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'…' Thought
"…" speech
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Ging is a genius when it comes to Nen and fighting—there's no denying that. I can already tell that we're not on the same level. Even when it comes to planning, he's sharp. But his biggest flaw? It's not just his lack of common sense—though, trust me, that's a major issue. No, his real problem is his complete and utter disregard for consequences.
Most people have that little voice in their head that goes, "Hey, maybe don't do that because X, Y, and Z could go horribly wrong." Ging doesn't have that voice. Or if he does, he's got it tied up in a basement somewhere, duct-taped and ignored.
His brain works like this: "I have an idea." Then, instead of stopping to consider why it might be a bad one, he jumps straight to "Let's make reality even stupider!"
And because he's actually smart, he assumes he can just deal with whatever chaos follows. Which, in a way, makes him even dumber.
It's not that he's dumb, really. If anything, Ging is incredibly sharp—when he wants to be. The most accurate way to describe him is immature. He's instinct-driven, impulsive, and operates purely on vibes.
So, for an 11-year-old to somehow end up with a child? Even for Ging, that seems… excessive. Which means this has to be a prank.
But from who?
There's only one person I can think of who would pull off something this unreasonable and sit back to enjoy the chaos that follows—Chairman Netero.
The real question is… why would he do that?
So back to the situation at hand…
I sighed, pinched the bridge of my nose, and looked at Ging, who was grinning like he had just pulled off the best prank of his life. Which, technically, he had—except this time, he was the victim.
"Alright, fine," I said, stretching. "Let's meet your kid."
Ging blinked, surprised. "That's it? No yelling? No dramatic reaction? You're taking this really well."
"What do you want me to do? Flip the bed? Scream at the sky? Start drafting a custody battle?"
"…I mean, maybe a little panic would be nice?"
I stood up, walked to the door, then turned back to him. "Ging, I've known you long enough to be numb to your bullshit. If you told me you accidentally became the king of a small country, I'd just ask if they at least gave you a cool hat."
"That's fair," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "Alright, let's go."
We walked down the hall of our very expensive Sky Arena suite—because, hey, we were rich now—until Ging stopped in front of a door. He knocked once before pushing it open like he owned the place.
Inside sat a small girl, legs crossed on the bed, flipping through a magazine. She had blonde hair tied into twin buns, wore a pink dress that screamed 'princess' energy, and looked way too relaxed for a child who had just lost her father and gained a new one by accident.
She looked up at us. Specifically, she looked at me—then back at Ging.
"…That's the other one?" she asked, unimpressed.
"The other one?" I repeated. "Excuse me?"
Ging chuckled. "Yup. That's him."
The girl squinted at me. "Huh. Thought you'd be taller."
"I am taller than you."
"That doesn't count."
I turned to Ging. "So this is your kid?"
Ging grinned, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "Technically ours now, if you think about it."
"Ging, I swear to—"
"Relax, relax," he laughed, stepping away. "So, introductions! This is Biscuit Krueger, but she likes to be called Bisky."
Bisky hopped off the bed and gave a dramatic curtsy, like a noble lady in a fairytale. "Pleasure."
"…Likewise?"
Ging clapped his hands together. "Great! Now that that's settled, let's go eat. I'm starving."
I grabbed him by the back of his shirt before he could bolt. "Not settled. Ging, explain. Now."
Bisky sighed. "Ugh, you're really slow, huh?" She hopped back on the bed, stretching. "I was sent here by an old geezer to track down some rookie Hunters who caught his attention."
I narrowed my eyes. "Netero?"
"Ding ding ding, give the boy a prize."
Of course it was him.
She continued, "After watching you two for a bit, I figured the best way to get close was to mess with you a little. So I played helpless, played cute, and bam! Before Ging even knew what hit him, he handed me adoption papers."
I slowly turned to Ging. "So… you were tricked."
Ging crossed his arms. "In my defense, I was very drunk."
I looked back at Bisky. "And why exactly would Netero send someone to spy on us?"
Bisky smirked. "Why do you think? You're interesting. More than the usual rookies. He wanted to see what you'd do next. I just happened to be his eyes and ears."
Great. Fantastic. Not only did Netero have his eye on us, but now we had a tiny demon living with us.
I sighed. "Alright. So what now?"
Bisky shrugged. "That's up to you two. I was gonna stick around for a while anyway. Sky Arena seems fun."
Ging nodded. "Yeah, we're making good money, the food's great, and now we've got a kid. Feels like a family vacation."
"…We are eleven years old, Ging."
"Yeah, and?"
I rubbed my temples. "I need a nap."
Bisky grinned. "Too bad, because I wanna see how you two fight."
