Necessary Losses × A Warning

André's ability — Solitary Cell for the Convicted.

Even after traveling with André for some time now, Joey still couldn't figure out the exact conditions required to activate his ability, or what logic drove its creation.

No matter how he analyzed André's behavior, or the specific circumstances under which he summoned the "cell," the purpose behind it remained elusive.

Could it really be just a glorified teleportation room?

Joey had many doubts — but unless André brought it up himself, he wasn't going to ask.

Just like André never once asked about Joey's abilities.

The infiltration itself went relatively smoothly.

No Chimera Ants.

No border patrols.

No human contacts, either.

They passed through a rural village along the way — only to find clumsy attempts at hiding signs of combat.

Blood spattered across walls.

Faint drag marks in the dirt.

Half-wiped stains under carpets.

And just outside the village…

A massive mass grave, filled with twisted limbs and shattered bones.

"The Selection has already begun," André muttered grimly.

"East Gorteau's population is around five million.

The ants have ten days to comb through them all.

Starting with isolated villages is… efficient."

Joey nodded.

"In this country, once you leave your village, you're cut off from the outside world.

No phones.

The only form of communication is snail mail.

By the time anyone sends or receives word, the Selection might already be over."

Each village had a landline, yes.

But the state-mandated rally meant citizens had left their homes en masse to reach the capital, Peijing.

And with them gone, those phones meant nothing.

Death, disappearance —

no one was going to notice in time.

"We've got nine days left," Joey said, glancing at the sky.

"That's around 450,000 people dead per day…"

The number made his chest tighten.

To the ants, humans weren't even livestock.

Just expendable biomass.

André exhaled.

"The Chairman's decided this is… an acceptable loss."

His voice was calm.

But Joey noticed his fists had clenched tight.

"Couldn't they just nuke Peijing?" Joey asked, unable to hold it in.

"Isn't there that superweapon that circulates between the small nations?"

André paused.

"You're talking about the Miniature Rose, right?

Yeah. One would wipe out every Chimera Ant in the capital."

"So why not use it?! Diego's nothing but a puppet!" Joey pressed.

"Maybe," André said.

"But the people think he's still alive.

If another country drops the Rose on a city where their 'leader' is giving speeches…

It'd look like a war crime.

And the Miniature Rose would start blooming elsewhere."

The implications made Joey's blood run cold.

"Unless the public knows Diego is dead, and that Peijing is infested with monsters…

No one will authorize that kind of strike.

And V5's orders are clear: Nen must never be revealed to the public."

Joey felt the words choke in his throat.

"Exposing Nen poses a greater risk to humanity than the death of five million East Gorteau civilians," André continued, eyes hard.

"That's what V5's cold math has determined.

So this falls to the Hunter Association.

If we fail… the entire Barousa Archipelago will be purged.

Erased from the map."

"They'd do that?" Joey asked, barely believing.

"They could do it tomorrow," André said plainly.

"And no one would stop them."

Joey licked his dry lips.

"So this mission… it's do-or-die."

"You knew that before you stepped into Gorteau," André replied.

"Either die here, or walk out with a badge of honor."

Joey laughed bitterly.

"Is there really honor in surviving a genocide?"

André tilted his head.

"Not from V5, no.

But the Association might recognize your contribution.

If you pass the Hunter Exam, they might have a surprise waiting for you.

And hey — every day we cut this mission short?

Tens of thousands of lives saved.

That's a hell of a thing to put on a resume."

Joey sighed, glancing back at the pit of bones.

No matter how André spun it, none of it sat right.

Still… he couldn't argue with the logic.

"Let's go."

André noticed something —

Kite had once mentioned that Joey was from East Gorteau.

The sea of corpses probably hit closer to home than Joey let on.

But this was war.

And war was never fair.

As André stepped forward, his pocket began to vibrate.

He checked his phone.

Knuckle's number.

He answered instantly.

"Cheetu's headed your way. He's carrying Pokkle. Be careful. That bastard's fast."

Knuckle's voice carried a rare sharpness, tinged with frustration.

"Cheetu…"

The name triggered instant recognition in Joey's mind.

A speedster.

Possibly the fastest of the Squad Leaders.

But impulsive. Impatient.

Low firepower, high mobility.

"Got it," André replied, ending the call immediately.

They didn't share more — no need to risk interception.

Colt's intel had already warned them about ant eavesdropping.

Some Chimera Ants could intercept signals — even decrypt them.

Calling too long was suicidal.

"So? Do we lie low, or set up a trap?" Joey asked.

He wasn't thrilled.

Fighting a speed-type enemy was the worst case scenario for him.

He'd have to rely on trickery, not brute force.

"Stay sharp," André muttered.

"There's no way to know if he'll cross our path.

If he does, we try to neutralize him.

If not — we continue to the rendezvous point."

Knuckle had only given a general heading — no coordinates.

They'd have to play it by ear.

Joey nodded, already prepping traps and backup options.

If they ran into Cheetu, it wouldn't be by choice.