Understanding His True Heart, Step by Step to the Top of the World

Inside the Xilirike Auction House.

The beautiful auctioneer stood beneath the spotlight, pointing at a small jade carving from an ancient civilization on display as she introduced its history, craftsmanship, and record of inheritance in a pleasant, professionally trained voice.

The more than five hundred seats below were nearly full, every face representing considerable wealth or power.

"...In summary, this 'Moon Goddess Maid Statue' is not only a masterpiece of art, but also a witness to history. The starting bid is—fifty million Jenny!"

The auction hammer fell with a crisp crack.

"Bidding begins!"

Before her words had even faded, someone in the audience raised a hand.

Then came a second person, a third... Arms rose like a forest, gestures signaling higher bids appearing one after another.

The auctioneer's gaze swept rapidly across the room as she clearly called out the rapidly climbing prices.

"Fifty-five million! Sixty million! Sixty-three million! Good, that lady bids sixty-eight million! Seventy million! Eighty—"

"I bid ten billion."

The voice was not loud.

Yet like a stone dropped into a still lake, it instantly drowned out every other sound.

It was neither a shout nor a roar, merely a calm statement.

But it carried a mountain-like pressure that reached everyone's ears with perfect clarity.

The entire venue fell abruptly silent.

Everyone—the auctioneer, bidders, security guards, staff—turned in unison toward the source of the voice.

At the entrance stood a massive figure.

His suit looked a little tight on him, the fabric outlining the rock-like muscles beneath it.

With both hands in his trouser pockets, he tipped his head back slightly and looked down on the entire auction hall, a nearly arrogant smile on his face.

Mores.

He slowly opened his right hand, then suddenly clenched it.

"Everything here—"

His voice echoed through the deathly silent hall.

"—I'm buying it all by myself."

After a brief dead silence, an old man in the VIP seats wearing gold-rimmed glasses, his hair meticulously combed, suddenly rose to his feet. His face had flushed red with rage.

"Who do you think you are?!"

His voice was shrill, carrying the arrogance of someone long accustomed to high status.

Mores looked at him, his grin widening to reveal stark white teeth.

"Because I—"

He paused and raised his right index finger.

"—can kill every single one of you here."

The instant he finished speaking, a peanut-sized white Nen bullet condensed at his fingertip.

There was no charge-up, no warning. With a light flick—

The Nen bullet tore through the air with a faint shriek.

Before the old man could even react, it had struck him between the brows.

"Bang!"

It was not a gunshot, but a duller, more terrifying sound.

The old man's head burst like a watermelon.

Red, white, fragments of bone—splattered across the faces and bodies of those around him, across their expensive gowns and suits.

Time seemed to freeze.

One second. Two seconds.

Then the screams erupted!

Not one person's scream, but the terrified, collapsing screams of dozens, over a hundred people at once!

The crowd scattered like an exploded ant nest. Some tried to run for the exit, some went limp in their seats, and some leaned over the railing to vomit.

But Mores merely stood where he was, his smile unchanged.

He raised a hand and made a shushing gesture.

Strangely, the hall truly fell quiet—not willingly, but from the rigidity of terror pushed to its limit.

Everyone stared at him, not daring to move or make a sound. They even held their breath.

"That demonstration was clear enough."

Mores's voice remained calm, but in the silence, it sounded especially piercing.

"You'd better cooperate with me."

His gaze swept over the room like a butcher inspecting livestock waiting for slaughter.

"Otherwise—every last one of you dies."

In a shadowed corner by the wall of the auction hall.

Two people sat quietly, their hearts utterly unmoved by the bloody scene just now.

Nobunaga tilted his head, the blade of grass between his lips twitching.

"Didn't expect that... Besides us, someone else has their eye on this auction."

He looked at Franklin beside him, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

"And... he's even more arrogant than we are."

Franklin was expressionless, his huge body sitting there like a stone statue.

He glanced at Mores by the entrance and gave a disdainful snort through his nose.

"Arrogant people usually die quickly."

"So?"

Nobunaga asked.

"So..."

Franklin tore the tie from around his neck, casually tossed it to the floor, and slowly rose to his feet.

His movements were slow, but every one of them carried tremendous weight.

His suit jacket stretched taut, its buttons seeming ready to burst off at any moment.

The surrounding audience members fearfully made room for him—this giant gave off an aura no weaker than that murderer at the entrance.

On the rooftop of a five-story building across the street from the Xilirike Auction House.

Leo's pupils suddenly constricted.

He noticed several figures in the distant street, walking unhurriedly toward the auction house entrance.

Six people.

At the front was a black-haired man wearing a fur-collared coat. The inverted cross tattoo on his forehead was clearly visible even in the night.

His steps were as relaxed as though he were out for a stroll, yet each carried an indescribable rhythm.

Chrollo Lucilfer.

To his left was a woman with purplish-red hair and an indifferent expression—Machi.

To his right was a sharp-looking short-haired woman, Pakunoda.

A little behind them was Bonolenov, his entire body wrapped in bandages.

There was also Omokage, dressed in black robes.

At the very back was a man in a white suit with a feminine air about him, someone Leo had never seen before.

The Phantom Troupe.

Leo's heart tightened sharply.

He had not expected it. He truly had not expected it.

An A-rank wanted criminal like Mores was already troublesome enough, but now even the Phantom Troupe had arrived—and their leader was personally leading the team, along with six members.

This was no longer something he could handle.

Just as Leo's mind rapidly weighed his options—

Chrollo suddenly stopped in the distance.

He turned and looked in Leo's direction.

Separated by more than a hundred meters, by the night and the reflections on the glass—those eyes looked directly at him.

Leo instantly activated Zetsu, completely concealing his aura as he retreated deeper into the shadows.

