[140]: Treatment

"…I see."

Standing by the window, the white-haired boy murmured to himself, his voice low.

At the same time, he casually reached into the air—

And pulled out a weapon from the void.

[Inverted Spear of Heaven].

Before Battera could even react, Cyr gripped the spear tightly—

And drove it straight toward the woman lying on the bed.

It all happened too fast.

"Tzesguerra—!"

Battera's eyes widened in horror.

He caught the glint of cold steel in his peripheral vision and roared in panic.

BANG!

The door slammed open.

Tzesguerra and Maro burst into the room at the same time.

—But they were too late.

"Tch. Stay out of this."

Cyr held the weapon firmly, its tip already touching the woman's body.

A blinding white light erupted from the point of contact, momentarily robbing everyone of their vision.

At the same time, with a simple flick of Cyr's wrist—

A massive repelling force blasted through the room.

Tzesguerra, Maro—

All of them were sent flying backward.

Even Battera, who had been seated by the bedside, was flung away without exception.

Tzesguerra, despite instinctively shielding his employer, crashed into the wall—

And was left dangling in a man-shaped crater.

But none of them were injured.

The force was meant to eject them, not harm them.

"H-He… He—"

Battera gasped for breath, his body trembling violently.

He pointed a shaking finger toward the room.

Had he just invited a wolf into his home?

He had asked for help—not murder!

BANG.

Maro shut the door with a cold finality.

Then, standing guard outside, he leveled an icy stare at Tzesguerra in the hallway.

A massive white tiger beast, taller than a man, sat by the entrance.

Its glowing, pale-blue eyes fixated on the humans before it.

"If the Master wanted to kill you," the blond youth spoke coldly, "you'd already be dead."

His meaning was clear: Do not interfere.

Even if he didn't understand exactly what Cyr was doing—

He would still ensure no one got in his way.

CRACK.

The hallway froze over.

Ice crept up the walls, inch by inch—

Jagged spears of ice burst forth from the ground, piling layer upon layer until they filled the corridor.

The temperature plummeted.

It felt as if they had been dropped into the heart of a frozen wasteland.

Since the Master didn't want interruptions, Maro would make sure no one crossed that door.

"W-What is he trying to do…?"

Battera slumped against the wall, his strength leaving him.

His body slid down until he was sitting on the ground, his forehead resting against his knees.

"…Maybe… it's just his treatment method?"

Gon hesitantly offered.

After all, Cyr never allowed anyone else in the room when he treated people.

And his intuition wasn't sounding any alarms.

Which meant—Cyr wasn't trying to harm anyone.

"…Really?"

Battera turned to him, searching for confirmation.

"Don't worry."

Gon gave him a thumbs-up, flashing a bright, confident grin.

"He can do it."

Of course, there was no way Battera could instantly let go of his fear.

But… somehow…

His heart felt a little lighter.

"…I hope so."

Battera's gaze remained locked onto the tightly shut door.

He had prayed countless times before.

And not once had his prayers been answered.

But still—

Just like all those times before—

He closed his eyes and whispered a silent plea:

God… please. Please protect her. Please protect my—

—-—

"Seriously, what the hell is with that rich guy's reaction?"

Cyr muttered, clicking his tongue.

So dramatic.

So emotional.

What a hopeless romantic.

How was he supposed to heal her properly if that layer of Nen wasn't removed?

Did they expect him to work around it?

Of course, Tzesguerra suddenly barging in had been quite an annoyance as well.

The Nen surrounding the woman had been severed by his spear.

Cyr thought for a moment—then, in complete silence, stabbed her in the waist.

Since there were no external injuries, he didn't really want to use Reversed Cursed Technique.

So, naturally—

He had to make an injury himself.

As he watched the wound rapidly heal under the technique's effect, he nodded in satisfaction.

After all—if there wasn't a wound to begin with, how would he even tell if the healing worked?

There'd be no visible effect.

No sense of accomplishment.

"She should be fine now…"

Cyr stroked his chin, staring at the still-unconscious woman.

Her body had no issues.

Her soul had no abnormalities.

There were no traces of curses or any other malicious influence.

In short—she was in perfect health.

Even the usual problems of long-term bedridden patients—

Muscle atrophy, weakened constitution—

All of it had been fully restored.

Outside the room, the people waiting finally heard the sound of a door creaking open.

The white-haired boy stepped out from behind it.

Before he could even say a word—

Battera was already on his feet.

