Chapter 822
The battle was over.
The scene was devastating. Alex, Rondo, Melissa, Ujir, and George—none of them had escaped without serious injuries. In fact, their side had fared worse than their opponents. But even so, the outcome had been decided.
A mass of Aura leaked from the bodies of the defeated and flowed into Alex's group. Once that Aura was gone, the defeated combatants aura dropped drastically, falling from A-rank Nen users all the way to C-rank.
In contrast, with the energy they'd absorbed, Alex and the others were directly elevated to A-rank.
For Nen users, the gap between B-rank and A-rank was massive. Breaking through that barrier normally required a great deal of time and effort. Even for someone like Ron, moving from B to A had taken considerable time. Killua and Gon still hadn't reached A-rank even now.
But Alex and his team had ascended with ease.
That night, Ron handed the updated One Piece manga to Alex. After taking it, Alex didn't leave. Instead, he looked at Ron.
"Am I strong enough now?"
"Still not quite."
Ron shook his head.
Disappointment flashed across Alex's face, but it quickly turned to determination.
"Then I'll get even stronger—soon."
Now, Alex had two goals. One was to win the Grand Martial Trail. The other was to gain Ron's recognition.
After that conversation with Ron days ago, Alex's mindset had begun to change.
Later, everyone drifted off to sleep.
Ron kept some distance from the rest. At that moment, he suddenly sensed something.
A powerful aura.
Ron immediately turned toward it—and saw a figure. At the same time, that figure also noticed Ron and released a sharp burst of intent.
In the next instant, a shape stepped between them.
It was Rosgell, Ron's Nen beast.
The pressure landed squarely on Rosgell's body but didn't threaten him in the slightest. The attacker's pupils narrowed. Realizing the difference in strength, they quickly began to retreat.
Ron gave chase.
The opponent was fast—but Rosgell was faster.
Forced to stop, the intruder found themselves surrounded. Rosgell moved to block the front, while Ron approached from behind.
The attacker gritted their teeth and grabbed the hilt of their blade. Instead of retreating, they spun around and charged directly at Ron.
In that moment, they had judged that between Ron and Rosgell, Ron was the weaker target.
But just before they reached Ron—
Another figure appeared.
Wither.
The intruder's pupils shrank again. It was too late to change course. They could only swing their blade at Wither—who blocked it cleanly.
"First Bomb."
Sensing danger, the intruder instantly released the weapon.
A moment later, the blade's hilt exploded.
Boom.
The explosion made no sound, but its impact was fierce. The entire sword was annihilated.
Rosgell and Wither attacked simultaneously. Ron withdrew to the rear.
This enemy was definitely S-rank. Ron could see it clearly—their aura confirmed it. But now, he no longer feared that level of threats. A typical S-rank was no longer a match for him.
Still, what Ron cared about was the attacker's true identity—and their purpose.
Under pressure from both Rosgell and Wither, the intruder began to falter. In a one-on-one, they might have held their ground, maybe even had an advantage. However, facing two opponents at once—particularly with Ron standing nearby—was an entirely different situation that left the attacker at a clear disadvantage.
Wither's First Bomb ability clearly intimidated them, while Rosgell's speed and raw strength kept them completely suppressed. His primal, instinct-driven fighting style made it difficult for the opponent to predict his movements.
"Yes, they're S-rank," Ron thought, "but among S-ranks, this one's on the weaker side. No match for Chairman Netero, and definitely not a match for my second grandfather."
The intruder kept backing away.
"I surrender!" they shouted. "I have no hostile intent!"
They raised their hands and stopped attacking.
Ron signaled to Rosgell and Wither.
Both halted—but as Rosgell walked past the enemy, he suddenly threw a punch into their abdomen. The blow bent the intruder over in pain.
"That's for attacking me first."
Ron didn't intend to kill them—not yet. He wanted information. But that didn't mean he'd forget the initial attack.
The intruder let out a bitter laugh.
"You're not from the Minpo Republic, are you? We might actually be able to cooperate."
"And how would that work?"
"Let me introduce myself first. My name is Chris."
Ron's brow lifted slightly.
Chris?
He had seen that name before, in his intelligence reports.
By now, the Grand Martial Trail in Minpo was nearing its end—or rather, reaching its peak. Most of the weak and mid-tier factions had already been eliminated. Only the truly strong remained.
The teams left could be divided into two tiers. Alex's team belonged to the second tier. Seven teams were on that level.
Chris's team was part of the first tier—four teams in total.
"The Grand Martial Trail is actually a trap," Chris said. "Everyone participating is just someone else's pawn. All our efforts are being used to build a stage for someone else."
"The person behind it all. Once the Trail ends, we'll all become sacrifices for their power."
"I don't want that. That's why I stepped out—looking for a way forward."
Chris looked at Ron. "What's your relationship with Alex?"
Ron shook his head. "Nothing much. We just know each other."
Chris stiffened.
"Then what do you want?"
Ron didn't answer directly. Instead, he asked, "You said the Trail is a trap, and there's someone pulling the strings. Can you tell me what kind of trap it is, and who this person is?"
Chris hesitated.
They hadn't confirmed an alliance yet. Ron hadn't even made his position clear. Was it really worth revealing this information now?
But after a brief internal struggle, Chris clenched his jaw.
He decided to speak.
Because in his mind, running into Ron might be the best opportunity he'd ever get.
And if he missed it—he likely wouldn't get another.