Chapter 2: The Circus in Glam Gas Land

After arriving in the city of Glam Gas Land, the Morittonio Circus settled into their designated performance venue. Though the troupe leader had initially planned to take Hisoka to a proper hospital, seeing the boy move with surprising independence led him to opt for a simple clinic visit instead. The wounds were cleaned and bandaged, but what truly caught the troupe members' attention was their new addition's remarkable vitality.

After all, when they'd first encountered him, Hisoka had been sprawled in a pool of his own blood, seemingly at death's door. Yet here he was, just days later, moving as though the incident had barely affected him.

The circus members had little time to dwell on this mystery, however. Their next performance loomed close, demanding their full attention. Under Morittonio's watchful eye, they threw themselves into rehearsals, determined to prevent any mistakes during the upcoming show. Their repertoire boasted an impressive array of acts fire-breathing, acrobatics, animal training, and countless other spectacles that never failed to captivate their audience.

But the true star of their show, the act that had made their circus famous throughout the region, was Morittonio's signature performance: "air swimming." This mystifying feat allowed the performer to break free from gravity's hold, walking through thin air at dizzying heights. To the amazed spectators below, it appeared nothing short of miraculous.

To Oboro, who understood the truth behind the illusion, it was something else entirely. He knew their leader relied on Nen abilities, using them to create a magnetic effect that anchored him to the building's structure. More than that, Oboro knew Morittonio's deeper history not just as a serial killer whose reputation haunted the Yorbian continent, but as a failed Hunter candidate who had once competed alongside the legendary Ging Freecss.

That experience had left such deep scars that Morittonio had abandoned his Hunter ambitions, channeling his abilities instead into founding this traveling circus.

"Yo!"

The day before their first performance, Oboro was washing clothes in their shared room when a familiar voice cut through his concentration. Without turning, he knew it was Hisoka the boy's presence had become impossible to ignore.

Hisoka leaned against the doorframe with casual grace, watching Oboro with that perpetual smile. "Everyone in the troupe has at least one special talent. What's yours? Doing Laundry?"

Oboro maintained his silence, though his hands stilled momentarily in their work. He'd noticed Hisoka spending countless hours observing the other performers, absorbing their techniques with frightening speed. His learning ability bordered on the supernatural.

"Well... I've seen enough," Hisoka shrugged, the casual statement carrying a weight that made Oboro's heart skip a beat. The implication was clear, what had taken the other performers years to master, Hisoka had already internalized in mere days.

"I'm busy," Oboro replied flatly. "If you have nothing else to do, please leave."

His position in the circus remained precarious, as a recent addition himself, he could only handle support tasks while learning the basics of performance. Diligence in these mundane duties was his way of carving out a place for himself, making himself useful enough that the others' distrust might eventually fade.

Suddenly, an arm draped across his shoulders from behind, and Hisoka's voice came uncomfortably close to his ear. "You snuck out last night... didn't you?"

Oboro's pupils contracted sharply. He had indeed been training in secret, following the system's rigorous martial arts regimen. Time was of the essence, he knew what fate awaited the circus, knew that Morittonio would die by Hisoka's hand, and the troupe would scatter. He needed to be ready to survive on his own when that day came.

"Living with you really isn't pleasant," Oboro muttered, his disgust evident. The leader's decision to room them together was proving to be a constant source of tension.

"Hehehe..." Hisoka's laugh held a note of genuine amusement. "I've never seen training methods quite like yours. They're... interesting. Why don't you teach me?"

"How about this?" Oboro held up one finger. "Tell me your true background, and I'll consider it."

His training regime was specifically designed to strengthen individual body parts with unprecedented efficiency, though the toll it took was severe. Even now, his muscles screamed in protest, though he'd learned to mask the pain.

"Oh? Interested in my past? I thought you hated me..." Hisoka deflected with practiced ease. "No matter... I've already memorized what I needed to see."

When the day of the performance arrived, the venue was packed to capacity, several thousand eager spectators filling every available seat. The Morittonio Circus took to the stage amid thunderous applause, delivering one spectacular act after another. The true climax came during Morittonio's performance, as he hung upside down from the venue's ceiling, wielding his cane with casual grace as he walked across the dome.

The crowd erupted in whistles and cheers, showering the stage with gifts while Oboro and other troupe members collected the scattered banknotes and coins. They bowed deeply to their audience before making their exit.

As they cleared the stage, Oboro caught sight of Hisoka perched cross-legged on one of the venue's support beams, watching Morittonio's suspended form with intense interest. The sight made Oboro's eyelids twitch involuntarily.

"Could he have already sensed Nen?" Oboro wondered uneasily. Since learning the leader's true identity, he'd been watching Morittonio closely, trying to detect any trace of the mysterious power. But despite his efforts, he couldn't sense the flow of aura, that required a natural talent that few possessed.

And Hisoka's talent, as Oboro was beginning to realize, was nothing short of demonic.

The show ended to thunderous acclaim, the local audience's enthusiasm confirming their success. During the celebratory dinner that followed, Morittonio turned his attention to Oboro.

