Three days flashed by in a blur of meditation and planning. When the cooldown finally reset, Kyle activated the Book of Resonance.
Space warped, and the three boys stepped out into the salt-heavy air of the Pirate Age.
To cultivate Haki, the environment of the Hunter world was insufficient. The unique atmospheric density and spiritual laws of this dimension were required to forge that specific type of power. If they wanted to get stronger, they had to cross the threshold.
"So this is the other world?"
Killua took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air that tasted of brine and adventure, untouched by the smog of modern cities. He looked out at the endless horizon of the blue sea and the rough-hewn timber buildings of the harbor, his eyes sparkling.
"Yeah," Kyle nodded, adjusting his backpack. "But first things first. We're broke. We need to convert some assets into local currency."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a few porcelain vases—items that were barely considered "nice" in the Hunter world, mass-produced replicas sold in souvenir shops.
"How much can you even get for that junk?" Killua picked one up, flicking the rim. It let out a dull clink. "The craftsmanship is okay, I guess, but back home you'd find this on a street vendor's blanket for pennies."
"Scarcity creates value," Kyle smiled confidently. "Look at the glaze. Smooth as a mirror. Look at the art style—bold colors, abstract lines. In a world dominated by rough iron, wood, and heavy canvas, this level of delicate, modern artistry is alien. It's a masterpiece."
They walked toward the bustling Shells Town docks, where stevedores were sweating under crates of spices and rum.
Kyle scanned the crowd, his eyes sifting through the noise until they landed on a target.
A middle-aged man with a well-groomed handlebar mustache was lounging on a reclining chair, eyes closed, looking utterly bored. His clothes were high-quality silk, and a young attendant stood by his side, haggling with a ship captain on his behalf.
"Him," Kyle whispered.
"Tch," Killua glanced over. "Looks like a slippery old fox."
"The sharper they are, the harder they fall when you exploit an information gap," Kyle grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. He leaned in, whispering the script to Gon and Killua.
Plan set, Kyle stepped forward, transforming his expression from confident leader to timid, country bumpkin.
"U-Um... excuse me, Mister?" Kyle stammered, holding the vase tight to his chest. "We... we have something really nice. Do you want to see it?"
The man with the handlebar mustache cracked one eye open. Seeing three kids, he waved his hand dismissively like he was swatting a fly. "Shoo. Go play somewhere else. I'm resting."
Kyle didn't retreat. Instead, he "nervously" pulled the vase out of his bag.
The timing was perfect. The midday sun caught the cobalt glaze, and the vase erupted in a dazzling display of reflected light. The abstract, modern patterns seemed to dance on the surface.
A merchant nearby, who had been inspecting tobacco leaves, froze. The expensive cigar in his mouth fell to the floor.
"That..." The merchant's voice trembled. "That craftsmanship! What kingdom produced such porcelain?!"
His exclamation was like a stone dropped in a silent pond. Ripples of attention spread instantly through the dock.
The man with the mustache snapped both eyes open. When his gaze landed on the vase, his pupils constricted. He sat up straight, the lethargy vanishing instantly.
But he was a veteran. He masked his shock in a split second, replacing it with a look of critical disdain.
"Hmph." He stroked his mustache, leaning forward to inspect it with feigned indifference. "The clay quality is mediocre. And this painting... it looks like a child's scribble. But I suppose it has a certain... rustic charm."
He sighed, as if doing them a massive favor.
"Tell you what. You kids look like you need a meal. I'll give you 300 Berries for it. Consider it a charity."
A ripple of hushed snickers moved through the crowd. 300 Berries wouldn't even buy a decent lunch. It was robbery.
Gon, who knew nothing of economics, felt something else.
His awakening Observation Haki picked up the emotional currents swirling around him. He felt the sticky, dark sludge of Greed oozing from the mustache man. He felt the sharp spikes of Contempt and the bubbling heat of Desire from the onlookers.
It was a fascinating, invisible lesson in human nature. The man's words said "worthless," but his soul screamed "I must have it."
Gon's eyes widened. So this is what lying feels like.
Killua shoved his hands in his pockets, suppressing a smirk. Showtime.
"300... Berries?" Kyle blinked his big, innocent eyes. He started counting on his fingers, looking utterly confused. "That... that can buy a lot of popsicles, right? Thank you, Mister!"
He moved to hand the vase over.
"Wait!"
A portly merchant in a velvet coat shoved his way to the front. "Kid! Don't be an idiot! He's scamming you! That thing is a treasure! I'll give you 2,000 Berries!"
Kyle snatched the vase back, clutching it to his chest like a frightened squirrel. "T-Two... thousand? How many popsicles is that?"
The dam broke.
"I'll give you 2,500!"
"3,000! Sell it to me!"
"Out of the way! 5,000 Berries and a detailed chart of the East Blue!"
The price rocketed skyward. The merchants swarmed, shouting over each other, faces flushed with gold fever.
The mustache man turned purple. He jumped out of his chair, shaking his fist at the interlopers. "You vultures! I saw it first! Where are your manners?! 10,000 Berries!"
Kyle stood in the center of the storm he had created, looking "overwhelmed" while secretly gauging the desperation in the air. He glanced around, silently asking 'Is that the best you can do?'
Killua finally couldn't hold it in. He let out a sharp "Pfft!" of laughter, quickly turning it into a cough.
The bidding war spiraled out of control.
"50,000!"
"100,000!"
"500,000!"
Gon stared, slack-jawed.
Back home, Kyle had bought that vase for 100 Jenny—the price of a can of soda. Here, the bids were crossing one million Berries.
The math hit Gon like a physical blow. If they did this in reverse... if they bought rare items here and sold them back home...
We'd be rich.
Killua was seemingly doing the same math, but his equation ended with a mountain of limited-edition Chocolate Robots. A literal river of drool threatened to escape the corner of his mouth.
"One million, one hundred thousand Berries!"
The mustache man screamed the number, his voice cracking. Silence fell over the dock. The other merchants glared, but no one raised their hand.
The deal was done.
As the man handed over the thick stack of bills, he looked physically ill. He had intended to spend pocket change, and instead, he had emptied his safe.
From the shadows of the alleyways, several pairs of eyes watched the transaction. Rough men with bandanas and cutlasses exchanged glances, licking their lips. Three kids. Over a million Berries. No guards.
It was like watching a buffet walk by.
Kyle stuffed the cash into his bag and led the group away from the docks, heading toward the edge of town.
"We're being followed," Killua said cheerfully, not even bothering to look back.
"Just a few small fry," Kyle replied, his voice calm. "But they have their uses. Gon, take 10,000 Berries. Go to the market district and buy as much food as you can carry. Meat, mostly."
He handed a stack of bills to Gon.
"Meet us at the slopes."
Gon took the money, nodded once, and peeled off toward the market.
Killua and Kyle turned right, heading directly for the isolated path leading up the mountain.
The pirates trailing them paused. They watched the group split.
"The little one went for food."
"Ignore him. The bag with the million is with the other two."
"Heh. Let's go."
They turned in unison, ignoring Gon completely, and began to stalk their prey up the mountain road.