The man rushed toward the door.

Cyr pushed it open fully, stepping aside—

Allowing Battera to sprint inside without obstruction.

"…Did it fail?"

Battera stopped after a few steps.

His movement slowed, and he approached the bedside one step at a time.

He stood by the window, gazing down at the woman with deep sorrow.

As if mourning an answer he already knew.

—Just as the words left his lips—

The woman's fingers twitched.

"How could it fail?"

Cyr's tone was completely matter-of-fact.

Of course, it worked.

He murmured to himself in a low voice, "Damn, I forgot to ask for the payment first…"

Then, glancing at Battera, who was utterly entranced—he smirked slightly.

Well… He wouldn't dare to skip out on my medical fees, would he?

Instead of looking at Battera, Cyr turned to Tzesguerra

Battera, at that moment, was too overwhelmed.

He wasn't noticing anything else.

He wasn't hearing anything else.

His entire world was filled with only one thing—

His Sleeping Beauty, finally awakened.

——

For Cyr, this was bad.

His Six Eyes made it impossible to ignore this overly dramatic, love-filled scene.

The others could simply turn away and pretend they weren't seeing it.

But he couldn't escape the sheer intensity of this romantic atmosphere.

He was being force-fed premium-grade dog food.

Battera trembled, his emotions overflowing.

He clutched the woman's hands tightly, struggling to find words.

He had so much he wanted to say—

But his mind had gone completely blank.

Tears welled up in his eyes before he even realized it.

"…Let's step outside."

Tzesguerra took one glance at the scene and wordlessly gestured for everyone to leave.

They would give Battera and his beloved their private moment.

Perfect timing.

Cyr didn't want to stay and witness more of this public display of affection either.

So, naturally—he followed the guy's lead and left the room.

The two of them made their way to the guest lounge and took a seat.

Tzesguerra got straight to the point.

"How much do you want?"

"…I don't think I'm particularly short on money?"

The white-haired boy crossed his legs, leaned back, and raised an eyebrow.

His tone lifted at the end, making it sound almost like a question.

As if he were asking Tzesguerra himself for an answer.

How would I know?

Some people look rich on the surface but are actually dirt poor.

How was he supposed to judge whether Cyr was one of those people or not?

Tzesguerra didn't respond.

He just felt exhausted.

Maybe he really was getting old.

Communicating with kids this age was starting to become a struggle.

The room fell into silence.

A whole hour passed.

Eventually, Battrera arrived—freshly dressed and well-groomed.

It was clear that he had taken extra care in his appearance before coming here.

He looked radiant, practically glowing with energy.

"What do you want?"

His tone was firm.

"Anything I have—it's yours."

"A game console."

Cyr shrugged.

"The one you'll be bidding on at the Nampis auction—just give me one unit. We'll call off the employment contract we signed earlier. Sound fair?"

A single Greed Island console.

At auction, that would go for 200 to 300 billion Jenny.

A price that was more than appropriate for his Reversed Cursed Technique.

"Agreed."

Battra nodded without hesitation.

"Alright then…"

Cyr hadn't even finished speaking when he noticed—

Two pairs of eyes burning holes into him.

Gon and Killua were staring intently, full of anticipation.

A game console!

Even if Maro played with Cyr, there were still extra slots, right?

Surely, they could tag along?!

"Don't even think about it."

Cyr waved a hand dismissively.

"Not taking you two with me."

"Eh?! But—"

Gon slumped over in disappointment.

"If Mr. Battera doesn't need to hire anyone for the game anymore… then that means he won't need to pay anyone to clear it either, right?"

"Not necessarily."

Battera hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"There's actually… something else I want from the game."

"The Witch's Rejuvenation Potion."

"If you can clear the game and obtain it for me, I'll still provide the original payment."

A wealthy man's generosity.

"YES—!!"

Gon let out a dramatic sigh of relief.

"Thought we were gonna have to buy a console ourselves for a second!"

Sure, they had a little over 20 billion Jenny.

But trying to win a Greed Island console at auction?

That was… not going to be easy.

"No payment needed!"

Gon declared boldly.

"If you're letting us play, we should be thanking you instead!"

Killua's eyes widened in horror.

He barely had time to react—

It was too late.

The words had already escaped Gon's mouth.

"…This idiot…"

BANG.

Killua slammed his forehead into the wall with visible regret.

Why did he have to say that out loud?

°°°

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