One second. Two seconds.

In the distance, Machi tilted her head toward Chrollo.

"Boss, is something wrong?"

Chrollo looked toward the rooftop and fell silent for two seconds before slowly turning back.

"Was it an illusion?"

His voice was very soft.

"Let's go. We're heading inside."

The five continued toward the auction house entrance.

Only after their figures disappeared through the doors did Leo slowly let out a breath.

"I didn't expect..."

He muttered under his breath, his voice slightly dry.

"Even they came."

Sophia noticed something wrong with his tone and stepped closer.

"Master, what is it?"

Leo stared at the auction house and spoke one word at a time.

"The Phantom Troupe is here too."

Sophia's face instantly went pale.

During the past few months of following Leo to hunt wanted criminals, she had learned that they were one of the most dangerous criminal groups.

Every member was formidable. They acted without any bottom line, killed as easily as breathing, and had never been successfully captured by the Hunter Association.

"Then we..."

Her voice trembled slightly.

"Are we still going to capture Mores?"

Leo did not answer immediately.

He leaned against the railing and closed his eyes, his mind racing.

Give up. Give up immediately. With the entire Phantom Troupe deployed, this isn't a situation I can interfere in.

Take Sophia and retreat—this is the right choice.

But another emotion surged within him.

It was neither fear nor excitement, but something... more complicated.

All this time, Leo had taken the safest route.

From cautiously hunting in secret realms, to steadily improving at Heaven's Arena, to tracking down wanted criminals whose strength was within his control.

He calculated the risks at every step and never allowed himself to fall into true desperation.

He had thought he was doing well.

But now, watching the Phantom Troupe enter the auction house, watching this conflict about to erupt—one far beyond anything he had experienced before—his heart was pounding wildly.

Not from fear.

It was... longing.

He remembered the Moonlight Tundra, and what Biscuit had told him after his training ended.

At the time, he had been smug, believing that he had already improved quickly enough.

But Biscuit had shaken her head, disappointment in her eyes.

"Leo, your talent is indeed exceptional. But do you know what you lack?"

"What?"

"A heart that dares to struggle and face danger head-on."

Biscuit sat cross-legged atop the glowing moss, moonlight shining upon her golden twin ponytails.

"You're too cautious. You calculate gains and losses with every step, and you always leave yourself room in every battle. That may be an advantage for ordinary people, but for an Enhancer... it's a fatal weakness."

She looked at Leo, her gaze serious.

"What is the essence of an Enhancer? Purity. Directness. Gathering all your strength into one point and unleashing it."

"Your excessive caution keeps you from bringing an Enhancer's traits to their fullest potential."

"That's why your strength has hit a bottleneck—not one of the body, but a bottleneck of the 'heart.'"

Back then, Leo had not taken it seriously.

What was wrong with being cautious? Only by staying alive could he grow stronger.

But now...

Now, he understood.

Leo opened his eyes and looked down at his right hand.

His palm opened, then clenched, his knuckles whitening slightly from the force.

Then he smiled.

It was not a happy smile, nor a mocking one, but a relieved smile carrying a certain resolve.

"All this time..."

He murmured, so quietly that only he could hear it.

"I've only been playing low-level matches."

Sophia looked at him in confusion.

"Master?"

Leo took a deep breath, lifted his head, and looked at the clear full moon in the night sky.

Moonlight fell across his face, revealing the flames gradually igniting in his eyes.

Biscuit was right.

He had always believed he was on the right path.

But true strength could not be achieved by hiding in a safe zone and grinding weak monsters.

To grow stronger, he had to face stronger opponents.

To reach the summit, he had to cross perilous peaks.

Leo turned and looked at the tightly shut doors of the Xilirike Auction House.

The lights within shone through the stained-glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patches of color across the ground.

And beyond those doors were the Phantom Troupe, A-rank wanted criminals, and every faction that sought either treasure or survival.

Chaos, slaughter, danger—but also opportunity.

"It's time..."

Leo's voice was soft, but every word was as clear as a blade cutting across ice.

"...to play in the big leagues."

He turned to Sophia, his expression more serious than ever before.

"Sophia, what comes next isn't something you can take part in. No matter what happens, no matter what you see or hear—don't come out. Find somewhere to hide, and wait for me to come back."

Sophia's eyes widened.

"But... Master! It's too dangerous! The Phantom Troupe, they—"

"I know."

Leo cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"That's exactly why I'm going."

He paused, looking at the worry nearly overflowing from Sophia's eyes. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly in reassurance.

"Don't worry. Your master..."

He patted his chest.

"...won't die here so easily."

Leo turned around, facing the auction house with his back to Sophia.

The night wind lifted the hem of his clothes, while moonlight stretched his shadow long across the rooftop.

Then he spoke those words.

His voice was not loud, yet it sounded like an oath, like a declaration, like the first long roar of a beast finally breaking free of its shackles—

"I! Will climb to this world's—"

He paused for a moment, as though savoring the weight of every word.

"—very, top, peak!!!"

As his words fell, the aura around him abruptly changed.

No longer restrained, no longer suppressed.

Nen aura poured out from within him—not in an explosion, but like an unsealed volcano, flowing forth naturally and irresistibly.

His aura was clearly visible in the night. Its glow was not dazzling, yet it carried a heavy, tangible presence.

That was confidence. It was determination.

It was the resolve of someone who had finally recognized his path and decided to walk it without hesitation.

Sophia looked at Leo's back, opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she merely nodded firmly.

"I understand, Master."

Her voice was steady. Though worry still lingered in her eyes, there was even more trust.

"I won't make you worry. You... just do what you have to do."

Leo looked back and gave Sophia a smile.

It was faint, but genuine.