Machi, I'm going to rest. What about you?" Machi raised her head and looked at Rimo after carefully putting the thin steel wire back into the lining of her clothes.
"I'll sleep later. I've basically been 'sleeping' the whole day already, so I'm not tired yet," Rimo replied with a self-mocking tone.
On the one hand, Rimo truly did not feel any sleepiness at all. On the other hand, he planned to wait until Machi fell asleep before quietly going outside to test the changes that had occurred in his body.
Machi nodded lightly and did not expose Rimo's intentions.
When she reached the edge of the mattress, her small hand drew a clear line down the middle and she said calmly, "I'll sleep on this side. You sleep on the other side. If you cross the line, I'll kick you out."
"Don't worry. I won't," Rimo replied, slightly helpless. Did he really look like that kind of person?
Machi did not respond further. She lay down, pulled a worn but clean blanket over herself, closed her eyes, and began to rest.
Her breathing, which had been slightly tense at first, gradually slowed and became steady.
After confirming that Machi was truly asleep, Rimo stood up from the corner where he had been sitting.
He deliberately slowed his movements, gently pushed the door open, and slipped out into the open area outside.
However, what Rimo did not know was that the moment the door closed, Machi, who had supposedly fallen asleep, slowly opened her eyes.
She stared at Rimo's retreating back through the door gap, her expression unreadable.
Outside, Rimo looked at the empty clearing and the towering garbage piles surrounding it.
He stretched his body slightly.
Too many things had happened in a single day, and until now, he had not had a moment to think calmly.
First, he had crossed into a world where strength determined everything, and had landed directly in Meteor Street, the most chaotic and dangerous place in the entire Hunter world.
Second was the abnormal change in his body. Although everything so far seemed beneficial, without understanding his own abilities clearly, Rimo could not feel at ease.
For a moment, his thoughts were tangled, unsure where to begin.
"No matter what, the body is the foundation of everything…" Rimo muttered, lifting his head toward the dark sky.
With the pollution level of Meteor Street, there was no such thing as stars.
"Let's start by confirming the self-healing theory."
Rimo glanced around at the garbage heaps filled with unknown substances. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he decisively abandoned the idea of finding an external object to injure himself.
Looking down at his right hand, he noticed his fingernails were a little long.
That would do.
After a brief hesitation, Rimo grabbed his left forearm and scratched a wound about one centimeter long, deep enough to draw blood.
This was just a test. There was no need to overdo it.
But what happened next exceeded his expectations.
The wound disappeared almost the instant it appeared. Even the pain vanished completely.
If not for the faint blood stain left on his nail, Rimo would have suspected hallucination.
"This speed… this is not normal."
Shock flashed through his eyes.
"No, the wound was too small. That proves nothing."
A trace of determination surfaced.
This time, Rimo clenched his teeth and dragged his nails forcefully from his elbow down to his wrist.
"Hiss—"
Sharp pain surged through his nerves.
The result, however, was even more terrifying.
Before a full second passed, the torn flesh squirmed slightly and sealed itself. The long wound vanished without leaving a scar.
Rimo stared at his intact arm in disbelief.
This level of recovery far surpassed ordinary Nen reinforcement. It was closer to an abnormal passive regeneration ability.
More importantly, there was no fatigue. No consumption. Nothing.
"This alone is enough to survive in the Hunter world…"
After confirming his self-healing, Rimo moved on to the second ability.
He raised his right hand.
A familiar piece of tender Kobe steak appeared in his palm.
Rimo stared at it for a long time.
"What exactly determines this…"
He had clearly imagined braised pork earlier.
After several more attempts, the result was the same.
"Kobe steak… again?"
Rimo frowned, replaying the moment when the steak first appeared.
"That strange throbbing…"
It was a bodily reaction, not imagination alone.
Drawing on his professional psychological training, Rimo began guiding his emotions.
He recalled the disgust he felt watching Uvogin and the others eat black cakes, the image of cockroach protein bars, and layered that nausea with desire for real food.
The throbbing surged again.
Rimo opened his hand.
This time, a large piece of braised pork appeared.
"It worked."
He exhaled slowly.
"So the key is resistance and desire…"
If that was the case, then food was not the limit.
Rimo sat down cross-legged, thinking deeply.
His gaze fell on his healed arm.
"If pain can trigger it…"
He reconstructed the sensation mentally, replacing fingernails with a kitchen knife.
The intense imaginary pain caused the throbbing to surge violently.
His palm twisted.
A solid kitchen knife formed.
Grip.
The wooden handle was warm and real.
Rimo's pupils contracted.
"…It's real."