"How is your horse riding progressing?" the leader asked, his eyes keen.

"I can manage the basic performances," Oboro replied carefully.

Morittonio nodded in satisfaction. "Then prepare yourself, you'll be performing tomorrow."

"Okay," Oboro responded, keeping his expression neutral despite the sudden flutter of nervousness in his stomach.

Having joined the circus so recently, he'd only had time to master the simplest acts. Equestrianism, while still demanding, was considered one of the easier skills to acquire. It involved various fancy movements and three-dimensional jumps on horseback, but compared to some of the more complex acts, it was relatively straightforward to learn.

Living two lives had given Oboro certain advantages, while his learning ability couldn't match Hisoka's supernatural talent, it was still remarkably good. More importantly, he possessed a work ethic that hadn't gone unnoticed by their leader.

"Isn't it too soon?" Abaki spoke up, her orange ponytail swaying as she turned toward them. Among the troupe members, only three were close in age, Oboro, Hisoka, and Abaki herself.

"This day was always coming," Morittonio replied with a warm smile. "Better to start early and build experience. Don't fear failure you're all still young."

As the conversation continued, Hisoka sat quietly manipulating his knife and fork with nimble fingers, his thoughts hidden behind that eternal smile.

Time flowed both slowly and swiftly. Oboro's first performance passed without incident neither spectacular nor disappointing, it served its purpose as a transitional act between the main performances. Without the pressure of being an opening or closing act, he was able to focus solely on executing his routine properly.

Once he began performing regularly, Hisoka took over his previous support duties, handling the laundry and prop organization with the same unnerving efficiency he showed in everything else. As the days turned into weeks, the Morittonio Circus began building a reputation in Glam Gas Land. Their shows drew larger crowds, their business flourished, and their future seemed bright.

But Oboro knew better. Each night, after their shared room fell quiet, he would slip away to train. He no longer bothered hiding his departures from Hisoka when the time came, he simply rose and left. His rest periods shrank as he pushed himself harder, desperate to make every moment count.

One night, in a remote corner of Glam Gas Land's public park, Oboro worked through his grueling routine. Sandbags weighted his limbs as he crawled across the ground, his clothes long since soaked through with sweat. After completing more than ten repetitions, he moved on to climbing trees with his bare hands, then began striking the trunks according to the system's precise instructions.

He followed each exercise exactly as prescribed, never deviating from the system's requirements. By the time the horizon began showing the first hints of dawn, his chest heaved like a bellows as he finally allowed himself to rest.

"The strength and flexibility of my body..." he examined his calloused palms with satisfaction, "judging from the numbers, they've been honed almost to perfection. It's time to begin practicing traditional Chinese martial arts."

The transformation his body had undergone in just over a month was remarkable. His frame had filled out with clearly defined muscle, making him appear more adult than adolescent. Even to casual observers, the power contained within his form was evident.

Such rapid physical development would have seemed impossible in his previous world, but Oboro suspected this reality's different rules played a role in his progress. This wasn't Earth, everything from the environment to the power systems operated differently here. Extraordinary individuals were commonplace.

Still, his current physical condition, while impressive for his age, remained far from the ultimate level he could achieve. But considering the short timeframe, he felt satisfied with his progress.

"It seems this body has some talent and potential, at least physically," he mused. "Compared to traditional training methods, the system's approach is truly demonic the pain is extreme, but the results are undeniable."

Steam rose from his muscular frame in the cool night air as he prepared to head back. But before he could take a step, a familiar figure caught his eye Hisoka sat on a nearby park bench, legs crossed casually.

"Going home?" the red-haired boy asked, as though his presence there was perfectly natural.

"When did you arrive?" Oboro's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I've been here quite a while," Hisoka stretched lazily. "You were just so focused on your training that you didn't notice me. I couldn't sleep either... it's boring being alone..."

Oboro remained silent, his jaw tightening. Being watched was never pleasant, but being observed by Hisoka made him particularly uneasy.

"Say..." Hisoka tilted his head, resting one hand against his cheek as his eyes opened slightly. His tone shifted, becoming more intimate. "You seem to be carrying something... some kind of burden. You're different from the others. As a friend, might I have the honor of hearing your secret? Perhaps... I could help..."

The word 'secret' made Oboro's eyes turn cold. He grinned mirthlessly, meeting Hisoka's gaze directly. "Do you really want to help me?"

After their time together, Oboro had developed a sense for Hisoka's nature. This wasn't about helping, the boy was hunting for entertainment, searching for something to amuse him.

"Of course," Hisoka replied cheerfully.

"Alright... then could you just die?" Oboro enunciated each word clearly.

"Are you angry?" Hisoka's eyebrows rose in apparent surprise.

Finding no one else around, Oboro began walking away with long strides.

"Don't be so cold," Hisoka called after him. "Don't worry, I'll keep your secret."

"I hope you understand, you and I are just colleagues, not friends."

"Yes Yes... I understand," Hisoka's response was dismissive as he fell into step beside Oboro, matching his pace with irritating ease.

...

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