The pink bud of a Hibiscus burst from a crack in the cement that formed during winter. The rainstorm that developed initiated numerous reactions. Spreading its leaves to catch the falling water, the greens quenched themselves, the people squeaked for cover, and rain water smashed against the ceiling of an abandoned warehouse. Yet the one boy in the aforementioned building remained oblivious to it all. The warehouse was the best he could do for shelter without spending any cash. This weather did nothing to help him subdue the memories of his doomed aunt.

"Gon Freecss."

He nearly cursed when he made an amateur mistake, giving a fresh blue cut to the mirror from the laser. Bringing the lens away from the microscope, a long sigh escaped when all the glass did was shatter into a million pieces just seconds after. His specialty was supposed to be inventing yet what he had accomplished in the latest fractions of his life was akin to moving a single centimetre on the dirt road when in a cross country race. Almost all of his remaining money already went to the miniscule amount of equipment in front of him. Gon buried his head in his hands. Soon enough, his tired self slumped. It was moments when he stopped thinking that his mind wandered back to that bloody day of Milluki's death.

Gon usually prided himself in having a bad memory but that moment would flash before his eyes every opportunity it had. A bright light; it took him a while to realize it was lightning, flashed before him and suddenly he saw himself racing back to the rooftop in any hope that those men would wait for him; that Mito may have still been alive. All that met him was an empty train station. Disbelieving, jaded feet sprinted back to Milluki's apartment right after for any clues on where they could have gone. The muscles in his thighs bled. His optimism nearly killed him. Obviously, when he finally made it back the whole building was in flames. Firefighters rushed past. The onlookers of York New stared in awe. Everything Gon owned was burnt to a crisp; everything but Gyo, the cash from his last paycheck, and the clothes on his back which were, not so coincidentally, the only things he brought with him.

"Gon Freecss."

Since then, Gon refused to book a room. The grief-stricken boy had punched a few walls. He kicked a puddle at anyone who his delusional vision saw as even resembling a short fat man with facial hair. Frankly, the boy lost it and screamed. Everything was just gone. He had to take out his anger on something. That's when it hit. Again, his optimism killed him. What if Mito wasn't dead yet? Those men wouldn't just dispose of her if they wanted to recruit him. That must've been it.

This train of thought was what convinced him. At first he had rampaged deserted streets in search for revenge. He was Gon after all. When he has asked, downright demanded people of what they knew of a mafia family, all he found out was that yesterday had been the last day of the worldwide auction and whichever family he was looking for was long gone. He searched any car that passed for days and found nothing.

That was when a highly glitched plan formed in his head. He needed weapons, more inventions to find and bust in, the bigger the explosion the better. The greater and more people it killed, the more confidence. The first step was to improve his Gyo, which was what he was doing right now, so then he could use them to find their base. Once there, he would massacre everyone who had to do with it. One punch, a stab would do it.

Mito would be safe and never will his bloody hands be clean again; just the way he wants it.

"Gon Fre-"

"Move that box in the corner to Bull Market, then Ringon Airport," Gon snapped as he swept the glass with a narcoleptic flick of the wrist. "Turn around and walk back to Bull Market with it. Do that about twenty times, okay?"

After that, Gon registered the distinct rummaging sound of cardboard being dragged across the floor behind him. When he was heating up a new portion of glass, the door banged on the other side of the room and he once more found himself alone. Only a minute later, he slammed his head against the desk, letting out a childish groan. It felt like he hit rock bottom. Both his mood and personality turned so bitter so quickly. He had no idea how to act around Killua anymore.

The robot that seemed now to never say anything but Gon's name had followed him like a puppy, a murderous cold puppy who gave empty stares. He would insistently say his name in infinite loop until the master would give him instructions to do; probably something to do with how he was programmed. It was as if he was reverted to a Pokémon. Now you would think each time it was said would be different; only, no. Killua spurted that one phrase with that same casual tone, that same note on the piano, and with that same twitching of the nerves without fail. Killua could be told to do anything without complaint. That ranged from ridiculous meticulous things to the most heinous of actions.

