Pain seared Richard's abdomen, the dagger wound screaming with every step. He clutched the blood-soaked shirt covering it, grimacing as he stumbled through a shadowed alley.
"Gotta find somewhere to patch this up," he muttered, voice strained. "Bleeding out in this body would be a lousy way to start."The city was a chaotic sprawl, its neon lights and distant shouts overwhelming to someone who, until yesterday, had lived a normal life on Earth.
Now he was here, in Hunter x Hunter's brutal world, trapped in the body of some mafia brat whose memories were still a jumbled haze. All he knew was the body's father had been a big shot, and betrayal had left Richard running from killers. Great welcome package.
He kept to the alleys, dodging the city's pulse—vendors haggling, tires screeching, a scream cut short. The rebels he'd killed last night were gone, but their allies wouldn't be far behind. He needed to stay sharp, even if this world's rules were still sinking in.
A flickering sign caught his eye: Clinic. The building was small, its windows grimy and curtains tight. Shady, but Richard wasn't picky. He pushed the door open, the bell above giving a feeble chime.A young man in a rumpled suit looked up from a cluttered counter, glasses glinting under dim fluorescents.
"Uh… sir? You good?"Richard tugged his shirt aside, exposing the raw gash. "Hurt. Fix it."
The young man's eyes widened, but he gestured to a side room. "Right, follow me."The room was bare—a creaky bed, a chipped sink, and a tray of worn tools. It smelled of antiseptic and neglect, like a place you went when you couldn't afford questions. Richard eased onto the bed, wincing as the movement pulled at his wound.
"Lie down," the young man said, his tone calm but wary, like he'd seen too many bloody strangers. He worked fast, disinfecting the gash, scrubbing away blood and dirt with steady hands. His wild hair and slightly messy suit didn't match his skill, but Richard wasn't here to judge.
"Not bad," Richard said, breaking the silence. He was still getting used to this body's voice—deeper, rougher than his own had been.The young man glanced up, offering a crooked smile.
"Thanks. I manage."He finished, wrapping the wound in gauze with quick precision. "Done. That's 8,000 Jenny."Richard reached for his pocket, then froze. No wallet. Probably lost in the chaos of waking up mid-chase. He met the young man's gaze, the air growing thick.
"I don't have cash," he said, keeping his voice even. "But I'll pay." He unclasped a watch from his wrist—fancy, probably the mafia kid's—and held it out. "Take this for now."The young man turned it over, squinting.
"This real? Looks expensive."
"Worth more than 8,000 Jenny," Richard said, hoping it was true. "You'll get your money."After a pause, the young man nodded, pocketing the watch.
"Alright. Deal."Richard leaned back, eyes drifting shut as the pain dulled.
His mind replayed last night—the closet, the clarinet's haunting notes, the rebels' crazed faces as they tore each other apart. And that thing in the deep sea, its cold presence lingering like a bruise. It had changed him, given him power this body hadn't earned.In that closet, his Aura Nodes had snapped open, Nen rushing through him like a storm. Knowledge came unbidden—Ten, Zetsu, Ren, Hatsu—the four cornerstones of Nen, dumped into his head like a cheat code. Now, in this dingy clinic, he tested them, trying to make sense of his new reality.
"Ten," he whispered. Aura shimmered around him, a faint glow hugging his skin. He guided it to his wound, the pain softening as his life energy worked.
"Okay," he thought, "Ten's like a shield. Even without being an Enhancer, it's keeping me alive."He tried Ren next, pushing his aura harder. The air seemed to hum, heavier now. He focused it on his wound, urging the flesh to mend faster. The tingling in his side was faint but real, like a spark catching. "Ren's got kick," he murmured. "Zetsu and Hatsu… I'll figure those out when I'm not half-dead."His Nen ability surfaced in his mind.
With a thought, the clarinet appeared, cool and solid in his hands. "Crazy Sonata," he said softly, tracing its curves. It echoed the Dark Sonata's legend—a melody that broke minds. His version could drive listeners mad, turning them against each other, but he could control it, pick who fell. A power that felt more like a trap than a gift, especially with that sea monster's shadow behind it.
He glanced at the door. "Hey, doc," he called. "Water?"
"On it!" the young man replied, his voice brighter, like the watch had eased his doubts.Waiting, Richard's eyes fell on a drooping plant by the window. A lightbulb went off—Mizu Shiken, the Water Divination test. It'd tell him what kind of Nen he was dealing with, maybe give him an edge. He plucked a leaf, set it on the glass of water the young man brought, and placed his hands around it.
"Let's see," he said, releasing his aura. The water rippled, then darkened to an inky blue, like the abyss he'd seen. A shape formed—tentacles curling, eyes glinting with cold hunger. Whispers brushed his mind, sharp and alien, promising things he didn't want to understand.Richard yanked his hands back, heart pounding. The image vanished, the water clear.
"Not Enhancement, not Emission," he breathed.
"Specialization. Figures."That deep-sea thing was woven into his Nen, into Crazy Sonata. Specialization made sense for a power this weird, but it left him uneasy, like he'd inherited more than just a mafia kid's body.
The young man poked his head in. "You okay? Heard something."
Richard waved him off. "Just thinking."
As the young man turned, Richard caught a name tag glinting on his chest, freshly pinned. His breath hitched: Leorio.
A faint smile tugged at Richard's lips. Maybe this world wasn't all knives and monsters. Maybe he'd caught a break