin… show me what you've got."
Yushiro had worked with the Rakhiel siblings for a long time. He knew exactly what they were capable of.
Even the infamous Zoldyck family, with all their so-called prestige, probably wouldn't fare much better than these two in a real fight.
In Yushiro's mind, the Zoldycks' reputation was nothing but smoke and mirrors — a well-crafted image, propped up by clever marketing.
After all… what kind of real assassins allowed tour groups to stroll through their estate?
He smirked to himself at the thought.
"Only a fool would believe a family of assassins would hang a big sign out front and sell tickets. That's not strength — that's a brand."
Chuckling darkly, Yushiro leaned back in his chair, polished off his glass of wine, and began to daydream about all the ways he'd retaliate against the White Tiger Guild.
That's when a voice rang out from the hallway — clear, bright, and completely out of place.
"What?! Milluki, you're still shopping for game consoles at the mall?!"
"The supermarket sale is starting soon and you're dragging your feet? The old ladies are going to snatch everything off the shelves!"
"If you don't grab that 'Truly Delicious Soy Sauce' while it's still 6.66% off… don't blame me for being heartless tonight! You'll be going to bed hungry!"
The young man's voice carried straight through the heavy door, and the words were so mundane, so… domestic, they clashed violently with the cold, tense atmosphere of the room.
Yushiro froze.
Then — cough, cough! — he nearly choked on his wine.
"…What in the—?! Who's taking a personal call in the middle of a job?!"
His face flushed with anger, and he slammed his palm onto the table, making the wine glass jump.
"Outrageous! I want to see who has the guts to yak on the phone while on duty! Get in here — now!"
The door swung open.
And in walked… someone Yushiro didn't recognize at all.
The young man who entered looked nothing like the hardened gangsters Yushiro was used to seeing.
Tall and slender, dressed simply, he had the kind of sunny, carefree air that didn't belong in a den of killers. His handsome face practically glowed with vitality, and his bright eyes shone with a kind of warmth Yushiro hadn't seen in years.
The stranger gave a polite little wave and an apologetic smile.
"Ah… sorry about that. Didn't mean to interrupt."
"I'm in kind of a rush, so… if you don't mind, I'll make this quick."
Yushiro blinked.
Who… was this?
And what the hell was he even talking about?!
Before Yushiro could even open his mouth to respond, he noticed something strange — something wrong.
Across from him, the Rakhiel siblings had suddenly stood up, their bodies tense…
But…
Where were their heads?
Yushiro's heart dropped into his stomach.
And then —
The world spun.
For a moment, he saw himself.
Still sitting there in his favorite black suit. Yes, that was right… his suit was impeccable.
But…
Where was his head?
He never found the answer.
Because the next thing he saw wasn't crimson wine anymore —
It was black.
A cold, endless black.
"Hey, Milluki — can you hear me? Did you get the soy sauce?"
The young man who'd just left Yushiro's office strolled casually down the corridor, chatting on his phone.
The luxurious villa around him was eerily quiet now.Dozens of mafioso-style guards lay sprawled along the carpeted hallway — unconscious, knocked out cold.
On the other end of the line came a flurry of static, followed by a breathless, panicked voice.
"B-Brother Hiro! Don't rush me! I risked my life to get you ten whole bottles! But now—now I'm surrounded by this scary mob of old ladies! What do I do?!"
Hiro chuckled softly to himself.
"Excellent work, Milluki. Well done. Hang in there — I just wrapped up here. I'll come back you up right away."
And with that, his figure blurred and vanished, leaving nothing but a faint breeze behind.
"Driver, take me to Padokea MegaMart, please," Hiro said as he slid into the backseat of a taxi a few moments later.
He unscrewed the cap of his thermos and took a long sip of steaming tea.
The driver peeked at him in the rearview mirror, smiling knowingly.
"Ah, young man carrying a thermos! You must really care about your health, huh?"
Hiro laughed easily.
"You've got to start early, right? Can't let yourself wear out too young."
Then he leaned his head back against the seat and added:
"I'll close my eyes and rest for a bit, if you don't mind. Just take your time."
"No problem at all. Long day, huh? I get it."
The car settled into a calm silence as it rolled through the quiet streets.
Hiro mentally reviewed the shopping list in his head one last time. Satisfied everything was accounted for, he finally allowed himself to relax.
The pantry at home was getting low on supplies. Today's supermarket special was the perfect chance to restock everything at once.
After all, my family deserves to eat well — healthy, nutritious, delicious meals every day.
Being an assassin was exhausting, both physically and mentally. Nutrition was important. Hiro knew this better than anyone.
After all — he'd been a god-tier assassin back on Blue Star in his previous life. Cold, ruthless, alone.Raised by an underground organization with no love, no family, no warmth.
But now…
Now, he was Hiro Zoldyck — eldest son of the most legendary assassin family in the world of Hunter × Hunter.
The Zoldycks.
The same family that produced the charming, mischievous boy he'd once admired on-screen: Killua Zoldyck.
Back then, Hiro had envied Killua so much. They'd both been trained as living weapons since childhood…But Killua had something Hiro never did.
A family that loved him.A home.Even a friend like Gon.
How wonderful would it have been, Hiro once thought, to live like that?
But by the time he died, his life on Blue Star was still nothing but a lonely, empty cycle of missions and blood.
That was why he cherished this second chance so much.Why he'd protect this family — his family — with everything he had.
This time… I won't let it slip away.
Sitting there in the cab, Hiro clenched his fist lightly on his knee, his eyes shining with quiet resolve.
As the heir of the Zoldyck family… I, Hiro Zoldyck, will never disappoint them. Anyone who dares harm my family—!
I'll repay them tenfold. No — a hundredfold. I swear it!
Just then, his phone buzzed.
It was a message from Milluki, his adorable (and slightly spoiled) little brother:
[The old ladies at the supermarket are terrifying!][Brother, save me! I can't hold on much longer! ~]
Hiro chuckled to himself as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.
He leaned forward and said casually to the driver:
"No need to rush. Drive safe, alright?"
"Got it," the driver replied cheerfully.
Oh, Milluki…
This is only the beginning of your hellish weight-loss journey.
There's still a long road ahead. Don't blame your brother for being heartless — I'm only thinking of your health, after all~.