[139]: Battera's Love

"…Twenty billion?"

Killua and Gon exchanged glances. Gon hesitantly raised his hand, forming a scissors gesture.

This was something they had picked up after a month of labor—

Always start with a high price. Be ready for negotiations.

But—

"Which account should I transfer it to?"

Battera didn't even try to negotiate. He went straight to the point.

Killua froze.

Then quickly turned around, hiding his silent scream.

—They set the price too low!!!

They should have gone even higher!

"Pfft—"

Cyr chuckled.

Tzesguerra and Battra turned to look at him.

And so did a very annoyed Killua.

"Just thought of something funny. Don't mind me."

Cyr waved it off casually.

The price had already been named.

It wouldn't be good to raise it again.

Killua and Gon still hadn't learned the shamelessness and backtracking skills of adulthood.

Then again, as protagonists of a shounen manga, they probably never would.

And so, the deal was sealed—

Even though Killua and Gon felt like they had undersold at first, they quickly got over it.

Because—

It was twenty billion.

Battera, now holding the bead, was also pleased.

But at the same time, he seemed… restless.

Like he was eager to leave for somewhere else.

Just as his impatience was about to peak—

Cyr suddenly spoke, his tone seemingly casual:

"So… you've been buying up all those game consoles and gathering players… because you want to clear the game for Angel's Breath?"

The room fell silent.

Battera froze mid-motion, his expression stiff.

Even Tsezguerra—who had been standing stoically as a bodyguard, in contrast to the carefree and already-seated Cyr—shot him a suspicious look.

—How did he know about Aangel's Breath?

Unless—

"…Are you a player?" Tsezguerra voice was low.

"And what does that have to do with me knowing about it?"

Cyr, reclining lazily on a single-seat sofa, looked even more at ease than Battera—his supposed employer.

He looked like he was the real boss here.

"Maybe someone I know is a player."

"… …"

Tsezguerra had no words.

Because—

That actually made sense.

"Hey, don't look at me like that."

Cyr pouted at their wary expressions.

"I'm not some villain or anything…"

He waved a hand dismissively while reaching into his curse's mouth—

And pulled out a white lab coat and a pair of frameless glasses.

Then he put them on.

Killua and Gon immediately turned away, whispering.

"…It's starting."

"Yeah. Here we go again."

This scene was way too familiar.

Every night for the past month, they had seen this happen.

Whenever he dressed like this—

Cyr would turn into a complete con artist and demand outrageous medical fees from injured mercenaries.

But Battera was probably the one person who wouldn't mind the price.

"I am, in fact, a rather famous and highly skilled doctor."

Cyr adjusted his coat and smiled at Battera.

Unlike before, he no longer looked like a child.

His words carried a certain weight.

"…?"

Battera and Tsezguerra both stared at him in confusion.

—Aren't you a bounty hunter?

—Why are you suddenly a doctor?

—How many jobs do you have?!

"…Please don't joke about this."

Battera sighed deeply.

For him—

This was never something to be taken lightly.

"…Do I seem like the type who jokes a lot?"

Cyr tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.

He never exaggerated.

If he said he could do something—

Then he could.

"… …"

Battra studied the white-haired boy in front of him.

To be honest, he didn't look like the type who would joke around or have an approachable, friendly personality.

The strange black tattoos on his body gave him a rebellious and almost sinister air. But… even if one tried to ignore the tattoos, without them, he actually looked even less human.

Like someone completely devoid of warmth.

So… was he actually telling the truth?

But then again, this wasn't the first time someone had appeared before him claiming they could help. He had spent fortune after fortune, paid bill after bill—only to be disappointed again and again.

It had made it hard for him to trust anyone anymore.

"A normal doctor wouldn't be able to help."

Battera's gaze darkened, filled with grief.

Mysterious, unexplained sleep. No visible injuries.

Even the most advanced medical tests couldn't pinpoint the cause.

Because of this, he had poured insane amounts of money into medical research every year—funding equipment development, sponsoring medical students—yet he had received nothing in return.

"…Do I look like a normal doctor to you?"

Cyr pointed at himself with an utterly serious expression.

What kind of doctor was this young?

And had this much hair?

"Wait… is it some kind of… special ability?"

Hope flickered back into Battera's eyes.

He looked at Cyr with burning anticipation, waiting for him to confirm it.

The wait felt like a trial, where the final verdict would decide his life or death.

"…Something like that."

Cyr drawled.

"But it'd be best if I could take a look at the patient first."

Healing physical injuries with Reverse Cursed Technique? No problem.

But if it was something beyond the physical—the soul or something else—that might be a bit trickier.

Could Reverse Cursed Technique even heal souls?

No idea. Never tested it before.

Did it ever come up in the original Jujutsu Kaisen?

…Well, he died before the manga finished, so who knows? Maybe anything was possible.

"…Come with me."

Battera hesitated for a long moment before finally making a decision.

But—

He only allowed Cyr to follow him.

No one else.

The two walked through the grand halls until they reached a private room.

The atmosphere inside was warm and gentle—a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion.

In the center of the room was a bed.

And lying there was a woman.

A young woman.

She was fast asleep, her breathing steady but weak.

Her life was being sustained entirely by medical equipment.

—Oh? An age-gap romance?

Cyr glanced at the young woman on the bed.

Then at Battera, who was gazing at her with deep, unwavering affection.

And immediately understood.

Ah. So that's how it is.

An old-young relationship.

Well, he had seen plenty of those.

At least Battera looked decent compared to most of the older men in these kinds of relationships.

A refined, elegant gentleman.

Not hard on the eyes.

And besides—

This is anime logic.

In a world where people date outside their own species, a mere age gap wasn't even worth mentioning.

Mm. Respect, understanding, and best wishes.

"…No injuries."

Cyr pulled back from his thoughts, activating his Six Eyes to observe the woman's body.

No external wounds. No internal injuries.

She looked like she was just peacefully sleeping.

"She fell into a deep sleep one day, years ago… and never woke up."

Battera sat beside the bed, holding the woman's frail, pale hand. His voice was low and heavy.

No matter how many tests were run—

No matter how many doctors he consulted—

No one could figure out why.

At first, he had panicked.

Desperately searching for any possible cure.

For a while, he had lost hope completely.

Until he heard about Greed Island—and the existence of Angel's Breath.

It was the only thing keeping him going.

If he lost even this last shred of hope…

"…This looks troublesome."

Cyr narrowed his eyes at the woman, deep in thought.

Her body was surrounded by something—

Nen.

Someone's Nen was wrapped around her like an invisible shroud, keeping her in this state.

It was like she had been caught in the ability of some unknown Nen user.

"…As expected, even you can't do anything."

Battera wasn't surprised.

His tone was calm, as if he had long since grown used to disappointment.

"…What's with the Nen around her?"

Cyr asked.

"That…"

Battera lowered his gaze.

"I asked someone to put it there. I wanted her to have… a beautiful dream."

Even if she would never wake up again—

At the very least, he wanted her to sleep peacefully in a world of happiness.

°°°

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