Gon wasn't oblivious to the concept of robots; he was an inventor after all. There were two main categories of robots in their world. The first was a love bot, a revolutionary invention that can eat, sleep, and feel love and pain just as any other human could do. Their one downfall was just that, they had no special capabilities past what humans could do. The difference was they would do anything you wanted. As a result, they were usually the object of lust or lonely widows who decided a house full of cats was not enough. That was the type of robot Mito probably intended for him to have. Gon didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or chug down a bottle of ketchup to rid himself of the thought.

The second was more widely known in the mafia, the battle robots. Battle robots, on the other hand, possessed super human powers but no emotion or heart. He recalled once when he was twelve, he watched a documentary where a man took apart a battle robot, only to reach the chest and point out a vacant black spot where the heart should be. The picture still sent shivers down his spine, which was a hard thing to do.

In order to promote variety, there were many models for each category. Gon could only conclude that Killua X27 was one of them. Possibly some model which was either new or used by a previous family that needed some jobs done that involved murder or treason. It was like night and day in the way love robots and battle robots were designed. There was no possible way to make them any more different than they were. But, there was one single attribute, aside from being artificial, that convinced humans to categorize these two polar opposites under the same concept.

Neither had a free will.

Gon clenched his fists. He refused to ever use one to help avenge Mito. Ironically, he knew that if he just rid himself of his damn pride, one battle robot would be enough to take care of the job. But, once more, he was Gon. Robots were incapable of having any emotion and all they could do was take orders. They felt no love aimed at them. Despite being an inventor, he knew little of a robot's blueprints aside from trivial information. The sheer amount of data a chip needed to hold to have one single robot both be able to love and fight was out of comprehension. These killing machines were like a computer for cowards to use.

Of course, through all deities which drove Gon's person, he knew it was dumb to believe things without any strong feeling towards it. At most the opinion should be a casual picking. Never should he let other people tell him what to do-and here, the boy cringed. Another memory, this time from five years ago, flashed in his mind as the lightning picked up once more.

"I found him in the dump! He's my second best friend. Don't worry, you're still my best-ie."

"Others think he's scary but I think he has a good look in his eyes, right?"

And his own experiences burned from within him a deep rage. Before Gon knew it, the glass cracked in his hands. So stiff, they failed to let go in time before the edge drove deep into his right palm. Bright red liquid spilled out, latching to the table. His thumb flinched but otherwise, he didn't react at all. Gon stared at the blood. All he could see was this blood leaking from Mito's cranium, the blood flowing out of Wing's stomach, and now redness staining his own jacket sleeve.

A wet cloth suddenly blocked his vision. Gon snapped out of it.

It was only then he realized he had been gawking at his own wound for an hour and Killua had returned from his goose chase. Those pale fingers slowly pried his own tan fist open to dab at the dried blood. The glass pieces in his palm fell to the floor with a clang. When every inch from his wrist to fingertips was clean, Gon felt a second cloth being wrapped between his thumb and index to the other side of his hand in a firm knot.

Then, the robot went back to his corner as if nothing had happened.

In a daze, Gon slowly picked up the shards off the floor. The black-haired boy was slipping back in his chair when Killua resumed looping that same mp3 clip of his name in what was a sharp steadily emotionless voice. This time, the inventor ignored it. As the day wore away and Gon lay on the cold floor, resting for the first time since that horrible event, one final thought crossed his mind just as he gave away to sleep.

'I didn't order him to do that…'

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

It was only a matter of time before that run down warehouse collapsed one humid evening. Luckily, both he and Killua escaped unscathed from the debris. Half of that was due to the fact that neither of them was sleeping at the time. The robot's battery life allowed him to stand guard without falter for five days straight. Gon mused on how his reason wasn't that easy. Of course, he could always blame the wind on this particularly fierce night. The force driving against a squeaky hinge above their windows would keep anyone awake. But the thoughts clouding his usually simple mind muffled all noises. All of it was too foreign to him, the strange sounds not helping. Sapphire blue blinked in rhythm with honey brown, almost glowing in the dark of the night.

