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Chapter 99: Blinky
Ronin stood before the clinic, his eyes tracing the cracks in its weathered facade. It was a substantial structure—two stories of reinforced concrete and memories, stretching twenty meters long. Most people would see an immovable object; Ronin saw a logistics problem.
He stepped forward and pressed his palm against the rough exterior. Closing his eyes, he let his consciousness slip into his Nen. He felt the cold stone and the deep, silent weight of the foundation. He began to bleed his aura into the walls, guiding it downward like liquid fire. He intended to use [Shu] to permeate the very bones of the building, turning it into a singular, cohesive extension of his own body.
Five meters... He tracked the progress. The aura flowed easily at first, coating the walls in a shimmering, protective film. But as he pushed toward the ten-meter mark, the strain began to mount. His Nen consumption spiked, and the density of the [Shu] started to flicker and fade.
So, this is the limit. He withdrew his hand, his breath coming in a rhythmic huff. Even with his advanced control, his reach as an Enhancer had its boundaries. Stretching his aura across such a massive volume was like trying to keep a sheet of water from evaporating in the desert. Beyond five meters, the energy simply bled out into the environment.
A faint, clever smile crossed his face. If one man wasn't enough, he would simply provide more men.
He crossed his fingers into a sharp, precise seal. Poof. Poof. Poof.
Three plumes of white smoke erupted around him, and as they cleared, three identical versions of Ronin stood in a perfect square around the clinic. Shizuku, standing nearby, blinked rapidly, her head tilting in genuine confusion.
Clones? she thought. His combat style is pure Enhancement—raw power, speed, and durability. But this... this is high-level Conjuration or Manipulation. Who is this person?
Ronin didn't give her time to process the mystery. He channeled a different kind of energy, feeling the familiar hum of chakra swirling in his gut.
[Earth Style: Super Light-Weight Rock Technique]
At his signal, all four Ronins pressed their hands against the clinic. Their collective Nen surged in a synchronized wave, the four distinct pools of aura merging into a single, massive cage of energy that locked the foundation into place.
Suddenly, the air groaned. Gravity seemed to lose its grip as the jutsu took hold. The massive clinic didn't just lift; it rose from the earth as effortlessly as a piece of driftwood caught in a rising tide. The sound of tearing soil and snapping pipes echoed through the quiet street, but the structure itself remained perfectly intact, held together by the absolute grip of Ronin's [Shu].
"Your turn!" Ronin called out, his voice steady despite the immense output of energy.
Shizuku snapped out of her daze. She didn't hesitate. In a flash of light, the large, toothy vacuum cleaner, [Blinky], appeared in her hands.
"I'll begin the intake now. I am storing the entire clinic," she said, her voice remaining as flat and clinical as if she were vacuuming a rug. She clicked the intake switch.
A localized hurricane erupted from the vacuum's mouth. The clinic, now weightless and unified by Nen, began to warp. The space around the building folded like paper, its massive volume compressed into a swirling blur of color and light. With a final, surreal whoosh, the entire two-story building was swallowed whole, vanishing down [Blinky]'s throat.
The vacuum cleaner dematerialized into motes of light, and a rare, ghost of a smile touched Shizuku's lips. She looked at her empty hands, then back at Ronin.
Ronin dispelled his clones and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. Just as the smoke from the clones dissipated, two masked figures—Kurapika and Neon—emerged from the shadows of the nearby alley.
Instantly, the air turned cold. Shizuku dropped into a low, predatory stance, her hand already reaching for the space where [Blinky] had just been. Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses, focusing on the newcomers with lethal intent.
"Easy. They're with me," Ronin intervened, stepping between them.
Shizuku paused, her gaze darting between Kurapika's stern mask and Neon's more decorative one. She looked back at Ronin's mask and slowly stood up, her tension bleeding away. She nodded once, accepting the explanation without question.
"We need to move," Kurapika said, his voice tight. "The Cleaning Squad won't give up this easily. We've kicked a hornet's nest, and the entire district is starting to stir."
"Our goal is Spence's manor," Ronin said, turning toward the street. "Once he's dead, Shizuku will leave the city with us. That's the deal."
"Wait, isn't Spence already dead?"
Damian stepped out from behind a pile of rubble, tossing a spent cigarette aside. He looked at the empty patch of dirt where the clinic had stood and whistled low. "I know where the manor is. Get in the car—this bit of intel is on the house. Consider it a front-row seat to the show."
The group piled into Damian's vintage sedan. The interior smelled of old leather and stale tobacco. Damian threw the car into gear, and they roared down the street. He drove like a man with nothing to lose, weaving through the maze of abandoned cars and ramming his reinforced bumper into anything that blocked his path.
As they neared the exit of the district, they saw them: dozens of Cleaning Squad members, their rifles leveled and their faces grim. It was a blockade designed to stop an army.
But as the car approached, something strange happened. The soldiers caught sight of Ronin through the glass—the man who had torn apart a tank with his bare hands. One by one, the rifles lowered. The line parted like the Red Sea, the soldiers stepping back into the shadows to let the sedan pass in silence.
Ronin felt the smooth weight of the stones he had gathered in his palm. He let them drop to the floorboards with a dull thud. It's a pity, he thought. I wanted to see if I could take out a sniper from three blocks away.
"That is the way of survival in Meteor City," Damian said, catching Ronin's eye in the rearview mirror. A cynical smirk played on his lips. "You've heard our motto, haven't you?"
"We reject nothing, but take nothing from us," Kurapika recited, his voice echoing the ancient weight of the words.
"Exactly," Damian said. "It's a beautiful sentiment until you're the one trying to take something. You're an outsider, Ronin. There's no masking that kind of power. If you stay here, you'll be hunted by every soul looking to make a name for themselves. That hunt won't stop at the borders; it'll follow you until one of you is in the ground."
"Let them come," Ronin said, his voice devoid of heat.
He knew Shizuku was a target, a living piece of Meteor City's history that the Elders wouldn't let go of easily. But he wasn't afraid of a hunt. He had spent his life being the hunter.
Meteor City was a land of monsters, but they had never seen a monster like him. He had already broken the Ten Dons; the Elders of this city were just another set of names on a list.
As they sped deeper into the city, the landscape shifted. It wasn't just the wasteland the world believed it to be. Ronin saw bustling markets, schools where children laughed in the shadow of trash heaps, and hospitals that looked cleaner than some in the Republic. It was a functioning civilization built on the world's discarded remains.
"Meteor City has been evolving for a thousand years," Damian remarked, lighting another cigarette. He blew a long cloud of smoke out the window. "In the beginning, the world chose us to be its trash bin. Now? Now we activey choose to be the world's trash bin. There's power in being the place where the world's secrets go to die."
Ronin watched the massive cathedral-like buildings and the towering mountains of trash go by. He felt a strange resonance in Damian's words. This city was a mirror of his own soul—discarded, dangerous, and thriving in the dark.
The buildings eventually thinned out, replaced by ancient, towering trees that seemed to drink the very sunlight. The car veered off the paved road and onto a rugged dirt path.
"Spence's manor is tucked away in this woodland," Damian explained. "The elites here are all the same. They spend their lives ruling the garbage, but the moment they get a bit of power, they hide in the green. It's the only place in the city where you can forget what's over the next hill."
"The air is better here," Neon said, peering out the window. She adjusted her mask, her eyes wide as she took in the lush greenery. "But it feels... lonely."
Ronin looked ahead into the deepening shadows of the forest. "It won't be lonely for long."
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