The strategy session was in full swing when three sharp raps on the door cut through the conversation.
Gon practically bounced to the entrance, his face still flushed with excitement from talk of ships and Shadow Beasts. He pulled the door open to reveal Wing standing in the hallway, with Zushi half-hidden behind him.
"Master Wing! Zushi!" Gon stepped aside, grinning. "Come in!"
Wing didn't move immediately. His gaze swept over Gon like a searchlight, cataloging every detail—posture, breathing, the clarity in his eyes. Only when he confirmed the boy was unharmed did the tension in his shoulders ease, though his expression remained unreadable.
He had been carrying the weight of Kyle's ability like a stone in his chest. Dimensional travel. Soul contracts. The risks were unknowable. Seeing Gon alive and well lifted some of that burden, but not all of it.
"Master Wing," Killua and Kyle rose from their seats in unison, offering polite nods.
Wing returned the gesture and stepped inside, Zushi trailing behind him like a nervous shadow. The younger boy's eyes kept darting toward Kyle, his hands twisting the hem of his shirt.
Wing wasted no time on pleasantries. He looked directly at Kyle, his tone serious. "Kyle. I need you to tell me everything about the other world."
Kyle had been expecting this. He didn't hesitate.
He described the world of pirates in clinical detail: the Grand Line's erratic climate, the Devil Fruits that defied natural law, the brutal hierarchy of power that separated the strong from the dead. He spoke of the Yonko, of Haki, of a world where the sea itself was a living, merciless god.
Killua leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes gleaming as he imagined the chaos. Gon sat forward, fists clenched unconsciously, caught between awe and anticipation.
When Kyle finished, Wing fell silent. His fingers drummed against his chin, his gaze distant. The quiet stretched long enough to become uncomfortable.
Finally, he lifted his head. His eyes locked onto Kyle's with an intensity that could cut glass.
"Kyle. I need you to promise me something."
"What is it?" Kyle straightened, sensing the gravity in Wing's voice.
"Do not contract anyone from the other world."
The words hung in the air like a verdict.
Kyle understood immediately. If someone from the pirate world signed the contract and came to this dimension, the consequences could be catastrophic. A man like Doflamingo or Crocodile, armed with Nen and free from the World Government's surveillance, would be an uncontainable threat.
"I understand your concern," Kyle said, his voice firm. "I promise."
Wing exhaled, the weight lifting visibly from his shoulders. The unknown was the most dangerous element. Human desire, unshackled, could spiral into disaster. This promise was at least one lock on Pandora's box.
"We should go," Wing said, glancing at Zushi. "You all need rest."
But Zushi didn't move. His feet seemed nailed to the floor. He looked at Kyle, then at Gon and Killua, his lips trembling as if he were trying to summon words from the depths of his courage.
"Master..." Zushi's voice was barely audible, a whisper laced with yearning.
Wing saw the plea in his student's eyes. He sighed, recognizing the battle was already lost. "Don't stay up too late," he muttered, then turned and left alone.
The moment the door clicked shut, Wing's calm mask crumbled. His expression darkened, weighed down by thoughts he couldn't voice in front of the boys.
Kyle's ability is a double-edged sword. Infinite potential... and infinite risk.
Should such power even exist?
He laughed bitterly to himself. What kind of luck did he have, stumbling into not one, but three monsters in the making?
Inside the room, Zushi took a trembling step forward. He looked up at Kyle, his eyes shining with a fragile, desperate hope.
"Kyle... can I... can I also—"
Kyle placed a hand on Zushi's shoulder, his tone kind but unyielding.
"Zushi. My contract slots are limited."
He paused, letting the weight of the next sentence land fully.
"And if a contracted person dies in the other world, I don't just lose their shared progress. I suffer backlash. The consequences... are unpredictable."
The light in Zushi's eyes guttered out like a candle in the wind.
He ducked his head, blinking rapidly. When he looked up again, he had forced a smile onto his face—brittle and unconvincing.
"I-I get it! I wasn't that serious anyway! That world sounds super dangerous, and I need to focus on training here! My goal is to become a Floor Master, you know!"
The words tumbled out in a rush, as if speed could camouflage the lie.
"It's late! You guys should rest. I'm heading back!"
He turned and practically fled from the room, his hand shaking as he grabbed the door handle.
Gon watched him go, his preternatural instincts picking up every tremor of suppressed emotion. He turned to Kyle, his brow furrowed in frustration.
"Kyle... can't we really take Zushi? We could protect him!"
Kyle sighed. He placed both hands on Gon's shoulders, forcing the boy to meet his gaze.
"Gon. Listen to me. This isn't a game. The pirate world is brutal beyond anything you've seen. The path to strength is paved with blood, and it demands talent and survival instincts that can't be taught."
He squeezed Gon's shoulders gently.
"Zushi works hard. But hard work isn't always enough. Forcing him into that environment wouldn't help him—it would kill him."
Killua draped an arm over Gon's other shoulder, his tone casual but serious. "Idiot. Kyle's right. The best thing we can do for Zushi is come back alive and tell him stories. That's the gift he actually needs."
Gon looked between his two companions. He thought of Zushi's trembling smile, the way he had run from the room. His chest felt tight, but slowly, he nodded.
"...Yeah."
Kyle clapped his hands together, snapping their attention back. "Alright. Our priority is singular: your fight with Hisoka. Fourteen days. No time for distractions."
Gon took a deep breath. The hesitation burned away, replaced by razor-sharp focus. "Right!"
"From now until the match, we drill the fundamentals," Kyle continued. "Specifically, Gyo. Hisoka's Bungee Gum has perfect In. If you don't maintain constant Gyo during the fight, you won't even know how you lost."
"Understood!" Gon and Killua answered in unison.
Kyle raised a single finger, his gaze sweeping across both boys. "Starting now, whenever I point this finger at the ceiling, you activate Gyo as fast as possible and tell me the number I write with my aura. We're going to burn this reflex into your bones."
"Got it!"
Without warning, Kyle's finger shot upward.
Killua's response was instantaneous. His eyes sharpened, aura flooding his pupils in a controlled burst. "Gyo."
Gon, on the other hand, blinked. Then scrambled. His face scrunched in concentration as he belatedly forced his aura into focus.
"Seven!" Killua called out, sharp and confident.
"...Seven!" Gon echoed a beat later, sounding flustered.
Kyle looked at Gon and shook his head, his expression somewhere between exasperation and concern.
That delay was with Killua as a reference point, in a controlled environment. Against Hisoka—a magician who thrived on misdirection and chaos—that hesitation would be fatal.