Oh, if only Killua were asleep, Gon could maybe occupy his time with shameless ogling. But the other stared at his master so intently that Gon felt metaphorical holes burned into his nose and was forced to turn his back on him. He had no room in his head before or now to deny it; he did find Killua attractive. It was a passing attraction; nothing like the pure love he was sure he felt for that angel the other night.

Gon sighed. Both of them were distant despite living together. It was the first time he was stumped on what to do. Speaking of stumps, he saw a nice one outside of an old granny smith apple tree. Without question, his thoughts wandered to his lunch that day. So lost, his sensitive ears did not notice how the wind picked up until it was too late. That was when they heard the cracks.

Stranded at the edge of the city with winds picking up, Gon finally concluded; he needed a job. Not the job he's been doing this whole time or those ones where you'd have to pass a silver coin to get through, but a nice honest place to kick start whatever resemblance of a normal life he had left. Perhaps he could even enroll in a school for his senior year. He would be ordinary for however long it took him to find that mafia family. Then, he'd forever be sunk back into darkness.

It was the least he could do for Mito.

Gon had the perfect job in mind. It was offered in a city which resided in a desert a little ways away, but could be reached by subway then train and offered a lot more money than the minimum wage jobs at York New. He didn't want to leave the city where the short mustache man was last seen. Those people were probably thousands of miles away by now though. He picked his backpack filled with things he managed to save while running, his glasses being one of them, and left.

The two stepped onto the quickly crowding subway car. Locating the closest seat, Gon tiredly plopped down on the red velvet. He had been sitting on cement and tile all day that the cloth was heaven to him. The boy had yawned loudly, drew a potted flower on the fogged windows, and cracked his right index knuckle before noticing that the robot was still standing there. Right against the yellow line and on the edge of activating some sensor that would've alert him to move, Killua almost looked unsure.

Just as the doors opened to a new stop, Gon patted the seat beside him. Almost like some switch had been flicked, Killua was back to his mechanic self as he marched to the seat next to him. The transformation was to the point that Gon was nearly positive that the previous demeanor was just his imagination. A minute later and no one made a sound. The unusual silence pierced through the inventor's ears.

It took another minute for Gon to realize why it was so silent. The entire car was staring at them or, more precisely, at Killua in some form of awe. He couldn't completely blame them. Killua's once in a century silver-white hair and deep blue eyes would attract attention anywhere, but this was the first time the two had gone out in public. With his slim pale body and delicate features, it didn't take long for the whispers to grow. Innocent middle scholars giggled, a shy boy across from them blushed, only the one granny on board managed to look away in favor of the scarf she was knitting in her lap. Some men in their twenties and thirties were not so subtle. Gon twitched when a large portion of those stares reverted to voyeurism. The robot had been reduced to some freak show. Gon didn't like that.

Finally, the spiked boy grinned at all of them. "Ne Killua, when do you want to book our wedding?" Gon motioned to the scribbles on the window written in hexadecimal code.

'What is the month of your creation?'

Killua looked away. "…July."

It was the first time Gon heard a voice which was not pre-recorded. "I see."

And that shut everyone up. Now they directed their gawks at Gon, emotions twisted into disgust, remorse, or whatever. Gon didn't mind. It was much better than what was happening before. When he could help it, he preferred when people accepted him but if those people happened to be jerks then that was a whole other story. With a satisfaction which fed off the atmosphere, Gon reached into his backpack to pull out a mechanics report and flipped to his last bookmarked page. It was haggard but lent from an acquaintance.

So caught in his reading, he failed to notice the glance his seatmate gifted him every few minutes. A whole six hours later and nearly everyone else in the car had filed out at some point. That was when strangely, Killua decided to speak first.

"Destination…?"

Gon's lips twitched downward. "We're almost at the stop then we'll have to go on a train. The town doesn't have a name." The paper rustled in his lap as he turned his attention away from the text.

"Searching reference files…negative. No town without a name found on the map."

"Stop talking like that." When Killua didn't respond, the spiked boy sighed in apology. They were both worn out. Gon could only wish he were as bouncing and positive as he was when twelve. He never believed Mito when she said he simply changed too much. Now, Gon was beginning to feel the effects. For the past few weeks, no part of him thrived off communication, not even a meeting of the eyes, before he went back into his demented bubble. No wonder this wasn't going well. But wait, why did he even care? This was a battle robot; the same species which-

Gon stopped himself there. He didn't need to remember unnecessary things.