I groaned. This was gonna be a long week.
What followed was two weeks of… well, hell. Not the kind where you're constantly fighting for your life, but the kind where every muscle in your body feels like it's been through a meat grinder, and somehow, you still wake up for more.
Turns out, for all her quirks, Biscuit Krueger was no joke. She was probably in the top five best trainers in all of anime history—at least. Every single moment with her was a lesson, a correction, a brutal reality check, and occasionally, a well-placed punch to the gut if we slacked off.
And Ging? Oh, he suffered.
Before we even touched advanced Nen techniques, Bisky drilled us on the basics. No, really drilled us.
"Your fundamentals are crap," she said, arms crossed as she watched us struggle through our stances. "If I trained you properly from the start, you'd be at least twice as strong by now."
"Twice?" Ging whined. "Come on, we're already monsters for our age!"
She flicked his forehead so hard he stumbled back. "Exactly. Imagine what you'd be if you weren't lazy brats cutting corners!"
From there, it was nonstop: footwork drills, breathing exercises, meditation, reinforcing our aura flow, and, most importantly, control, the proper use of "gyo".
"You have more raw talent than most people I've trained," she admitted. "But talent without polish is like a diamond buried in the dirt. Useless."
I actually found the training helpful. Ging, on the other hand, was more focused on finding shortcuts to mastering it.
"Can't we just fight instead of sitting around doing breathing exercises?"
Bisky stomped on his foot. "You want to fight when your Hatsu isn't even fully developed yet? You'll end up like every other idiot who wasted their potential rushing in blindly!"
He groaned. "Okay, okay! Sheesh, no need to break my toes!"
Bisky smiled sweetly. "Oh, I barely even started breaking things."
That shut him up.
Once she was satisfied that we weren't completely incompetent, she introduced us to her Nen ability—Cookie.
With a dramatic flourish, she summoned her Conjured ability: Magical Esthetician.
A gigantic, pink, frilly-clad masseuse doll appeared behind her, radiating an almost holy aura.
"This is Cookie," Bisky said proudly. "She's a high-level Conjurer ability designed to maximize muscle recovery, eliminate fatigue, and—"
Ging immediately snorted. "Pfft! That's so lame."
Bisky's eye twitched. "Excuse me?"
"I mean, come on. A magic masseuse? All that training and this is what you came up with?"
I took a step back, already sensing the absolute beatdown incoming.
Sure enough, Bisky smiled—too sweetly.
"Oh, so you think it's useless?" she cooed.
Ging, lacking all survival instincts, nodded.
"Yeah! If I were a Conjurer, I'd make something cool! Like, I dunno, a Nen sword or a death laser—"
He didn't finish that sentence because Bisky punched him so hard his feet left the ground.
I winced as he crashed into a wall, groaning.
"Lesson one about Nen," Bisky said, dusting off her fists. "It's only useless if you're too stupid to understand how to use it."
Ging, face-down on the floor, mumbled something I assume was an apology.
After that, she explained how Cookie worked. It wasn't just a fancy healing ability—it actively optimized muscle growth, smoothed out aura flow, and increased recovery speeds beyond what normal healing could do.
In short, she wasn't just training us hard—she was making sure our bodies could handle it.
After witnessing its effects, I was impressed.
Ging, meanwhile, sulked. "Still looks dumb," he muttered.
He got punched again.
Once our foundation was solid, Bisky tailored the training to our individual strengths.
For me, it was all about control, precision, and maximizing efficiency. She drilled me on refining my aura, making it flow exactly how I wanted, rather than just relying on brute strength or instinct.
"You think fast, but your aura control lags behind your ideas," she pointed out. "You need to refine that before you start wasting energy on inefficient techniques."
Meanwhile, for Ging?
"You're stupidly talented," she admitted. "And stupidly reckless. You react purely on instinct, but without a strategy, you're just gambling on your own skill."
"So what?" Ging grinned. "Gambling's fun."
Bisky smiled. "Good thing I love crushing gamblers."
She spent the next week grinding every reckless habit out of him. Every time he tried to rush in, she countered. Every time he tried to be unpredictable, she was more unpredictable.
I'd never seen Ging so frustrated.
"I swear, she's reading my mind!"
"Nope," Bisky said cheerfully. "I'm just better than you."
By the end of two weeks, we were completely different fighters.
Our aura control was leagues above where we started, our stamina had shot through the roof, and for the first time in ever, Ging actually thought before throwing himself headfirst into a fight.
"Not bad," Bisky said, watching as we finished our final spar. "You two might not be completely hopeless after all."
