Gasps spread through the room like wildfire.
Ging wasn't just respected, he was feared. Even people who disliked his personality couldn't deny that his strength placed him among the world's elite. Yet here he was, saying Larry could defeat multiple versions of him? Easily?
That wasn't praise anymore. That was reverence. Four of the so-called "top five Nen users" had just admitted defeat.
All eyes turned to the last one, Chenlong Botobai. He hadn't said a word, but now, under everyone's gaze, he had no choice.
"I've never fought Larry before," Botobai began, and a few people quietly exhaled. Finally, someone who didn't give Larry the crown just like that.
But then he continued. "But I know I can't beat him. Because I couldn't beat Chairman Netero."
It was an honest answer. He hadn't faced Larry, so he couldn't speak from experience. But he had fought Netero, and lost. And if Netero said Larry was stronger than him, then the math was simple.
In a flash, the room's entire energy changed. They had all gathered here expecting to vote on a new set of "Top Five Nen Users."
But now… what was the point? This didn't feel like a selection ceremony anymore. It felt like a coronation.
Wasn't this supposed to be a council for the top five?
Why did it suddenly feel like they were announcing the one and only strongest Nen user alive?
Larry himself didn't know how things had spiraled like this. He hadn't even said a word since Pariston's jab, and yet somehow, Netero and the others had taken turns praising him, piling on declaration after declaration.
And just like that, his role had morphed from "one of the top five" to "the strongest in the world."
He blinked, slightly dazed.
'Wait… all five of them really just said they're not as strong as me? Seriously?'
A part of him began mentally checking off names.
Netero? Already fought him once. Can't farm experience twice.
Linne? Too old. Would feel like bullying a retiree.
Zeno? Could work. You could spar with him for a fee, but his EXP gains weren't that great.
That left… Ging and Botobai.
Now they were interesting. Plenty of value in picking a fight with either one of them. Larry's eyes drifted toward Ging, who looked like he was half asleep, and then to Botobai, who wore a stern expression.
Two solid sources of EXP, still on the list. What Larry didn't know was that Ging had already made up his mind a long time ago, back during their expedition to the ancient ruins. He had no plans to fight Larry ever again.
Once was enough. That fight had been pure suffering.
'The strongest in the world...'
Pariston's smile twitched slightly as he stared at Larry, trying to maintain his usual composure. His brain scrambled to make sense of the situation.
'This... this wasn't the plan.'
He had hoped to expose Larry, to shake his reputation a little, maybe even embarrass him. But instead, the entire room had just witnessed four legends bow their heads to the man.
This outcome wasn't just unexpected, it was a complete reversal. Pariston knew Netero and the others weren't the type to lie for no reason. They had nothing to gain by exaggerating Larry's strength.
So, this could only mean one thing: He had badly underestimated him. 'Time to reevaluate everything.'
"Since President Netero and the other five masters have endorsed him," Pariston added with a warm smile, "I suppose there's no need to test Mr. Larry's strength any further. It's safe to say he's more than capable."
He clearly intended to move past the issue, knowing when to cut his losses. His plan hadn't worked this time, but Pariston was nothing if not pragmatic.
As a shrewd man, he understood that forcing things now would only backfire. But just as things seemed to settle down, someone who clearly wasn't as smart decided to stir the pot again.
"You've got to be kidding me!" a rough voice called out from table eleven.
"You're just accepting his strength based on a few fancy words? No way! At the very least, we need to see a fight, how else is anyone supposed to believe it?"
The speaker was a bald-headed thug with oversized ears, standing behind a group of delegates. His tone was dripping with defiance and dissatisfaction over how Larry was getting a free pass.
This man was part of a gang aligned with the Ten Dons, specifically, under the member known as Pride. Whether he genuinely thought Larry wouldn't retaliate or just wanted to score some points with his boss, it was clear he had no clue what kind of person he was provoking.
The room fell into an uneasy silence. All eyes shifted to the bald thug. Some people admired his guts, however misplaced they were. Others felt a twinge of pity, already imagining the consequences he was about to face.
Most, though, were just curious to see how Larry would respond. After all, what was more entertaining than a self-destructive fool?
Sitting in front of the bald man was a guy in sunglasses who'd been following Larry around. Right now, he looked like he wanted to disappear under the table. He didn't even know where to start, anger, embarrassment, or sheer regret. If he had to pick one emotion that dominated his thoughts, it was definitely regret.
He deeply regretted bringing the bald idiot with him.
Seriously, who in their right mind would pick a fight with the man who'd been hailed as the "strongest in the new world"?
Then it happened.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
A steady, rhythmic knocking echoed through the conference room. It was Larry, tapping his fingers on the table, casual, slow, deliberate.
The entire room froze. Nobody said a word. The only sound was that calm, unnerving knocking.
President Netero didn't step in. He simply watched with a faint, amused expression, as if he were enjoying the show.
Zeno quietly lifted his teacup, eyes focused on the rippling reflection on its surface. No one could tell what was going through his mind.
Everyone waited. And the sound of the knocking began to feel like it was echoing inside the bald man's skull.
Each tap was like a hammer striking his nerves. Within seconds, his shiny scalp was drenched in sweat. It looked like he'd just come out of the ocean. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
The pressure in the room was suffocating. The onlookers held their breath, suddenly aware of just how fragile the atmosphere had become. One wrong move, and they could all be collateral damage.
Then Larry finally spoke. "I don't have that much strength," he said calmly. "But it's not your place to decide that."
The knocking stopped. And in the next instant, a terrifying chill swept through the room. It felt like the temperature had dropped ten degrees, like everyone had been tossed into an ice bath.
"This... this can't be..."
Zeno's eyes snapped upward, his old face pale with shock. Behind Larry, four distinct, monstrous shadows rose.