Inside the Chimera Ant Special Task Room at the Hunter Association headquarters, the atmosphere was thick with exhaustion. Beans, Pariston Hill, and Cheadle Yorkshire were caught in a "black company" death march that would make even the most hardened corporate drone turn pale.
"Are you doing alright, Beans? You look even greener than usual today! ☆"
"I haven't had much time for photosynthesis lately," Beans replied, his hands flying across his keyboard. "But thanks to your hard work, Pariston, we're actually staying afloat."
Cheadle watched the two of them, amazed at how Pariston could work with such efficiency while maintaining his constant, chirpy chatter. It was as if his hands and mouth belonged to two different people. Over the past few days, Pariston hadn't made a single suspicious move; in fact, his support had been flawless.
To be blunt, without Pariston, the work would never have been finished. Their current average of three hours of sleep would have been a distant dream.
(The Chairman and Beans were right about him,) Cheadle thought. (But I wonder what brought on this sudden change of heart?)
When Netero had first decreed that Pariston should handle the bulk of the paperwork, Cheadle had spent every spare second searching for traps or hidden errors in his documents. Now, she was so swamped she didn't even have time to check his work—which, ironically, was the reason Pariston was behaving. To a professional attention-seeker, there was no greater pain than playing a prank that no one had time to notice.
"Cheadle, Chairman Netero and the others are departing for East Gorteau soon. Do you truly believe this seven-person Vanguard is the right choice?"
"It wasn't my choice, it was the Chairman's. If you have a complaint, take it up with him."
"I phrased that poorly," Pariston chirped, leaning back. "I've met Morel, his disciples, and Knov. But I've never met the other three. I want to hear your assessment, since you saw them at the dojo."
Cheadle paused. The memories of the last few months at the Shingen-ryu headquarters flashed through her mind. Before her professional dislike for Pariston could color her words, a sincere answer escaped her lips.
"The next Martial God, Godspeed... and the Monster."
"That's wonderful! The leap of the younger generation is our bridge to the future! ☆ Cheadle, could you please sign off on these revisions?"
The world's most cunning Rat had failed to recognize the true nature of the "muscle" involved. He knew of Hisoka's strength and madness through his own investigations; thus, he assumed the "Monster" Cheadle referred to was the clown. His thinking stopped there.
Cheadle, for her part, considered Hisoka the one worthy of being the "Next Martial God."
(Gon Freecss... Ging's son. He's a different kind of freak from his father—a singularity in this world.)
Cheadle went back to work without explaining that the "Monster" was actually Gon. Even if Pariston had understood Gon's true nature, it likely wouldn't have changed anything on the Chimera Ant front. However, his failure to truly look at the boy would soon bring about a situation he never could have predicted.
While the Rat remained uninterested in the "Mad Muscle," a massive shift was about to occur in the relationship between humanity and the Chimera Ants.
"Pardon the interruption!" a staffer shouted, bursting into the room. "East Gorteau is about to begin an emergency global broadcast!!"
The Chimera Ants were launching their first strike—not against a city, but against the world's consciousness.
***
The broadcast was transmitted across every global media outlet. For a nation as small and isolated as the East Gorteau Republic to secure global broadcast rights was a feat achieved through Bizeff's diplomatic maneuvering and the massive secret fortune amassed by Masador Diego.
At 7:00 PM local time, a speech that would change history began.
"My dear comrades, I am Masador Diego, Supreme Leader of the East Gorteau Republic."
Those who knew Diego were stunned by the change in him. The man on the screen was no longer the bloated, sickly figure of excess. He had leaned out, his skin looked healthy, and his eyes were clear. Diego calmly announced his abdication, stating he would henceforth serve the nation in an advisory role.
He then stepped aside, knelt, and bowed deeply to the new leader. Even to the eyes of Nen users watching the screen, there was no sign he was being manipulated. It was the voluntary, reverent gesture of a man honoring his superior.
Then, the Sun that had been hidden in the shadows finally revealed its brilliance.
"I speak to all of humanity. I am the light that illuminates all. I am King Meruem."
Meruem appeared—a figure who looked nearly human and spoke with perfect eloquence, yet was undeniably "other." The sheer wrongness of his silhouette was enough to make children scream and adults recoil in instinctive fear.
"I shall now take a moment of my precious time to speak of this nation's future, and of our kind—the Chimera Ants."
Yet, no one could look away. As Meruem sat in his usual posture—one knee drawn up—he radiated a staggering sense of majesty and reliability. His deep voice possessed a profound gravity and an almost parental warmth.
Nen users were even more affected; the sheer intensity and clarity of the aura radiating from him, even through a screen, was so overwhelming it made them forget to blink.
Meruem spoke of the massacres in NGL. He didn't offer a hollow apology for the tragedy, but he spoke with clinical precision, even announcing the exact number of human casualties.
