After settling his affairs, Vega stepped out of the restaurant and into the sprawling garden beyond.
The backyard spanned several acres, meticulously maintained by a handful of male servants—pruning branches, tending flowers. Further out, black-suited enforcers of the Pendleton Syndicate patrolled the gates, earpieces crackling as they scrutinized every approaching stranger.
Vega cast them a fleeting glance before strolling across the manicured lawn. The breeze tousled his hair, as he is lost in thought.
His mind churned with strategy—Nen, the Ten elders, and the precarious balance of power in Nacro City.
Yesterday, thanks to the system, he had forcibly unlocked his aura nodes, awakening Nen. He'd used that surge of power to enhance two artifacts, and with them, carved a bloody path to dominance overnight. Now, he ruled Nacro—a city of nearly a million—with an iron grip.
But his rise had drawn the ire of the Council of Ten, the shadow overlords of the underworld. Even as city councilors like Jack publicly bowed to the Pendletons, Vega knew they conspired with the Council in secret.
To outsiders, the Vega and Pendleton families stood on the brink of annihilation, destined to crumble beneath the Council's wrath.
Yet Vega wasn't worried.
His Enhancement System guaranteed his ascent. With enough experience points, he could forge weapons powerful enough to crush any threat.
But one obstacle loomed larger than the Council: the Yin beasts.
Whether usurping the Council or defending against their retribution, he'd need strength to rival those monstrous entities. Only by slaughtering Yin beasts with ease could he secure his ambitions.
So far, his only benchmark was Michelle, a supposed subordinate of the Council.
And Michelle had been disappointingly weak.
A swarm of shadow warriors had overwhelmed the Nen user with ease—hardly a worthy measure of the Yin beast's true power. Vega refused to underestimate them.
In his mind, he'd already ranked combatants by tier:
E-Rank: Novices who barely grasped Nen (e.g., the crippled trio from the 200th Floor).
D-Rank: Mediocre practitioners—half-trained bodyguards like Shakimono Dorchino .
C-Rank: Skilled Nen users, capable of overpowering armed civilians. Yin beasts and the Council's assassins likely fell here.
B-Rank: Masters—the caliber of the Phantom Troop.
A-Rank: Elite forces (e.g., chrollo the troop Leader, or the Twelve Earth Branches).
S-Rank: Legends like the Hunter Association Chairman or Jin.
By this metric, Yin beasts were at least C-Rank. Normal humans stood no chance; only Nen artifacts could level the field.
If the Council sent multiple Yin beasts—or worse, Nen-using assassins—his current strength might not suffice.
"Then I'll just enhance my artifacts further," Vega resolved, his worry hardening into determination.
Without hesitation, he summoned his car and ordered a drive to Nacro City's Blackthorn Prison—a hellhole reserved for the worst criminals.
Last night's negotiations had granted him unrestricted access to the inmates. Since the Kingdom of Armenia banned executions, even mass murderers faced only endless imprisonment.
Perfect for farming experience points.
Vega wasn't a indiscriminate killer, but these monsters had outlived their usefulness.
Time to reap their sins.
Meanwhile, Aboard an Airship Over Nacro…
The massive vessel descended, its opulent interior occupied by only three figures—the rest mere attendants.
"Boss Crimson, who's the mark this time?"
A scaly, green-haired man—Lizard—lounged on a sofa, groping two women with a leer.
Crimson Serpent flicked a photo onto the table. "Don't screw this up, Lizard. The target's Vega Pendleton."
The image showed a striking young man—sharp-eyed, regal, unmistakable.
Lizard grinned, jagged teeth glinting. "Pretty boy. I'll play with him real good."
"Don't underestimate him," Crimson warned. "He's a Nen user. Michelle's already dead."
Lizard scoffed, crushing a wineglass in his grip. "Three of us against some brat? Please. Kid probably doesn't even know Ren yet."
"Remember where we came from," Crimson snapped. "Meteor Street had monsters his age."
A third figure—Hound—snatched the photo, memorizing Vega's face. "Let's move. Nen users mean no slip-ups."
As the airship landed, a convoy of black cars idled on the tarmac. Engines roared.
The hunters rolled into Nacro.