The boy had pride in being stubborn. That was one thing that never changed. Yet now he could sort of see how their rocky relationship was probably his fault. With this new discovery, a strange burst of energy lifted his spirits. Suddenly, Gon knew what to do once more. He turned to Killua.

"My friend lives there. He's the one who offered me a place to stay and a job if I ever had no place left to go." A genuine smile found its way to his face. Somehow it didn't hurt. "He's really rowdy and got in a fight with the aristocrats about the name. Pietro-san always went on about how he represented the rustics. In the end he decided to keep the town nameless since it's special…how cool is that?" The boy allowed a sheepish grin which made Killua's eyes widen. This was the most he'd said since they met and relief washed over him. "The town has lots of places to sight see and nice people! I think you'll like it."

"Your model Killua X27 is not-" the robot cut off the audio, still in a daze. Only after would he realize his mistake. "I…can't like things."

Gon placed a finger on his chin in thought. An idea popped into his head. "Do you like chocolate?"

"Killua X27 does not require consumption of vitamins or medication for nutritional value. Please read section 7.1 part b of the manual to receive further instructions. The operator will now proceed to explain. His circuits are powered by lack of movement which initiates the state of Brownian motion behind the eyelids-" Gon decided to tune him out after that. It may have seemed insignificant to anyone else. However to him, having Killua utter one sentence of his own free will was an astronomical start. And now, all he'd have to do was prove that he can like something.

After all, who doesn't like chocolate?

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

The train rolled behind, leaving a dust cloud to bask in his airways as Gon quite fervently fanned the sand away from his eyes. After having slept against a pillar last night and then being forced to sit on a mass of coal in the back cart with no food service, most people would've collapsed in exhaustion. Their lack of rest and eating had scared a few of the assistants on the vehicle. Gon assured them it was fine and made a few friends; something he hadn't done in a long time. It was sad to let them go so abruptly but he had a stop to get off on.

What awaited him should have been fountains of riches piled into streets of silver and white, women dressed in full dated dresses far too inconvenient to saunter in and puppies groomed to perfection. Instead, there was more sand. Half crumpled buildings covered in it provided what little shade for men in ragged undershirts sweating under the sunlight while mining or digging up water. Several structures lay half fallen. Some were cracked and the remnants of intricate wallpaper were exposed. Gon stared wide eyed.

"Wh-What happened? I mean…" He was speechless. That rarely happened. This town used to be the central meeting ground of rich folks. The two made their way down the hard sidewalk littered with urine. Some women with beards which reached their stomachs bore enviously at Gon and Killua's average though by their standards luxury clothes. The two turned into an empty street. At closer inspection near a dark alleyway those men appeared to be digging for something not so innocent as water. As soon as Gon saw the arm of a corpse stick out from the sand though, one burly man ushered them away quite violently. "And don't ever come back!" He spat at their feet shamelessly.

"Okay, see you then…or not." Gon waved unfazed but still confused. This didn't make sense. Why would everyone be burying dead bodies? It would make sense if they were meant as burial grounds but counting by the color of the arm, that person had been dead for a very long time.

Particularly perplexed, he wheel around a corner and was caught off guard. He collided right into a disordered man, sending all of the other's heavy belongings to the ground. "Wah…!" Gon registered the feeling of his body falling backwards. The consequences of the exchange had been mutual. The much shorter unfocused boy nearly came crashing down if not suddenly, two strong arms latched onto his shoulders.

Gon looked up to meet sapphire eyes. "Ah sorry, thank you!" It was such an ungraceful mistake for a guy who could beat a swarm of mafia.

"Clumsy id-" Killua stopped. He pushed him on his feet. "…Restrain your pleasantries."

Gon had no time to retort when the one who had dashed into him snarled. "Watch where you're going, kid! I got no time to be running into brats like you."

There was no point starting a fight. He bowed. "Sorry, mister….I'll help you pick up everything."

