Alright, now the probability has reached 100%—and it's the probability of death.
I probably didn't even last ten moves against him, right?
No… maybe not even five. Actually, it's more likely I couldn't handle three.
It's not that I couldn't react—it's that I really couldn't react.
Is this guy seriously a Nerve? Is he even human?
She sat there, lost in thought, questioning her very existence for a moment.
Everyone else slowly started recovering from the oppressive pressure. They glanced at each other, eyes wide, lips shut.
No one said a word about what had just happened.
The atmosphere grew tense—subtly off, as if everyone silently agreed to pretend nothing happened.
Ging and Pariston had both been affected by Ronnel's aura, but neither seemed inclined to back down.
After a brief exchange of veiled barbs, Ging suddenly cut to the chase:
"Is that the strongest one among you?"
He cast a side glance at the small puppet girl sitting nearby.
"So the No. 2 in your group isn't ranked by strength? Huh."
Pariston wasn't offended. He kept his trademark smile.
"Looks like I've been underestimated."
He turned to the rest of the group. "Alright then—starting today, I'm the No. 2 in this team. If anyone disagrees, step forward."
???
What is even happening today?
One thing after another...
Do these two really think we're just here to be bullied?
Everyone was seething internally, but nobody moved.
Not because they were scared, of course—they were just… saving their strength for later.
Beyond still needed them, and now wasn't the time to get on the wrong side of power. Better to read the room.
Besides, if the sky falls, someone taller will take the hit first. If Ging wants to claim the second-in-command seat, well… let him and Pariston fight it out. That'll be fun to watch.
But not everyone stayed quiet.
"As the current No. 2, Pariston drafted our operational plans and played a crucial role in organizing the expedition to the Dark Continent. What exactly do you bring to the table?"
The one speaking was the puppet girl.
Her tone wasn't hostile this time—there was no "If you're just here to stir up trouble, we'll get rid of you" threat like before. She seemed more measured, less rigid.
"What can I offer?"
Ging scratched his chin, gave a smug grin, and held up two fingers.
"I'll pay double what Beyond promised you. Up front. No strings attached. Otherwise, stay as you are."
"...??!!!"
Everyone was stunned.
What... what are these two doing?!
Ging, seeing their stone-like expressions, scratched his head awkwardly. Ronnel couldn't help but laugh.
Beyond had pulled together this team of elite talent for the Dark Continent expedition, likely at immense cost.
Just like how he lured Ronnel—offering wealth, status, treasures. Whatever it took.
Beyond did have a certain personal magnetism that drew people in.
But if you wanted them to risk their lives, it came down to one thing: value.
Only bonds built on mutual benefit are reliable.
And this crew was no different.
Everyone valued by Beyond had proven strengths—essential for surviving the unknowns of the Dark Continent.
Most were elite Hunters who had once worked with the Hunter Association—discovered and recommended by Pariston.
They were brought aboard Beyond's ship, so to speak, by the promise of generous compensation.
Sure, a few had other reasons for coming—like Pariston, who was probably in it for the thrill.
But for most of them, it was about one thing: money.
So when Ging said what he said, everyone was stunned at first…
Then their expressions began to change.
"I don't think I heard you clearly. Mind repeating that?"
The one with the watermelon-shaped haircut asked in an unusually polite tone.
"You're saying… you're not working for Beyond anymore?" he asked.
"I'm saying I'll pay all of you double," Ging replied. "In advance."
"Other than that, I won't interfere. You can still take orders from Pariston if you like. As long as you acknowledge that I'm the second-in-command. That's non-negotiable."
He shoved his hands in his pockets and said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"But… doesn't that defeat the point of being No. 2?"
One of the members—a waiter and chef—asked, genuinely confused.
Ging was basically paying for the title, just so people would publicly acknowledge it.
Whether anyone would actually listen to him? That was a different story.
It seemed like a waste of money.
But for those who'd joined purely for financial reasons, that didn't matter. When most of the group was still trying to make sense of it, someone asked right away:
"You said you'd pay double up front—for real?"
The speaker was the gloomy-looking man with no chin. He stood up, visibly excited.
"Of course," Ging nodded. "Just give me your account number, and I'll transfer it immediately."
"But… what if this splits the group?" Watermelon Head looked visibly tempted but still hesitant. "The last thing we want is internal chaos…"
Ging smiled.
"Then I'll say this: if Beyond can use money to bring you together, I don't see why I can't use money to secure my position. That's fair, isn't it?"
He paused.
"Besides, the journey's just beginning. I've got time."
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Fanfic is completed on patreon.com/FanficsHub (799 chapters in total)