Tengong Airport.
Kevin Carpenberg stepped off the airship with just a small bag in hand.
He hailed a cab and headed to the hotel he'd booked in advance.
Even back on the airship, Kevin had noticed someone watching him.
But after disembarking, that presence vanished—likely someone else had taken over the surveillance.
The one who had been monitoring him didn't reveal many flaws. Still, every time Kevin entered the public areas of the ship, he'd feel that gaze—subtle, but intentional.
Kevin had tried observing the person in return but found no indication they were a Nen user. Unless, of course, they were skilled enough to disguise their aura completely.
Skilled enough to even fool him.
The cab arrived at the hotel.
Kevin had to admit, this city was more vibrant and bustling than anywhere he'd visited before.
Skyscrapers stretched skyward, closely packed and endless. Unlike the dramatic architecture of Heaven's Arena, this city had no iconic landmarks—but it had everything else, giving Kevin a nostalgic sense of familiarity.
Even the city around Heaven's Arena didn't have so many tall buildings. That area still leaned toward regional, even ethnic, aesthetics.
But walking into Yuke Shin was like stepping into a modern international metropolis.
From what he'd read online, the city was indeed a global hub, nestled at the continent's edge and bordering a major port.
Inside his hotel room, Kevin flipped through the travel guides and city maps he'd picked up at the airport.
"A huge market for minerals and biological medical materials? Yeah, I've got to check that out," he said, eyes lighting up as he spotted the listings on the map.
After all, exploring these kinds of places was one of the main reasons he'd come here.
Meanwhile…
"Take Miss to the amusement park today. And make sure you watch her—don't let her run off," Wright ordered as he got into the car with two of his men.
The car headed for the meetup spot, where Wright left his ride and got into his boss's vehicle.
The convoy then made its way to East Third Road. Their destination: a luxury hotel.
On the way, Wright's superior handed him a slim document.
He opened it to find details about their target: Kevin Carpenberg.
"This kid? He's our target today? A top student at the medical academy?" Wright asked, surprised.
The man next to him nodded.
"So what's the plan? We kidnapping him? Trying to recruit him into the family?" Wright asked again.
The mafia boss gave him a long look, took the cigar from his mouth, and shook his head.
"Neither. We're just here to deliver a message from the higher-ups. Put a little pressure on him—just make sure the message gets across."
Wright furrowed his brow. "That's it? Just intimidation?"
He needed clarity on the goal and his boundaries. That's how you execute a job cleanly—and earn promotions.
"You could call it intimidation," the boss said. "But no fighting. Keep your weapons out to make a statement, sure—but no actual shooting. Just scare him."
"And make sure your boys get that. If he gets hurt, we'll all be in deep trouble."
This was a first for Wright, but he understood the general objective.
Before long, the cars rolled into the underground parking garage of the hotel.
Wright passed along the orders and followed his boss up the elevator.
According to the information they'd been given, the group headed directly to a specific room on one of the upper floors.
A crowd of men in black suits gathered outside the door, intimidating enough to send passing guests scurrying away or retreating into their rooms.
Some even turned and ran downstairs to cancel their bookings altogether.
Inside the room, Kevin was flipping through his travel book when the noise outside caught his attention. He frowned.
Then came the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened.
Kevin's Nen flared to life, his expression growing cold as he turned to face the intruders—mobsters in suits, eyes hard, posture aggressive.
They entered and split into two rows, leaving a path down the middle.
A man in sunglasses, his face scarred and hair jet-black, strutted down the center. Behind him came a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and a bulky bodyguard who looked like a literal brick wall.
The scarred man flopped onto the couch across from Kevin and stared at him like he was trying to win the encounter just by locking eyes.
"Let me introduce myself. I'm Bruto Ritz, third son of the Ritz family," he declared.
Kevin glanced around the room and corridor.
No Nen users. Just regular people.
"This hotel's security is abysmal. No respect for guests' privacy," he said coolly, ignoring the man entirely.
The big bodyguard slammed a hand down on the coffee table. "Hey! Are you deaf or what?!"
Bruto stayed calm.
The middle-aged man beside him offered a gentle smile. "Sir, I'm sure none of us want any misunderstandings. Why don't you sit down and have a nice chat with our boss?"
The tone was polite, but the arrogance behind it was unmistakable.
Kevin narrowed his eyes.
"While I am curious why you people tracked me down, I find this kind of conversation extremely unpleasant."
He raised two fingers.
"So I'll give you two options."
"First: You all apologize, line up, and walk out of this room like decent people. Then, I'll consider sitting down and talking with you about whatever you're here for."
"What did you just—?!" one of the mobsters began, furious.
Kevin ignored him and continued.
"Second: I beat the crap out of you until you're ready to behave. Then maybe I'll feel like hearing what you have to say."
"You arrogant little—! Get hi—"
"Three," Kevin said flatly, not bothering to count from one.
WHAM!
Kevin moved in a flash, grabbing the loudmouthed bodyguard's head and smashing it into the table.
The stone top shattered instantly, the thug's head bursting open with blood as he slumped into unconsciousness.
The sound of drawn weapons echoed in the room.
But before anyone could react, Kevin was gone.
"AAAH!"
A scream rang out as a mobster was punched clear across the room, crashing into his comrades and knocking over half the group.
Kevin now radiated killing intent like a predator among prey. The hardened enforcers of the Ritz family felt their hearts seize with terror.
Then came the screams—one after another.
In mere moments, every weapon was confiscated. Every man dropped with a single blow.
The furniture, aside from the coffee table, was somehow barely touched.
"I'm—" the "gentle" middle-aged man tried to speak—only to take a punch to the gut that sent him flying into the pile of unconscious bodies.
"I'm—!"
Bruto finally tried to say something.
But Kevin grabbed him by the face and squeezed.
His skull ached from the pressure, and he couldn't get a sound out.
Kevin flung him across the room. He crashed into the TV with a crunch of glass and sparks. Screws, screen shards, and plastic stabbed into him, drawing blood and screams.
Kevin hauled him out of the wreckage and tossed him into the heap of thugs.
"See? You just had to pick option two. Look at the mess you've made of a perfectly nice hotel room."
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