Hunter X Justice

Agony X Behind X Masks

Now, I love the Dragon Ball series. It's the first anime series I watched and I can say it's one of those series whose characters I feel a close connection to as a fan. Something about it is very nostalgic to me, despite watching it at a later age than most. But I'm very glad I got to watch it because then I wouldn't have let myself delve into other series which no doubt took some inspiration from Toriyama's work.

Thank you, Toriyama Akira-sensei. 

Enjoy the chapter.

*****

Killua stepped inside his room, smothered in sweat after an hour-long morning warmup session. The sluggish feeling from the previous night's fight had long since burned away from his muscles.

Killua strolled to the desk where an idle book was laid flat on the wooden surface and settled on the chair. His mind was clear and refreshed, thanks to acquiring sleep and his light training. Killua's head hung from his shoulders, tensing his gaze at his lap as he contemplated and processed recent events.

The fight against the clay monster was still fresh in his mind. Killua remembered collapsing on the mattress immediately after returning to the hideout late at night. Never could Killua imagine the abilities the clay monster had used to pull out all the stops; it was like fighting a Nen-user who specializes in multiple types.

The clay monster could enlarge himself to magnify his strength and durability, not unlike an enhancer. His entire body was composed of that muddy substance akin to a transmuter's aura. He could reshape any part of his body into anything he probably thinks of, like a manipulator. The punch that shot out from the floor came to mind, with his limbs able to extend at long ranges - emitter abilities.

While it's not impossible for a Nen user to achieve those abilities, it would take years of training and honing one's skills and abilities under the right conditions, depending on the category the user's aura falls into. And even that, only the most skilled Nen masters could exert advancements like that under the most precise control.

Killua glared at his hands as he recalled his depleted strength from the battle. There was no way he could've been this tired after taking a few blows, and the power behind them wasn't enough to grant him mortal wounds. It had to be from contact with the attacks that sucked the life out of him. That could've been dangerous the more Killua thought back to it. Could that explain the clay monster's sudden burst in speed? And what were the limits of that power?

It was no use dwelling on the clay monster any longer; the fight was over with the monster beaten. Killua recalled witnessing the clay monster taken away by the officers when he observed the aftermath from a distance. He wondered if there were others like the clay monster in this world.

Are there any more of them? If so, then Batman must have a connection with them. Killua thought before shaking his head to repel the topic.

With the musty smell from the sewers and sweat clinging to him, Killua was in a foul mood to pursue his studies. Killua's eyes shifted to the side of the desk where a stack of wallets sat, the same ones he had pickpocketed from a few folks the other night. He figured it was time to head out to shop for new clothes.

He grabbed a wallet from the stack, opened it, and held out a bill from the pouch, closely scrutinizing the greenback. The currency for this nation didn't seem too different from Jenny, aside from some old man's face in the center and a symbol of an eagle perched on a pedestal.

Killua squinted as he traced his eyes through the English letters on the bottom. 'Twenty...doll-ars.' Killua's eyes squinted further. 'So that's what they call their currency here.' He thought.