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'…' Thought
"…" speech
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(in this novel hisoka and illumi and Chrollo are about the same age )
The Dawn of the Second Year
As the second year of Nova Academy approached, preparations were already in full swing.
The first major task? Sending out the letters.
This time, I expanded the selection pool. Instead of limiting it to a fresh batch of candidates, I sent out 1,200 invitations, including many who had declined the offer the previous year.
It didn't matter if they had refused once. Maybe their circumstances had changed. Maybe they had spent the past year regretting their decision.
Either way, the door was open once more.
The beauty of Nova Academy was that traditional grade levels didn't exist here.
There was no strict division of first-years, second-years, or seniors. Instead, the curriculum was progression-based.
Students advanced not by age, but by skill and understanding.
If someone excelled in physics but struggled in combat, they could take advanced theoretical courses while still training in basic self-defense.
If a student had spent their entire childhood in survivalist conditions and had the physical capabilities of a seasoned fighter, they wouldn't be forced to waste time on elementary conditioning. Instead, they would go straight to high-level training.
This meant that every student moved at their own pace.
A ten-year-old could be in the same class as a fifteen-year-old—not because one was a genius or the other a failure, but because each person developed differently.
This system ensured that no one was held back or rushed ahead unfairly.
It was efficient, practical, and completely unlike anything the outside world had ever seen.
Last year, 900 students had accepted.
This year, who knew how many would arrive?
With the island's infrastructure improved and the first batch of students now acting as mentors and guides, I was prepared for an even larger turnout.
Nova Academy wasn't just a school anymore. It was becoming a force of its own.
And I would make sure it thrived.
Young Illumi Zoldyck's POV: The Letter
Illumi sat alone in his room, staring at the letter on his desk.
The envelope was plain, the ink crisp, the handwriting unfamiliar. Yet, something about it made him uneasy.
He had received many letters in his life—missions, contracts, instructions—but never something like this.
An invitation.
The letter had appeared on his desk earlier that morning. No one had seen who delivered it. Not a single butler, not his mother, not even his father or grandfather.
That alone was concerning.
No one infiltrated Zoldyck Estate unnoticed.
Yet, here it was. A simple, unassuming letter that no one had sensed coming.
His fingers hovered over the seal before he carefully peeled it open.
Inside was a brochure—something almost childish in presentation. Moving images danced across the pages, showcasing a school, its vast halls filled with students training, learning, and fighting.
Then came the voice, smooth and composed.
"Welcome to Nova Academy, a place of knowledge, training, and opportunity."
Illumi's eyes narrowed as he watched the introduction unfold.
A young boy—likely the headmaster—spoke with confidence, claiming the school was an initiative of one-star hunters.
One-star hunters?
That was a title few received. And fewer still were worth acknowledging.
The projection continued, detailing courses in combat, survival, strategy, and even Nen.
Then came the final part:
"If you accept, simply say 'I accept' and touch this letter. You will be transported to the Academy on November 1st."
A portkey of sorts.
That alone meant whoever created this had a deep understanding of Nen and spatial manipulation.
Illumi closed the brochure. His heart didn't race, nor did his expression change, but his mind was calculating.
This was no ordinary letter.
He needed to consult his father.
The main hall of the mansion was quiet, save for the faint scratching of Silva's nails against the wooden armrest of his chair.
Illumi stood in front of his father and grandfather, the letter placed carefully on the table between them.
Silva picked it up first, inspecting it with a blank expression. He flipped it over, studying the seal, then opened it.
As soon as the moving images began to play, he passed it to Zeno.
The old assassin chuckled. "Hmph. Interesting."
Silva, however, remained silent.
Illumi spoke first. "No one noticed how it arrived."
That made both of them pause.
Zeno tapped his fingers against the wood. "That alone is impressive." His sharp eyes flickered toward his grandson. "You're considering going?"
"I want to know who sent it."
Silva leaned back, crossing his arms. "It's a school."
Illumi nodded. "One that trains assassins, hunters, and Nen users."
Zeno smirked. "If they're training assassins, why didn't they invite your father?"
Silva exhaled through his nose. "They're after younger talent."
There was another pause before Zeno finally stood up. "I'll speak to Netero."
Illumi watched as his father left the room, the letter still in his hand.
It seemed he wasn't the only one taking this seriously.
...…
Deep within the Hunter Association's headquarters, Zeno Zoldyck stood before Isaac Netero.
The old man leaned back in his chair, the letter twirling between his fingers.
"Heh." A grin tugged at Netero's lips. "So, the infamous Zoldyck family got one too?"
Zebo's eyes narrowed. "You know about this."
Netero nodded, tossing the letter onto his desk. "It's a bold move, that's for sure."