"High praise coming from you," I muttered.
Ging wiped some sweat off his forehead. "So what now? Are you sticking around?"
Bisky smirked. "Nah. You two are fun, but I've got other things to do."
I frowned. "Wait, that's it? You trained us like crazy, nearly killed Ging a few times, and now you're just leaving?"
She shrugged. "What? You want me to hold your hand forever?"
I sighed. "Fair point."
Ging grinned. "Well, if you ever need me to adopt again, please consider where not to find me."
Bisky rolled her eyes. "As if I'd be dumb enough for letting you be responsible for something alive ."
And with that, she was gone, not before taking some gems that she made me buy for her .
…Well, technically, she vanished in a dramatic exit, but I was too tired to care.
I turned to Ging. "So. Thoughts?"
He stretched. "She definitely tried to kill me more times than necessary."
"You probably deserved it."
Ging sighed. "Yeah, probably."
And with that, we crashed.
Bisky had done her job. Now it was up to us to see how far we could take it.
….
Sitting in our ridiculously spacious room, sipping on overpriced juice, I decided to ask,
"Ging, you ever thought about becoming a Floor Master?"
He blinked at me over the rim of his glass. "Nah, not really. But it'd be nice to have a place to crash."
I sighed. "Your ambitions are truly inspiring."
"Hey, I'm just saying! What's the point? Bragging rights? More fights? I can do that already."
"True," I admitted. "But I'm going for it. Might as well see what it's like. Plus, the higher I go, the more Nen abilities I get to see. Could help you too—maybe you could learn simplified versions of them."
Ging tapped his chin. "That's actually smart. But now that we're talking about what to do, I think I wanna be more like Bisky."
I stared. "What, you suddenly wanna wear frilly dresses and pretend to be a kid forever?"
Ging scowled. "No, dumbass. I mean I wanna find random people to train. Who knows, maybe have them do stuff for me, you know—serious stuff."
I raised an eyebrow. "Serious stuff?"
"Yeah, like—" he waved his hand vaguely. "—training, missions, errands. Building an army of strong Nen users who owe me favors."
"That sounds both extremely practical and mildly villainous."
"Thanks."
I thought for a second. "Actually, now that you mention it, I'd like to make a school of sorts. I could use my Magical Compass to find talented young people, give them a simple course in Nen, and provide lodging, not gonna name it hogwart though"
"Oh! Then make me the Vice Principal!, no just give me a honorary title without actual things to do " Ging grinned. "OH but I want to make a game too, like that SAO anime you showed me but didn't like."
"You mean the 'if you die in the game, you die for real' thing?"
Ging huffed. "Don't say it like that. More like, making fantasy and reality collide, where you hunt monsters, do quest… make people busy while making me money"
"So basically, you do want a death game."
"No! Just... a high-risk experience."
I sighed. "We're gonna need a lot of funds for both projects, SO a school and a game?"
"Yeah. Let's make them on an island, a school inside a game and have your students intern for free labor."
I narrowed my eyes. "Already dodging responsibilities?"
"Duh. Told you before—I'm an idea man, not the never-gonna-give-you-up type."
I rolled my eyes. "Right. Anyway, we should talk about making money , How about betting. On the 200th floor, there's no prize money unless… we bet on each other."
"Why not just bet on ourselves?"
I stared at him. "Because that's illegal, dumbass."
Ging shrugged. "Details."
Days later
Ging and I walked toward the arena, chatting casually despite the fact that we were about to fight our way into the 200th floor.
"So, we need money, the a lot type"
"Obviously," Ging said, stretching his arms behind his head. "Not like we can build that school with just our charming personalities."
"Right. So here's the plan—you keep analyzing different Nen abilities, maybe even pick up a few simplified versions of them, while I create an app to track our finances and keep us from going broke."
Ging raised an eyebrow. "You? Keeping us from going broke?"
"Yes, dumbass. Someone has to be responsible. Plus, I'll look up available free islands on the Hunter website. There are bound to be a few spots nobody wants, right?"
"Smart." He grinned. "So we'll be busy. Fighting, training, making money… and maybe even developing some new abilities along the way."
"Exactly. Let's give ourselves a year to get everything in place. After that, we can focus on our long-term goals."
"I like it."
"Also," I added, giving him a sharp look, "send a letter to Auntie and Mito. I'm going to send one too."
Ging groaned. "Fine, fine. But if I get a lecture, I'm making you read it for me."
I smirked. "Deal."
We arrived at the arena entrance, stepping into the waiting area where our names were about to be called.
"Well," Ging cracked his knuckles, "time to make some cash."
"And some enemies."
"Eh, same thing."