In a luxurious office furnished with an expensive wooden desk, a woman with distinctly canine features was engrossed in her work. Her features were so naturally pronounced that it was impossible to tell if they were genuine or some form of disguise.
Strange noises occasionally interrupted the office's professional atmosphere.
"Hehe!"
"Slurp!"
The sounds came intermittently, until finally the working woman couldn't tolerate it any longer.
"Bisky! If you want to look at that magazine, go outside and do it—and stop making those strange noises!"
The source of the disruption was Bisky, lounging on a nearby chair with a magazine about handsome men, reading with visible enjoyment. At the reprimand, she set the magazine aside and turned to the woman at the desk.
"Kite, how much longer will you work? Didn't we agree to go shopping together?"
A vein pulsed on Kite's forehead. "We agreed on the afternoon. It's only noon!"
"Perfect timing for lunch, then. Do you know any good restaurants around here?"
Kite rubbed her forehead in exasperation.
Just then, Bisky's phone vibrated. She glanced at the unfamiliar number and answered.
Kevin's voice came through. "Master! It's been a while. How have you been?"
"Not bad."
"I have good news—I got my hunter license."
"That would only be surprising if you hadn't."
"Don't be like that. Getting a license isn't easy."
Bisky chuckled. "Just get to the point. You wouldn't call me without a reason."
"You're as perceptive as ever, Master. I do need your help with something."
"Mm."
"I urgently need a doctor with exceptional medical skills—preferably a Nen user. You mentioned before that you're friends with Kite, so I wanted to ask if you have her contact information."
Bisky silently turned her head toward Kite, who waited nearby, slightly confused by the attention.
"Your timing is remarkably convenient," Bisky said into the phone. "She's right here with me."
"Really?"
"I was actually thinking of finding an opportunity to introduce you two. I'll send you her information shortly."
"Thank you, Master! I won't forget this!"
Bisky ended the call and met Kite's questioning gaze.
"Someone needs my help?" Kite asked.
Bisky nodded. "One of my apprentices."
Kite smiled knowingly. "An uncut gem, I assume?" As Bisky's close friend, she was intimately familiar with her characteristic phrasing.
"He needs a doctor. He probably found your information—you're quite famous, after all. He must have remembered me mentioning you, which is why he contacted me first." Obtaining Kite's contact information through intelligence networks wouldn't have been difficult, but doing so would be impolite, especially since Kevin knew she was Bisky's friend. That was Bisky's assessment of his approach.
Kite listened, then nodded thoughtfully. "Even if he's your apprentice, I won't agree to help unless I'm interested in what he has to say." Her time, while not critically limited, wasn't something to squander casually.
Bisky smiled knowingly. "Don't underestimate him. You'll definitely find him interesting."
"Oh? Then I'll look forward to it."
Just as Bisky prepared to send Kite's contact information, Kevin's message arrived first. It contained a detailed list of potions available for trade, along with a direct question: would Kite accept these potions as payment? Since Bisky and Kite were together, Kevin suggested Bisky review the offerings as well. If acceptable, they could discuss cooperation; if not, no further trouble was needed.
"There are this many varieties?" Bisky hadn't delved into the specifics of Kevin's Nen ability before. Seeing the comprehensive list surprised her. She immediately forwarded it to Kite.
Kite studied the message carefully, scrolling through the descriptions. "These are products of your apprentice's Nen ability? Specialized potions." As a professional Hunter with medical credentials, she had to admit the list captured her interest. The customization options were particularly intriguing.
The potions covered diverse applications, suggesting the underlying Nen ability was remarkably versatile. She speculated that Kevin likely needed to source materials himself and possessed relevant pharmaceutical knowledge—restrictions that balanced the ability's power. The practical applications were undeniable.
"Alright," Kite conceded. "If payment is in potions, I'll agree to go. But he needs to send me the patient's information first." Standard medical protocol—she needed to assess the case before committing.
Soon, with Bisky's mediation, both parties reached a preliminary cooperation agreement.
Meanwhile, Kevin and Menchi had boarded the airship for their return journey.
Several days later, the airship landed at Vassa City Airport—the city where the Nostra Family was based.
Menchi lounged in the plush leather seat of the mafia's limousine, studying Kevin with obvious amusement. "A mafia boss. How interesting."
Kevin waved dismissively. "It's complicated. Let's just say we're close partners."
He didn't elaborate—Menchi was mostly teasing anyway. Hava drove silently up front, the first Nostra Family member Kevin had ever contacted, now effectively his subordinate handling various odd jobs.
"How's the manor?" Kevin asked.
"Quiet since you left. But two young ladies arrived yesterday—said you'd arranged for them to come."
Kevin nodded, mildly surprised they'd arrived a day earlier than him and Menchi. Two young ladies? Had Bisky come along too? His master certainly seemed leisurely. Then again, she was in her fifties—perhaps this was how she chose to enjoy her free time. The mildly treasonous thought flickered through his mind before he set it aside.
The vehicle pulled up to the suburban manor.
Menchi shaded her eyes, taking in the sprawling estate. "This is where you live? Grand."
"It's acceptable. You're welcome to stay a few days—I'd enjoy the company." And your cooking, he added silently.
They walked toward the manor, chatting casually.
In the garden pavilion, Bisky sat drinking tea with Neon. Spotting Kevin, she raised her hand in a lazy wave.
Kevin approached directly.
"You're slow," Bisky observed.
"My apologies, Princess. When I contacted you, I was still in the Kakin Empire." He offered an exaggerated bow, as if performing a knight's salute. "Your loyal knight has returned."
Bisky's eyes lit up. She tilted her head, rose gracefully from her seat, and extended her hand for him to kiss. "My lovely princess will not punish you."
"Teacher!"
The voice cut through the moment like a blade. Mori stood frozen at the garden entrance, clearly realizing he'd arrived at precisely the wrong time.
Unlike Mori's perpetual seriousness, Kevin's easygoing nature meshed perfectly with Bisky's eccentricities. The contrast was stark.
Menchi and Buhara watched from a distance, expressions caught between bewilderment and amusement. They'd recognized Bisky—her reputation preceded her—but nothing had prepared them for her personality.
"Uncle Kevin!" Kurapika and Pairo appeared alongside Mori, their voices overlapping.
Light and Rosana hurried over moments later, followed by a figure Kevin didn't recognize.
Must be Kite, he concluded. The three-star Hunter, Bisky's friend. Her distinctive features—somewhat animal-like—were immediately memorable. Likely a disguise or Nen effect rather than her true appearance.
Within minutes, the garden held all the manor's key figures. Introductions circulated, names exchanged, connections established.
After sufficient social niceties, Kevin led Bisky, Kite, and Pairo to the family infirmary.
Kite wasted no time. "This is the patient. I've performed preliminary observations, but without you present, I didn't conduct a full examination. Shall I proceed now?"
Efficient. Direct. Kevin appreciated it.
He nodded and placed a hand on Pairo's shoulder. "Go with her."
Kite produced what resembled a medical record book and began with standard consultation questions—symptoms, history, daily experiences. She performed simple examinations using ordinary equipment, but Kevin detected Nen woven throughout every interaction. Not a specific ability, but a refined technique.
The examination proved thorough yet efficient. Soon, Kite delivered her assessment.
"The problem stems from a childhood fall. For reasons unknown, he received no proper treatment at the time, leaving permanent sequelae. As he aged, the effects compounded." She adjusted her glasses. "Too much time has passed. Even with high-precision surgery, full recovery to a healthy state may prove impossible."
Neurological damage. The most difficult to repair. Her assessment reflected current medical standards for ordinary patients.
She met Kevin's gaze directly. "However—we're Nen users. With my ability, I can perform more refined treatment. Recovery is possible." She paused, letting that sink in. "But it will require time. The full course would take approximately three years—two treatments annually, each session lasting two to three hours."
Kevin processed this. Total time commitment wasn't enormous, but the extended duration reflected the body's need to adapt gradually. Pairo's condition wasn't acute injury or inherent illness; it was chronic neurological damage. Had he received timely treatment after the fall, Kite could have resolved it in moments.
Three years. But achievable.
But the problem was that so many years had passed without resolution, allowing the sequelae to worsen and spread—to his optic nerves, his brain, and both legs. And these were merely the most severe manifestations. In reality, his entire body had grown weak; the impact was comprehensive.
Simply put, it was a problem caused by procrastination. Such issues couldn't be solved through simple surgery; they required slow recuperation and gradual, gentle treatment.
Pairo's face fell as he absorbed the doctor's words. So my body really is too weak after all. If this continued, let alone revenge—even living a healthy life would be a challenge.
Kevin spoke up. "My Nen ability might provide good auxiliary effects during treatment. I invited you here not only for his examination but, more importantly, to collaborate on developing a specific antidote tailored to his current condition."
Kite showed no surprise—this aligned with her expectations. She offered a measured reminder. "If that's the case, I'll need to understand your Nen ability in depth. I'll promise confidentiality, but I hope you'll carefully consider the risks involved."
Her own ability focused on examination and related treatment. Developing a specialized antidote would rely primarily on Kevin's power, with her providing professional knowledge and investigative assistance.
Kevin nodded easily. "No problem. Shall we discuss compensation now?"
Kite inclined her head. "Ordinary money doesn't interest me. I'd prefer payment in your potions. If their effects match your descriptions, I'll adjust my fee accordingly." She added, "From the moment I begin assisting with treatment, the cost will accumulate continuously. Keep that in mind."
Kevin understood. A three-star Hunter commanded appropriate rates.
He produced two vials from his waist. "These are samples—not part of the remuneration. Examine them at your leisure."
Kite accepted them curiously, turning the vials in her fingers. She didn't immediately test or analyze them. "I'll study them carefully later."
A verbal agreement was reached. Kite would draft a contract; treatment would officially begin tomorrow, with compensation calculated from the contract's signing. She generously waived fees for travel and the two intervening days.
Kevin noted something remarkable: this three-star Hunter excelled not only in medicine but also in law. Medicine and law—both demanding fields requiring years of dedicated study. Becoming a Hunter already marked someone as exceptional; a three-star Hunter represented the pinnacle of achievement.
Collaborating with her will be fascinating, Kevin thought. Even casual advice might prove invaluable—her knowledge base operated on an entirely different level from his own. The original owner's medical education couldn't compare either.
After everyone dispersed, Kevin walked with Bisky through the manor gardens.
"Those three—they're from the massacred Kurta clan, aren't they?" Bisky asked quietly.
Kevin nodded. No point denying it.
"Rich experiences these past months," Bisky observed. "But your strength hasn't suffered."
Kevin smiled. "I've never relaxed my training." With consistent practice and potion support, his total Nen had exceeded twenty thousand and continued climbing.
"I didn't expect you to actually remove the potions' side effects." Bisky's tone held genuine wonder. She knew more than most—understood that Kevin's ability stemmed from Post-mortem Nen. Yet he'd somehow eliminated side effects for others, which seemed almost contradictory.
She hadn't researched Post-mortem Nen as deeply as Ging, nor did she grasp Kevin's full circumstances. She might speculate about consciousness transfer or soul reconstruction, but transmigration from another world? That lay beyond imagination.
"Bisky, I want to discuss the Hunter community with you."
She blinked at the abrupt shift. "Why?"
Kevin outlined his idea: a potion vending store targeting Hunters.
Understanding dawned. "For advice? Of course." Bisky had her own interest—these side-effect-free potions appealed to her as well.
That night, Kevin sat alone in his study, contemplating the path ahead. Pairo's treatment would span years, but progress would come. The potion business offered sustainable income. His Nen grew steadily.
Step by step, he reminded himself. Everything in its time.