"I believe a King's duty is to reward merit. However, since I know of no way to reward the dead, I shall return everything to the living citizens of this land."
He promised to continue the policies that were already turning the nation around, pledging that loyalty would be met with status and hard work with reward.
"Already, both humans and Chimera Ants hold high offices in this government. People of this land, raise your heads. What you desire—a True King—stands before you."
Meruem struck his chest, flaring his aura. Though it couldn't be "felt" through the broadcast, his sheer presence was made manifest to the average viewer.
"The days of this country being ruled by parasitic trash who care only for their own pockets are over. Here, every man shall be rewarded for his labor and live his life without fear. This is the state as it should be."
His speech—delivered with the perfect tempo and tone afforded by his Absolute Mastery—captured the hearts of the masses. Meruem stood up, his voice rising for the finale.
"Gather, my people! I shall realize a true utopia! From this moment forth, the East Gorteau Republic is renamed the Sun Nation of Memphis! We shall stand at the apex of this world!"
The ruling classes of the world frowned in disgust. The common people trembled with excitement. Despite Meruem belonging to a species they had never seen, no one doubted that he possessed the power to make his words reality.
"Nationality and race are irrelevant. I wait for those with the resolve to serve me and this nation. Bizeff, I leave the trivialities of immigration and administration to you. Ensure everyone understands clearly."
Meruem exited the frame, replaced by Bizeff, who began detailing the new immigration laws. While the newly christened Sun Nation of Memphis erupted in cheers, a heavy silence fell over the rest of the world. People were too focused on Bizeff's explanation to miss a single word.
The world now knew of the Chimera Ants and their new nation. The speech had succeeded in framing Meruem and his kind not as insects, but as a sovereign sub-human race.
***
Twenty-four hours after the speech, the leaders of the V5 met to discuss the situation. The table was laden with luxury and fine wine, and as the alcohol flowed, so did the vitriol.
"Their immigration—or rather, asylum—policies are reckless. We should wipe them out before too many people move there."
"I'd love to, but many of our member nations have already declared a neutral stance. Taking such an inhumane route now would cause massive political fallout for our future governance of that territory."
"Infuriating. We manage the threats of the Dark Continent for the good of humanity, yet the masses only know how to whine."
"Indeed. Perhaps the best course is to hold the Hunter Association responsible and blow them all up together?"
"Isaac Netero refused. He insisted on defeating them head-on. He told us that if we want to drop a bomb, we should wait until the Association fails."
As the leaders sat in a stalemate, a new voice rang out in the room—a space protected by the highest level of global security.
"Sorry to interrupt your meal. I've got a message from the boss."
The V5 leaders looked around, but no matter how they strained their eyes or searched for a presence, the table held only food and wine.
"If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have said anything," the invisible visitor continued. "They call me the Observer. I'll leave as soon as I deliver the message, so just listen."
"...Very well. Will you tell us who this 'boss' is?"
"No can do. Though if you just wait, he'll probably get in touch with you himself soon enough."
The Observer's message was blunt: The boss had brought the Chimera Ants here, and he could do it again as many times as he liked. It was a direct provocation to the V5.
"We've got the 'Guide's' permission for these ants, so don't go ruining everything with missiles or your little Roses. If you do anything stupid before the Hunter Association finishes the job, one of the 'Calamities' might just 'accidentally' leak out. Consider yourselves warned."
It was a threat to unleash a Dark Continent catastrophe. Given the fact that the speaker was currently in their secure room, the V5 knew it wasn't an empty boast.
"You've given the job to Isaac Netero, so sit back and let him do it. ...That's the message. Enjoy your dinner."
The voice vanished. After a long, heavy silence, one of the V5 leaders smashed his wine glass against the table.
"...Our course is set. If the Hunter Association wins, fine. If they lose, we wipe the entire region off the map. Any objections?"
The world was being held hostage by an unknown party. Humiliated, the V5 adjourned, leaving the fate of the world in the hands of the Hunter Association.
***
"...Was that really for the best?" the Observer asked, walking through a nondescript corridor. "I think it would have been easier just to let them blow up Netero and be done with it."
"Don't be a fool," a voice replied through his earpiece. "That wouldn't be interesting at all. We've set the stage this far—it would be a waste not to see how it ends, regardless of which way it falls."
"I guess. Well, as long as I get to watch something fun, I'm not complaining. Ants vs. Hunters... sounds like a hell of a show."
"Doesn't it? Keep a close eye on it. I trust your reports."
"Copy that, boss."
Amidst a web of conflicting agendas, the world's path was decided.
Chimera Ants or Hunters—who would grasp the future they desired? Only one thing was certain: in this world, only the strong get to decide their own way.
***
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