A few hours later, Ron and the others arrived at the shoreline. The sky stretched overhead in a clear, endless blue. The ocean mirrored it perfectly—blue waves rolling gently under a light breeze. The sand was white, fine, and clean, the kind that stuck softly to your shoes but not your skin. A faint, salty wind blew across the coast.

The humanoid young man stared out at the sea, expression distant, lost in thought. Ron didn’t speak or interrupt. He simply stood quietly, waiting. Only after a long while did the young man finally return to himself. He pulled out a music box and pressed play.

Surprisingly, despite having been buried in trash for so long, the music box still worked.

A gentle melody filled the air.

And as the sound played, a visual projection appeared in front of them—almost like a three-dimensional hologram.

The scene showed a boy walking down a street in poor condition, disheveled and hollow-eyed. His expression was listless, and his appearance gave off the sense of someone who had just begun to dream, only to have that dream cruelly crushed and trampled.

The sky was dark. A light drizzle fell, pattering softly as the boy walked faster. It was then that a discarded robot, tossed into a nearby pile of garbage, entered his line of sight.

It was labeled as Unit 03. Though damaged and malfunctioning, it wasn’t completely broken—but had still been thrown away, abandoned.

The boy stared at the robot. It clearly reminded him of himself.

After hesitating for a few seconds, he carried it home.

He spent what little money he had left to repair it.

Perhaps in gratitude, the robot tried its hardest to help the boy—cooking, washing, managing finances. It did everything it possibly could, even attempting things far beyond its capacity. It didn’t always do a great job, and problems remained. Some systems were still faulty. But it kept trying.

Though only a machine, the robot seemed to possess genuine, human-like emotions. It was, in a way, purer than most humans.

Watching the scene, Ron felt a strange sense of familiarity. It tugged at something in the back of his memory.

Then he recalled where he’d seen it before—this storyline matched almost exactly with a work he’d encountered in his past life, titled The Broken Music Box.

The scene continued.

The robot eventually discovered the reason for the boy’s despair—he had left his musical group after a major setback.

From that day forward, the robot began practicing the same song, trying to learn it.

But the robot’s body was too damaged. The parts inside were too old.

Near the end of its life, the robot pleaded with the boy to take it to the sea.

The boy played his guitar, and the robot sang quietly beside him.

They sat together at the seaside.

And then, the robot died.

The boy took the robot’s core and turned it into a music box.

Even though he had seen a version of this story before, Ron still felt something heavy settle in his chest. The emotional weight hadn’t changed.

When he looked back, he noticed that Misty and Ponzu both had red-rimmed eyes. Even Machi, who rarely showed much emotion, had fallen silent, seemingly pulled into her own memories.

The music came to an end.

The projection faded.

The young man turned to Ron and said softly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Just as Ron was about to ask whether they could be taken to the Dark Continent, the young man’s body began to blur and fade.

Bang!

The music box hit the ground.

Crack!

At the exact moment the youth vanished completely, the music box began to change. Its structure morphed like a transforming machine, expanding and unfolding in ways that violated the logic of physical volume.

That tiny music box suddenly grew into a full-sized robot girl—matching the one from the earlier projection in every detail.

“Hello, I’m Hana.”

The robot girl turned to Ron. “Thank you for helping me fulfill my wish. You’re heading to the Dark Continent, right? I can take two people there.”

“When the time comes, just return to the place where we met earlier. I’ll take you there.”

The sudden transformation startled Ron slightly—but only for a moment.

“Alright,” he said calmly.

With that, Ron led Misty and the others away.

The robot girl’s body vanished. On the ground, only a few footprints remained in the sand.

The emotional weight left behind by the projection had mostly dissipated, replaced by curiosity and surprise at the robot’s transformation. None of them dwelled on the scene any longer.

The true gatekeeper had been the robot girl—not the young man. He was merely a construct she had created.

“The concept of a gatekeeper is more interesting than I expected,” Ron muttered, shaking his head.

“Ponzu, any progress on the second gatekeeper?” he asked.

“Already found,” Ponzu replied with a nod. “The bees never stopped searching. We’ve located three total, but one of them’s already been found and activated by someone else.”

“Then we’ll split up,” Ron said. “Ponzu, you’re with me. Machi, Misty—you two team up. Use your cards to stay in contact.”

Misty and Machi exchanged a quick glance and nodded.

It was a logical formation. Ron was the strongest among them, and Ponzu had the weakest direct combat power. Putting the two together ensured her safety.

Machi and Misty were both A-rank Nen users. They had undergone special training on the Black Whale and even hired Phantom Troupe members as sparring partners. Among A-rank fighters, they were near the top. Even in dangerous situations, they could hold their own. Most other Black Whale passengers posed no threat to them—except for a few top-tier individuals like Hisoka, Chrollo, or Pariston.

But even those three couldn’t take down Machi and Misty in seconds. That gave the two enough time to transmit information, if necessary.

And once a message got out, Ron could use Acompany to arrive instantly.

“Ponzu, where are the two gatekeepers located?”

Ponzu looked down at the radar in her hand. “One’s southwest at a bearing of twenty degrees, about twenty-six kilometers out. The other’s northwest at thirty degrees, around ten kilometers away.”

Ron nodded. “Machi, Misty—you take the one to the northwest.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Got it, big brother.”

The group split up.

Ron had assessed the difficulty and risk of the tasks and made the call accordingly. He also had a private agreement with Mizaisstorm. He had no intention of exploiting it unfairly, but neither would he let himself get shortchanged. Once he delivered the number of gatekeepers Mizaisstorm required, he would head to the Dark Continent himself.

Which meant he didn’t want to waste time.

Splitting up was more efficient.

There was also the matter of the Observation Hatsu. Ideally, Ron wanted to absorb some traits from the gatekeepers and use them to create new Nen beasts. That was part of his larger plan.

Soon, he and Ponzu approached a ruined structure that came into view ahead.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep