Ron noticed the man before him was bald, with two hair buns—white in color. The look was strange, even contradictory at first glance. The top of his head was bare, while only the two small buns remained. It wasn’t clear whether they were real hair or merely decorative pieces. His face was powdered pale, with stark red makeup around his eyes and lips. He wore an overcoat completely unsuited for the weather and appeared to be quite old.

But what caught Ron’s attention most was the aura.

An S-rank.

However, it felt stiff and unrefined. Compared to Ron—who had only recently advanced to S-rank—this man was noticeably weaker and far below someone like Ging Freecss. Ron suspected he might have relied on some unconventional method to reach this level.

Among all the S-ranks Ron had encountered, this one—Botobai—was at the very bottom. But even so, he was still undeniably S-rank.

Ron withdrew his gaze. Botobai noticed and glanced back. He had already heard some things about Ron from Mizaistom and Gel, and he also knew about Ron’s performance during the Chimera Ant incident. After Morel and Nob returned to the Hunter Association, they submitted detailed reports, documenting everything from the structure of the Chimera Ant hierarchy to the Hunters who had distinguished themselves during the campaign.

Ron’s name appeared multiple times, and although the reports were factual rather than flattering, they carried enough weight to draw the attention of the Association’s higher echelon.

In the weeks that followed, the Hunter Association had been preoccupied with another urgent matter—the succession of its leadership after Netero’s death. To settle it, a formal election was convened. The procedure was deliberately old-fashioned, overseen by the Zodiacs, and every licensed Hunter had the right to participate.

It was not merely an administrative change; the election would decide the direction of the Association in an era when outside threats loomed larger than ever. Because of this, the atmosphere inside headquarters was tense. Veteran Hunters, rookies, and retired members alike had gathered in the main hall, some out of duty, others out of curiosity, all waiting to see who would step forward as Netero’s replacement.

At the front of the chamber stood the remaining candidates. Pariston, with his ever-present smile, was a man who thrived in politics and manipulation. Ging Freecss looked as casual as ever, but the mere fact that he had bothered to show up gave the room a sense of weight.

Yorkshaw stood beside them, calm and composed, with the quiet confidence of someone ready to shoulder responsibility.

Every eye in the hall was fixed on them; the speeches they were about to deliver would shape the mood of the vote to come.

Following that, Pariston, Ging Freecss, and Yorkshaw each gave their speeches. Then it was time for the general vote.

The method used was the most traditional: paper ballots. People lined up to cast their votes into the box.

“Ron, who are you voting for?” Leorio asked.

“Makes no difference,” Ron shrugged, and wrote down Pariston’s name.

Leorio blinked in confusion, not quite understanding what Ron meant. But soon, it became clear.

After the vote, Pariston won the position of Chairman—only to resign immediately. His successor was Yorkshaw.

At the same time, both Pariston and Ging stepped down from the Zodiacs.

The news sent shockwaves through the Hunter Association. Many members felt deceived, especially those who had gone through multiple rounds of voting. In an instant, Pariston’s reputation plummeted among the general membership.

“Wendy, let’s go.”

“Okay.” Wendy was still puzzled. “Ron, what’s going on with the Hunter Association?”

Ron glanced back. “It’s still just a loosely organized group. A new era is coming. None of them were ever truly united. They all have their own agendas.”

As for Ging’s plans, Ron wasn’t sure. But Pariston—he had likely already struck a deal with Biyonde. Both men were in contact with the upper echelon of the Kakin Empire—specifically, with the King himself.

“Beyond must be strong too,” Ron added.

Beyond was Netero’s son. Given that Zeno was already advanced in age during Netero’s later years, it was difficult to pinpoint exactly when Beyond had been born. However, if Netero had fathered him during his physical peak—which was decades earlier—then Beyond might be close in age to Zeno, or slightly younger.

Yet, unlike Zeno, whose appearance reflected his years, Beyond still looked like a man in his forties or fifties. To maintain that kind of vitality at such an age implied formidable strength—likely enough to place him in the S-rank as well. Otherwise, Pariston wouldn’t have chosen to work with him.

Few people in the world could outmatch Pariston in intellect. For him to align himself with Beyond meant the man’s strength far exceeded his own. And other Zodiac members also treated Beyond with considerable seriousness.

“Ron.” A voice called out from behind. Ron turned.

“Pariston?”

“Do you have a moment to talk?”

Ron nodded. “Sure.”

Many in the Association disliked Pariston. Always smiling, never sincere—you could never tell when he might stab you in the back. People who understood him kept their guard up. Except for Ging.

But Ron wasn’t like the others in the Hunter Association. He had S-rank strength, and a Sequence 1 semi-Nen beast. In terms of intelligence gathering, Ron also had the advantage. Even if the Dark Continent storyline hadn’t been fully revealed yet, he had already uncovered plenty on his own.

“Wendy, wait here for a bit.”

“Okay.”

Ron glanced toward a corner. “Let’s talk over there.”

Pariston nodded.

They moved into a secluded area with no one around.

“Ron, I’d say you’re already at the level Netero once was.”

“Something like that.”

Pariston’s gaze lingered on Ron for a moment. He was older, but the strength he had failed to attain, Ron had already reached. He didn’t speak on it, and his face showed no change, but beneath the surface, something stirred—faint, familiar, and unwelcome. It wasn’t admiration.

It had never been, not even for Netero. What settled in the corner of his thoughts was envy. He concealed it well, as he always did, folding it neatly behind a smile that never reached his eyes.

Still, Ron’s presence couldn’t be ignored. Whether as an ally or a potential obstacle, he had to be accounted for.

“Are you interested in joining us?” Pariston asked. “The journey to the Dark Continent won’t be easy. But our team is well-equipped. If you join, it’ll give us an even greater edge. Right now, we have—”

But before he could finish, Ron cut in.

“Sure.”

Pariston froze for a second, then quickly smiled again.

“Ron, welcome aboard.” He extended a hand.

Ron shook it.

“Looking forward to working together.”

“I have other things to take care of first, so I’ll head off. We’ll talk again soon.”

Pariston nodded. “Right. See you then.”

Watching Ron’s back as he walked away, Pariston’s eyes gleamed.

“Interesting.”

“To reach that level at such a young age—he’s no ordinary person.”

“But he’s nothing like Netero or Ging. He’s a different breed altogether.”

“This Dark Continent expedition… is going to be fun.”

A smile crept across Pariston’s face. His body trembled slightly—but not from fear.

It was excitement.

In a way, Pariston and Hisoka were alike. But while Hisoka pursued the thrill of battle, Pariston sought the joy of strategy, of planning, of watching his schemes unfold. The stronger the opponent, the more exhilarating the game.

…………

…..

.

“Wendy, let’s head to the World Tree.”

“Okay.”

They went to the airship terminal, bought tickets, and waited for departure.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep