HxH: Ryomen... Satoru?

Larry Baya, male, 29 years old, a Class B wanted criminal, charged with theft.

Specializing in disguise and infiltration, Larry frequently used these skills to sneak into the estates of wealthy individuals and commit theft.

With stolen goods valued at over one billion, he earned a Class B bounty, worth 50 million.

Larry Baya despised the bounty on his head, finding it laughably low. Any single item he stole was often worth more than 50 million.

However, this time, the wealthy victim had hired a Contract Hunter. Larry was caught mid-heist and barely managed to escape after exhausting all his tricks. The police pursued him relentlessly, so he decided to hide at the Heavens Arena to evade capture temporarily.

After a while, once the police gave up the search, he'd make his move again.

Due to certain reasons, the police had no jurisdiction over the Heavens Arena, and anyone could enter the competitions there as long as they had an ID. Larry always carried at least five different IDs, so picking one at random was no issue.

It was also an excellent chance to earn some extra money.

The lower-level fighters were all weak anyway.

On the surface, Larry appeared to be an ordinary, slightly tired middle-aged man, but inwardly, he arrogantly judged the weaklings around him.

Until—

"Larry Baya, hello there."

A cold hand gripped his throat tightly, exerting a force that seemed intent on snapping his neck. It felt like being coiled by a venomous serpent, ready to crush him at any moment.

The voice was cold and low, yet it carried the unmistakable tone of youth.

Larry's face contorted in fear. In his peripheral vision, he could only glimpse a pale white—a color that could have been skin or hair.

When had this person appeared in front of him? And when had they grabbed his throat?!

Larry wore a pained expression of despair, wanting to plead that they had the wrong person—that he wasn't Larry Baya. But the boy gave him no chance to explain.

"Come with me."

With those words, the hand around his neck dragged him forcefully toward a secluded corner.

When Larry tried to summon his Nen to resist, another statement reached his ears.

"If you resist, I'll kill you."

The voice was calm and emotionless, devoid of any killing intent—yet it made Larry abandon any thoughts of defiance instantly.

Bang!

After being dragged into the corner, Larry was slammed against the wall with such force that the back of his head made a harsh impact with the cold concrete, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

Before he could recover, a voice, distant yet near, echoed in his ears.

"I feel like your 50-million bounty is too low. Can you find a way to make yourself worth more?"

Yes, I think my bounty is low too. I'm actually worth a lot more, okay?

This has to be a bounty hunter, right? Who else would ask such a question?

"I'll give you money—more than 50 million. Let me go, how about that?" Larry offered in defeat.

"How much?" The hand gripping his neck loosened slightly.

"One hundred million?" Larry tried tentatively.

"Two hundred million." The hand around his neck tightened again.

"Okay, okay, I get it! I'll pay—" Larry shouted desperately.

"Too late. Now I want four hundred million.""

The voice let out a mocking laugh, sounding indifferent and carefree.

Damn it! This blatant extortion—are you sure you're a bounty hunter? You'd make a great robber!

Larry Baya was furious inside, cursing endlessly, but outwardly, he appeared meek and compliant.

"I... I only have three hundred million," he muttered quietly, half-truthfully.

If he agreed too easily, this guy would definitely raise the price again.

"Let's see... Larry Baya, over ten billion stolen. I'm only asking for five hundred million—five hundred million to spare your life and let you enjoy the rest of your money. Isn't that a fair deal?" the voice said again.

But I only have five hundred million left! Thieves need to spend money too, you know! Buying intel and tools is expensive!

Larry was so enraged that he almost wanted to drag this nameless guy down with him. But deep inside, he understood that if he didn't pay up, he likely wouldn't make it out of the Heavens Arena alive today.

"Fine, I'll transfer it to you. I don't have more than that. This is everything I have left," Larry said dejectedly.

"Do you have any thief friends? Can you arrange a meeting? Let's have a little chat," the youthful voice asked again.

"…Although thieves sometimes gather to trade or help each other, those meetings are irregular and require at least a month's notice to set up," Larry replied, sounding utterly drained. His exhausted expression made it clear how much of a headache this was for him.

"I can't get anyone together," he sighed.

Despite his complaints, he didn't stop moving. He pulled out his card and the portable card reader he always carried, handing them over.

"The password is ****." he muttered with a resigned air of defeat.

With a soft beep, the transfer was complete.

The money on his card was now gone forever.

Larry had many fake identities, and naturally, the card wasn't registered under his real name. Otherwise, the authorities could track him down through his spending history.

It didn't matter—as long as he was alive, he could always steal more. And—

—I'll never come back to the Heavens Arena again!

"Alright, you can go now."

The hand that had been gripping his neck finally let go.

Larry was sure his neck was bruised in a perfect ring.

His gaze fell on the two figures before him.

The white-haired, blue-eyed boy with dark facial markings leaned casually against the wall, exuding an air of carelessness. Beside him stood a blond-haired young man, bowing his head slightly in a posture of deference.

Though Larry had guessed from the voice that the boy was young, he hadn't expected him to be this young.

Not even fifteen, was he?

Forget it—it had nothing to do with him anyway.

"Well then, farewell," Larry Baya said with a bright smile as he turned and bolted away.

Hopefully, they'd never meet again!

But after only two steps, the world around him spun.

How strange…

Why was he looking up at the two of them from this angle?

And what was that body lying over there? Was it… his?

Oh, so my head's fallen off.

"I never said I didn't want your fifty million bounty. I gave you the chance to run—it's your fault you didn't get away." Cyr said calmly, standing just outside the slowly spreading pool of blood. He bent down, reached out, and peeled off the disguise on Larry's severed head, revealing his true face. Then, Cyr pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of the head, and started contacting the nearest police station. While doing so, he also collected all the fake IDs from Larry's belongings.

Once the police confirmed the identity of the corpse, the bounty would be transferred to Cyr's account.

"I think I've figured out the true essence of being a bounty hunter." Cyr said thoughtfully.

Making money off bounties? No, no, no.

The real essence, of course, was claiming the criminal's assets! That was far faster than relying solely on bounty payouts.

The bounty itself didn't really matter—he was just doing his part to bring justice to the world by catching criminals.

And if the police asked about the stolen goods? "No idea," would be the answer.

Who could say where criminals spent their stolen money? What did that have to do with him, a righteous bounty hunter?

"Suddenly, catching criminals doesn't seem so boring anymore," Cyr said with a cheerful smile, his voice filled with delight.

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