Two hours later.
The border of the Dark Continent, first line of defense.
What should have been a bustling military outpost was now deathly silent.
The roads were packed with refugee vehicles fleeing the area, while army trucks formed a long line. Soldiers carried weapons on their shoulders, their faces etched with exhaustion and fear.
The sky was an eerie gray-black, and the air was filled with a faint, fishy stench carrying a corrosive odor.
One breath was enough to make the throat sting as though it had been pricked by needles.
Genos landed on a highland, and everyone jumped down from his back.
Looking out into the distance.
Beyond Netero's Expedition Team camp lay in a valley not far away.
But now, it was impossible to tell that it had ever been a camp.
Half the tents had been burned to charcoal, while the other half had been corroded into a pockmarked mess. The ground was covered in enormous craters and black stains.
Several tattered Expedition Team flags fluttered feebly in the wind.
The groans of the wounded could be heard from far away.
"This... This is way too awful."
Leorio's eyes widened as he sucked in a cold breath.
He had seen plenty of battlefields, but never one this horrific.
There were barely any intact tents left.
"Stop standing around."
Gon had already rushed down ahead of them.
"Let's go see what's happening!"
Everyone hurried into the camp.
Medics were busy everywhere, tending to wounded soldiers lying on makeshift stretchers.
Some of the wounded had blackened skin, clearly victims of corrosive poison. Others had bones twisted at bizarre angles after being struck by tremendous force. Still others had been isolated in separate areas, their bodies wrapped in thick bandages as they occasionally let out inhuman roars—members of the