Zebo didn't respond, waiting.
Netero chuckled. "The headmaster's legit. One-star hunter. Kid's smart, resourceful, and knows what he's doing."
Zeno remained unmoved. "Who is he?"
Now, Netero's grin widened. "That would ruin the fun, wouldn't it?"
Zeno's gaze sharpened.
Netero waved him off. "Relax. It's not a trap. If anything, your kid might actually learn something there."
Zeno didn't move, but the weight of his silence spoke volumes.
After a moment, he picked up the letter and turned to leave.
Before he could, Netero added, "If he goes, tell him to keep an eye on the other students. There are some interesting ones in the mix."
Zeno paused at the door.
Then, without a word, he walked out.
Back at the mansion, Illumi awaited his father's verdict.
Would he allow it?
Would he refuse?
Silva simply handed the letter back to him and said, "Do as you see fit."
And that was how Illumi Zoldyck made his decision.
...…
Young Hisoka's POV: The Invitation
Hisoka sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of a dimly lit inn, flipping a playing card between his fingers. The faint scent of blood still lingered in the air from earlier—his last opponent had screamed beautifully before collapsing.
It had been a good day.
Then, without warning, something appeared before him.
A letter.
Hisoka's golden eyes flickered toward it, intrigued.
He hadn't heard anyone enter. Hadn't sensed anything.
Ooooh…
Now this was interesting.
With a lazy smirk, he reached out, plucking the envelope from where it lay. The paper was smooth, the seal unbroken. He turned it over in his hands, tilting his head as if listening to something only he could hear.
The edge of his lips curled. Whoever sent this had a nice little trick up their sleeve.
He tore it open.
Immediately, the brochure inside flickered to life, displaying a grand castle-like school, filled with students sparring, reading, and training. The moving images were crisp, their colors vibrant.
And then, a voice.
"Welcome to Nova Academy, a place of knowledge, training, and opportunity."
Hisoka's grin widened.
A school for fighters?
How delicious.
The projection continued, showing students learning combat, tactics, survival, and even Magic?
And then the final part:
"If you accept, simply say 'I accept' and touch this letter. You will be transported to the Academy on November 1st."
Hisoka chuckled, low and amused.
A portal invitation? Whoever designed this was confident.
More importantly, they were strong.
And that was all he needed to know.
He leaned back, tapping the letter against his lips.
A school full of young, ambitious, talented individuals…
People pushing themselves to be stronger…
Mmmm.
Hisoka loved fresh talent.
A place like this would be a feast.
But should he go?
Did he need training?
He was already exceptional. Already better than most of the weaklings he had encountered so far.
But if there were strong ones… if there were interesting ones…
His fingers curled around the letter.
He exhaled slowly.
Then, with a whisper:
"I accept."
And the moment he touched the paper—he disappeared.
...….
Young Tserriednich POV: The Second Invitation
Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou sat in his private study, legs crossed on a luxurious velvet chair, the dim glow of candlelight casting long shadows on the ornate walls.
The first time he received the letter, he had dismissed it.
A school? For training?
He had scoffed at the idea. He needed no schooling, no arbitrary rules or lessons from unknown fools who presumed they could teach a prince anything of value.
But Tubeppa…
She had gone.
His younger sister, always fascinated with progress and learning, had accepted the invitation without hesitation. He had watched as she vanished upon touching the letter, disappearing into nothingness.
It had been fascinating.
The technology—if that was what it was—had intrigued him more than anything else. A teleportation device that left no trace? That level of Magical control, the precision… It wasn't something he could simply dismiss.
Still, he had waited.
Observing.
Listening.
And now, a year later, the letter had come again.
This time, he didn't scoff.
This time, he picked it up.
The wax seal was pristine, unbroken. His fingers ran along the edges, feeling the faint energy lingering beneath the surface.
A message played again, showing the school, its students, the progress they made.
Tserriednich's sharp violet eyes scanned the projection.
A castle.
A structured hierarchy.
Powerful individuals gathering in one place.
The promise of growth.
He leaned back in his chair, silent.
It was… alluring.
Not in the sense that he needed guidance—he was a prince of Kakin, his mind sharper than most, his ambitions far beyond the petty dreams of commoners. But…
If a place like this existed, hidden from the eyes of the world… he wanted to know everything about it.
Tubeppa had returned from her time there—changed.
Stronger.
And most interestingly, unwilling to speak too much about it.
That made him want to pry.
To see.
To understand.
If this was a place that created monsters, then surely, someone like him should be there.
A thin smirk curled at his lips.
"I accept."
And in an instant—he was gone.
...….
