Hunter x Hunter: The Strongest Zoldyck

Chapter 124 Newcomer's Baptism

As soon as Fika finished uttering the 'ne' sound, the air in the passageway suddenly changed.

It didn't change gradually; it suddenly sank!

It was as if an invisible giant hand was pressing down from the ceiling, gripping the entire 100-meter-long passageway in its palm.

The white walls on both sides of the wall are still white, the lights are still bright, and the floor is still flat, but everything is no longer the same as before.

The air became thick, and every breath felt like searching for oxygen in a hypoxic environment. My steps became heavy, and every time I lifted my leg, it felt like pulling myself out of a swamp.

Fica's voice caught in her throat.

He stared wide-eyed at the passage ahead that suddenly became deep and long, his lips moved a few times, but no sound came out.

That wasn't fear; it was a primal bodily reaction, like a rabbit being targeted by a predator. Its limbs stiffened, its blood rushed backward, and all rational thought was instantly cleared from its mind, leaving only the most primitive signals etched into its genes.

Don't move, don't make a sound, don't breathe.

Serapika stopped right there on the spot.

She didn't stop voluntarily; her body made the decision for her.

The moment the pressure descended, her feet felt like they were nailed to the ground, and she couldn't take a step.

She looked down at her legs; her knees weren't bent, her muscles weren't stiff, her bones weren't broken... but they just wouldn't move forward.

That invisible pressure of thought, pouring out from the end of the passage, was like a transparent wall, keeping her outside.

She looked up at Roy's back.

His short, silvery-white hair gleamed with a cold, frosty hue under the corridor lights. His back was ramrod straight, and his steps were unwavering, even more steady than before.

The mental pressure seemed to have no effect on him...

"Boss!"

Fica's voice came from behind Roy, trembling noticeably, but he didn't stop.

The red-haired boy's legs were trembling, his knees were bending, his back was arching, veins were bulging on his forehead, and beads of sweat were pouring out, but he didn't stop.

He gritted his teeth and took one step after another, like a fish swimming upstream against the current, requiring all his strength to move forward an inch.

Roy did not turn around.

But he heard two distinct sets of footsteps behind him; one had stopped, while the other was still walking.

The red table at the end of the corridor was getting closer.

The registrar behind the desk stood silently, her brown eyes devoid of any emotion, watching the three of them walk in through the passageway. One was blocked outside, one was desperately trying to force his way in, and the one who always walked in front, his steps as steady as a stroll. She saw this scene every day: newcomers attempting to climb two hundred floors, blocked by the mental pressure in the passageway.

Some people quit, some people fainted, and some people cried and shouted that this was unfair.

But this was the first time she had ever seen a group like this: one being blocked outside, one gritting their teeth and forcing their way in, and one walking on flat ground with an expressionless face.

Serapika stood at the entrance of the passage, not taking another step forward.

It's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't.

That layer of mental pressure was like an invisible threshold; her body told her:

You can't get over it now.

She clenched her fists, her pale yellow dress swaying gently in the wind of the corridor. Watching Roy's figure grow smaller and smaller, she suddenly remembered something and looked down at her hands...

Her fingers were slender and fair, with distinct knuckles, and her nails were neatly trimmed.

These hands have become steadier, faster, and stronger in the past few days, but they are still a long way from opening that door.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again, saying, "You guys go ahead, I'll wait for you in the lounge..." With that, Serapika turned around cleanly, turned her back to the passage, and walked back the way she came.

Her steps were unhurried, her skirt swaying gently... She didn't turn around!

All she wants now is to go back to even more grueling training... She never wants to experience the same thing again.

Fica is still walking.

His legs no longer felt like his own; his knees were trembling, his ankles were weak, and every step felt like walking on cotton.

But he's still walking.

Sweat streamed down his forehead, across his brow, and into his eyes, stinging him so much he couldn't open them.

He dared not close his eyes, because every time he closed them, the pressure would become heavier, so heavy that he wanted to lie down, curl up, and unload all his weight onto the ground.

"Cover yourself with thoughts..."

""

In front of Fica, Roy's calm voice came from ahead. Without hesitation, the red-haired boy did as he was told, activating his Nen and guiding it to cover his entire body with his mind.

The instant his thoughts enveloped him, he suddenly realized he could walk.

It wasn't that the Nen pressure had disappeared... The Nen pressure was still there, even heavier than before, but his body felt as if it were wearing an insulating suit, keeping all the discomfort out.

"Huh... I feel like there's no pressure anymore."

Fika jumped twice on the spot, and then returned to normal. This amazing performance prompted him to exclaim involuntarily, "Boss, you're amazing! After I did what you said, I'm completely normal again."

"Was that oppressive feeling just now the 'newcomer baptism' you mentioned before?"

Roy stopped in front of the red table and looked back.

Fika stood three steps behind him, his red hair soaked with sweat, strands clinging to his forehead, his face a mixture of sweat and tears, panting heavily, his chest heaving like an old engine that had just run its limits.

But he's laughing now.

It wasn't a bitter smile, nor was it self-deprecation; it was a smile of relief.

"Boss, I'm here."

Seeing that Roy didn't answer, but only glanced at him, Fica walked over with his smile still on his face.

Tap tap tap....

A few steps later, Fica also arrived at the registration desk.

Roy looked at him for a moment, then reached out and patted Fika's wet head.

They didn't say you did a good job, nor did they say you're really amazing.

I just gave it a light tap, like any other time.

Fica's smile deepened.

The registrar glanced down at the list in his hand, then looked up at Roy, then at Fica, and then expressionlessly took two player passes from under the table, placed them on the table, and pushed them over.

"Two hundred floors, welcome."

Her voice was completely flat, like a machine with a pre-programmed script.

"From today onwards, you are contestants on the 200th floor."

Roy picked up his player ID and glanced at it.

Photo, name, number, floor.

Everything is right, everything is going according to plan.

After putting his player pass into his pocket, Roy turned to look at the empty and silent space outside the passage, shrouded in mental pressure.

Fica stood beside him, following Roy's gaze into the depths of the passage.

But there was nothing there, only air, only light, only that invisible layer that weighed on everyone's shoulders.

A heavy weight of thoughts.

"Boss," Fika suddenly spoke up, "What are you looking at...?"

Roy was silent for a moment, then shook his head: "I'm looking at the people hiding behind that..."

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