Spreading

The next morning, the second-floor base.

Morning light streamed through the portholes, spilling onto the metal floor and stretching out slender shadows.

Gon was doing push-ups in the corner.

One, then another.

His speed wasn't fast, but his rhythm was astonishingly steady.

A hundred, two hundred, three hundred.

His face wasn't flushed, and he wasn't even out of breath. Even his breathing rate had barely changed.

After eating those level-three ingredients yesterday, he felt as if a new strength had appeared inside his body.

He couldn't explain it, but he was definitely more energetic than before.

After resting for a while, he began sparring with Killua in the open space nearby.

Fists whistled through the air as the two figures crossed paths.

Gon's punches grew heavier and heavier. The wind from them swept across the floor, kicking up fine dust.

Killua dodged to the side, his fingertips brushing Gon's wrist.

The two went back and forth, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Kurapika sat at the table, head lowered as he studied the ancient scroll brought back from the vault.

The scroll was made of something unusual. It didn't resemble ordinary animal hide, and it carried a faint warmth to the touch.

The writing on it was in the ancient language of the Kurta Clan, and most of it had already grown blurred.

He could only make out a few words here and there.

Breaker.

Food Luck.

Dark Soil.

The rest would require time to decipher slowly.

In the temporary medical room next door, Leorio stared at the microscope, his brows knotted tightly.

He was examining the skin samples from the private soldiers brought back yesterday.

The section lay on a glass slide, and the stained cellular structure was clearly visible.

Leorio's eyes widened further and further.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

The