The Second-Year Opening Ceremony
The grand hall of Nova Academy was bathed in the soft glow of enchanted chandeliers, casting a warm, welcoming light over the gathering students. The long tables were filled with familiar faces from the previous year, now a bit taller, more confident, and undeniably more comfortable in their environment.
Compared to last year's chaos, the atmosphere was vastly different. Gone were the nervous glances, the uncertainty, the subtle wariness. This time, the returning students greeted each other with excitement, exchanging stories from their time away—some had trained relentlessly, others had explored the island, and a few had even returned home to impress their families with newfound skills.
At the head of the hall, I sat in my usual chair, Kirlia by my side, its red eyes scanning the crowd with interest. Ging, of course, was nowhere to be found—a fact that didn't even surprise me anymore. He had vanished again, chasing another one of his ideas, probably somewhere exotic, dangerous, and utterly inconvenient.
Instead, I had Cheadle and Biscuit sitting near me, both having taken an interest in watching the school's progress.
Biscuit's sharp eyes flicked over the students, nodding in approval. "They look much more at ease this year."
"Of course they do," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Last year, they thought they might get kidnapped, experimented on, or thrown into a survival test. Now they know all they have to do is survive the classes."
Cheadle hummed in agreement, adjusting her glasses. "It's a good sign. It means the school has successfully built its foundation. They feel like they belong now."
The students continued chatting animatedly, some waving at the first-years who looked around in awe, much like they had last year. The difference was stark—instead of tension, there was a sense of anticipation, of shared experience, of community.
Across the hall, I spotted familiar faces among the crowd.
Chrollo
Chrollo sat calmly at one of the tables, a book already in hand, though he wasn't reading it just yet. He observed the room, watching how the dynamics had shifted. Last year, everything had been unknown—a mystery to solve, a system to dissect.
Now, he was part of it.
He had spent the previous year learning, gathering knowledge like a thief collecting treasures, and now he was beginning to piece everything together. This school held potential, power, and secrets.
And Chrollo loved secrets.
Morena
Morena leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on her face. Something was different this year.
Last year, she had been skeptical—convinced that this was just another system designed to control people, to shape them into tools for society.
But watching the first-years enter, seeing the way the older students welcomed them, something gnawed at her.
There was no fear in their eyes.
No desperation.
No resentment.
They were happy.
She almost hated how much that bothered her.
Maybe this world doesn't need to be burned down after all.
Maybe… just reshaped.
Mito
Mito had grown so much in just a year. She sat beside Sambica, both of them engaged in a quiet conversation. Last year, she had been shy, uncertain, feeling out of place in a school built by her reckless cousin.
Now, she belonged.
She was on the student council. She had friends. She had responsibilities.
And… she had power.
She hadn't yet reached the level to learn Nen, but she was getting closer, and that meant something.
Sambica
Sambica was smiling.
She had always been kind, but now she was confident. She helped some of the younger first-years find their way to their seats, offering explanations about how things worked in the school.
Unlike many of the others, she hadn't come to Nova for power.
She came for purpose.
And she had found it.
Illumi
Across the hall, another first-year sat quietly at the end of a table.
Illumi Zoldyck.
He wasn't talking. He wasn't smiling. He was watching.
His father had sent him here for a reason—to observe, to evaluate. And as he scanned the room, he noted something he hadn't expected.
The students weren't just students.
They were actually talented.
And that interested him.
...….
The Ceremony Begins
I stood up, letting my chair scrape against the floor just loud enough to catch everyone's attention. Silence fell instantly.
Good. They were well-trained.
"Welcome back," I said, surveying the crowd. "And for the first-years, welcome to Nova Academy."
A murmur of excitement passed through the hall.
"You all know why you're here. Whether it's to train, to learn, or simply to learn how to survive, you've chosen to be part of this school. And this year, we're pushing further. Harder."
Some students straightened at that.
"The rules remain the same," I continued. "Train. Grow. Improve. The stronger you get, the more opportunities open for you."
I gestured toward the older students. "Last year, many of you barely understood how things worked. Now, look at you—leaders, scheamers, mentors."
I smirked. "So this year, I have higher expectations."
A few groans echoed from the crowd.
"But don't worry," I said, leaning forward slightly. "We've also made a few… improvements."
Excited whispers broke out.
"There's a new training ground for those who reach the 50PL threshold. The library has expanded, with even more restricted knowledge for those who earn access. And…" I let the words hang for a second, watching their anticipation grow.
"We have a Pokémon arena now."
The entire hall erupted into cheers.
Even the first-years, confused but excited, couldn't help but get swept up in the energy.
With that, I officially opened the second year.
And judging by the energy in the room?
This year was going to be even more interesting than the first.