Richard leaned against the clinic wall, catching his breath. His wound throbbed under the bandage, a reminder of the dagger that nearly killed him. Leorio, the guy who patched him up, looked younger than expected—barely out of his teens, with an honest vibe that didn't fit this world.
Richard glanced at the dirty window. He was in Hunter x Hunter, stuck in some mafia kid's body. The guy's memories were fuzzy, but enough came through: a dead father, a betrayed family, enemies on his tail. None of it was Richard's mess, but he was the one running.
Footsteps pounded outside—fast, heavy. Richard tensed, hand slipping to the clarinet in his pocket. "Again?" he muttered. "These guys move quick."
Leorio frowned, heading for the door. "What's that?"
"Stay back," Richard said, but the door crashed open before he could finish. Wood splintered, and three men barged in.
The leader, a wiry guy with a scarred cheek, locked eyes with Richard. "Found you, Vellucci."
Leorio stepped up, fists raised. "Get out of my—"
Scarface swung, knocking Leorio into the wall. The teen hit hard, sliding down with a groan, blood on his lip.
Richard didn't think twice. He pulled out the clarinet and played. Crazy Sonata's notes came out sharp and fast, spreading through the room. The gang members froze, eyes going red, faces twisting. One swung a knife at his buddy, who tackled him back. The third clawed at his own arm, muttering nonsense.
Richard kept playing, his control tighter than last night. The Sonata hit harder now, bending their minds in seconds. He stopped the music, and the survivors collapsed, gasping. He grabbed a knife from one, finishing them with quick stabs to the chest. No point leaving loose ends.
Leorio stared from the floor, eyes wide. "What was that?"
"Get up," Richard said, wiping the blade clean. "We're leaving."
Leorio stood, shaky. "Leaving? Why?"
"They saw you with me," Richard said, heading for the door. "This place isn't safe anymore. They're after me, and they'll think you're involved."
They hit the street, sticking to alleys. Richard kept his voice low. "You helped me, so they'll come for you too. That's how they work. No talking, just knives."
Leorio rubbed his jaw, grimacing. "I didn't ask for this."
"Same here," Richard said. He wasn't this Vellucci guy, just a guy from Earth stuck in his skin. Didn't matter to the hunters. "Keep that watch I gave you. It's worth 200,000 Jenny. Call it my sorry for the trouble."
They reached a split in the alley. Richard stopped. "Two options. Airship plaza's close. Get a ticket, leave town. I'll keep them busy. Or stay with me, and I'll try to watch your back. You pick."
Leorio didn't pause. "Airship."
"Good call," Richard said. "We're done here."
"Hang on." Leorio pulled a packet from his pocket. "Meds for your wound. Painkillers, anti-inflammatories."
Richard took it. "Thanks."
He started to leave, then turned back. Something about Leorio—his stubborn decency—made Richard speak. "If you want to get tough, make some cash, find the Hunter Exam. It's a start."
Leorio blinked. "Hunter Exam?"
Richard was already moving, gone before the question landed.
Leorio didn't wait around. He jogged to the airship plaza, bought a ticket for the next flight—anywhere but here—and boarded fast. Sitting down, he finally breathed.
"What a day," he muttered, touching his bruised face. He pulled out the watch, checking it under the light. "Hope it's really 200,000."
He thought back to the clinic—Richard's clarinet, the gangsters losing it. That wasn't normal. He shook his head.
"Not my fight," he said, leaning back as the airship took off.
Richard climbed to a rooftop, ignoring the ache in his side. He focused his aura. "Gyo," he said, pushing energy to his eyes. The street below came into focus—another group moving his way, five guys. One stood out, aura flickering around him. Nen.
Richard squinted. The guy carried a gun, his aura sharp, like it could slice. "Emmiter, probably," he muttered, thinking of Hunter x Hunter characters like Franklin or Leiza.
Bullets were bad news against Nen.
He needed a better spot. A block away was the ruined house where he'd awakened Nen—walls to hide behind, space to move.
"That'll work," he said, heading for it. His clarinet felt heavy in his hand. Crazy Sonata could drop the grunts, but a Nen user might fight back. He'd have to play smart.