Arin leaned against the tavern's outer wall and waited. It didn't take long.
A few minutes later, the man stumbled out the door, wiping his mouth with a sleeve.
Alone.
He turned toward the alley between two buildings. Arin followed silently.
No one saw.
Arin moved like a shadow quick,
One hand wrapped around the man's mouth, the other jabbed into his gut.
The man gasped in pain but couldn't scream.
"Shh," Arin whispered, dragging him deeper into the alley.
He pulled the wallet from the man's belt and snatched the ring off one finger.
The man squirmed, but Arin's grip was solid.
He could fight when he needed to, and the man was too drunk to put up much resistance.
With a final grunt, Arin released him. The man dropped to the ground, groaning, clutching his stomach.
He stretched, and then with a targeted hit, he kicked the man in the head like kicking a soccer ball.
"Thud!"
A crushing sound was heard, and the man entered into a deep sleep.
Arin stopped to think for a second.
"I could not risk him identifying me by any chance," he thought.
He then got hold of the man's head and started hitting it on the solid rock ground until the man lost his pulse.
Arin stepped back into the light and kept walking.
He didn't look back.
He opened the pouch and smiled.
About thirty thousand, Jenny.
Nothing massive.
"If it were compared to 'USD,' I should have three hundred USD..."
"Civilization," he murmured, "isn't so bad after all."
As he walked down the street, blending in with the flow of people, he kept that same amused smile on his lips.
Let others worry about morality.
He just made his first withdrawal.
-
Arin moved with subtle urgency.
He followed the curve of the main road until he reached the quieter end of Blue Tree Town.
Most travelers seemed to congregate near the center, closer to the market and taverns, but here, tucked behind a row of old buildings, was a narrow two-story structure with a painted sign swaying gently in the wind:
"Narla's Place—Rooms & Meals."
It was perfect.
Arin stepped inside.
The air smelled of cooked meat and damp firewood.
A few locals sat scattered about.
None of them turned to look at him for long.
Good, Arin thought. No one here is curious.
He made his way to a corner table by the window, where shadows gathered thickly, and sat down with his back to the wall. He let his shoulders relax, but only slightly.
His eyes never stopped moving, watching the exits, the other patrons, and the door.
A woman approached shortly after.
She looked to be in her late thirties, wearing a simple linen apron over a faded gray dress.
She stopped beside his table, resting a hand on her hip.
"What'll it be?"
"I'd like a plate of meat," Arin replied, his tone polite but firm, "with vegetables. Something filling."
The woman nodded once. "And to drink?"
"A beer," he said, then added, "if it's cold."
Another nod. She started to turn away when he spoke again.
"One more thing. Do you know where I can get a map?"
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "And maybe… a ticket. For travel."
The woman raised an eyebrow but didn't press.
"Mel Shop. Just around the corner past the blacksmith's. They've got maps, traveler's gear, and some tickets if they're available."
"Open now?"
"It's night, stranger," she said flatly. "It'll open at first light."
Arin nodded slowly. "Got it."
She scribbled something down on a notepad and added,
"The meal and drink come to five hundred, Jenny. Pay before.
Arin nodded and paid five hundred Jenny.
After the woman took the money, she just turned and walked away.
He leaned back slightly, exhaling.
He glanced out the window.
Night had fallen.
A few minutes later, the woman returned with a plate of thick cuts of roasted meat, sautéed greens, and chunks of potatoes glistening with butter. A wooden mug of foamy beer followed. She set them down wordlessly and walked away.
Arin didn't wait.
He picked up the fork and dug in. The food was better than he expected—rich, savory, and spiced in a way he couldn't quite place.
The beer was a little bitter but cold enough to feel refreshing.
As he ate, he let his mind drift.
Mel Shop. Map. Ticket.
He needed to figure out where in the Hunter x Hunter world he was. It could make the difference between survival and instant death.
He shook the thought away.
Tomorrow. One step at a time.
He finished the last bite, wiped his mouth with the cloth provided, and took one final sip of beer.
Then, standing, he walked up to the woman who had served him. She was wiping down the bar counter, her back to him.
"Here," he said, placing five hundred Jenny on the counter. "The food was good."
"Glad you didn't collapse at the table," she replied without turning. "Most people who come in like you are half-dead."
"Lucky me," Arin muttered with a faint smirk.
"You want a room too?" she asked, finally glancing over her shoulder.
He paused, considering.
"How much?"
"Seven hundred for the night. Comes with a lock. No meals."
He nodded slowly. "Alright. One night."
She reached behind the counter, grabbed a rusted iron key with a faded red ribbon tied to it, and handed it over. "Upstairs. Second door on the left."
He took the key without another word and made his way up the stairs.
Arin locked the door, set the chair under the knob as an extra precaution, and dropped onto the bed.
He stared at the ceiling for a long time.
I need that map tomorrow. Then figure out where I am, how to survive, and how to learn Nen fast.
His eyes closed slowly.