"Hmph, sure." Well that was easy. This strange man had lots of unusual contraptions littered on the floor, most Gon wouldn't expect to see from what seemed to be reduced to a poor backwater town. In fact, a lot of these were machine parts. His inventor mind ran wild. This screw would've been perfect for building a cannon and another metal container for a rifle; there was even a bomb in this one bag-

Here Gon drew back. The sack was snatched from his hands. Some part of his mind registered Killua chucking the item thirty feet in the air and striking it with lightning ejected from his fingertips. It immediately exploded above their heads, not too large of a bomb but definitely enough to kill. That's when Gon realized it was set to go off in mere seconds. His head shot back to see the robot holding the man at claw point.

"If you traitor, do not coincide with my master's wishes, I will be forced to behead you." To have such a specific statement pre-recorded; Gon had to wonder just how many bad things Killua had seen.

The man squeaked at first, sweating a fountain partly due to the heat but that didn't seem to stop his mouth. Those features, there was no mistaking it. "Y-You're a Killua model."

"Wrong answer-"

"Let him go, Killua." Gon interjected.

The man fell to his feet gasping for air. Right as his cheeks returned to normal colour, he was left under the deadly gaze of the killing machine. "L-Look, brat…! That bomb was for my job. That's why I was hurrying so much you know. Th-Those guys don't trust me so they start the timer before handing it to me just to see how fast I can run. It's some messed up ritual for them to claim this territory. I didn't mean to threaten your master or whatever!" He held up his hands and the other human's gaze softened.

"Is your job the mafia?" The man froze; bull's eye. Gon deflated at this. Now it made sense. The mafia must have done something to this once peaceful place. That also explained why no one seemed to bat an eye at the explosion just now. "Hm…just promise not to tell anyone that we're here, okay mister?" He seemed to hesitate in thought but eventually let out an earnest nod that made Killua narrow his eyes even as he watched him embrace Gon in gratefulness, gather his bags and scamper off.

"Not lying…but not the truth either."

Gon smiled sadly. "I know."

They continued on their way despite the near death experience. Further down the street was that old candy shop with the best cocoa beans in the world which used to be Gon's favorite. It was still there. A star shaped chocolate the size of Gon's eye was on display for a whopping thirty dollars. Immediately the boy shook his head. He'd have to get the chocolate elsewhere. Killua wasn't so quick to move on. He stared at the treat in what seemed to be bewilderment, quickly forgetting what happened earlier. Seeing this, Gon gave in. He told Killua to wait outside because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Surprisingly, the inside of the shop hadn't changed much. The checkered floors and tattered billboard shaped as a Toucan with a lollipop were still where he remembered. Unlike the other shops, Gon peered around in slight awe. This new owner thankfully had time to clean as well as they could. At the sound of the rusted bell of a customer, a chubby woman rushed out. She had cucumbers on her eyes and looked to be in the middle of a facial due to lack of business. "Y-Yes, sir…! What would you like?" The cucumbers slid off. Her eyes shined slightly. Gon wasn't bad looking. She always wanted a handsome boy as a son.

Noticing the woman's state, Gon sympathetically smiled back. "Which chocolate is the best here?" Just as he predicted, she pointed out the little star on display before offering cheaper varieties if it was too much. This lady really was trying her best. Gon shook his head, asking for a new star chocolate wrapped in a silver and blue box for safe keeping. After all, the box was nice and cost next to nothing.

"Oh, for your girlfriend?" She winked.

Gon sweat dropped. "Not really…"

When the transaction was complete, Gon for a moment considered how much it looked like he was going to propose to someone with the size of the treat. He shrugged it off, laughing. Marrying someone while being offered chocolate did sound like fun. It had been so long since he last went out in daylight to shop, take a walk, eat treats, or do anything. So far, he was having fun. This was despite the town's state and resulting overwhelming pressure of doom looming over him. It was weird. He still wanted to smile past all that. Opening the door, he spared a second to wave enthusiastically before leaving the store and walking to the window.

The inventor's head whirled around. Killua was nowhere to be seen. That was so unlike him what with his follow master's orders this and I'm too stingy to talk normally that. The smell of rotting corpses cut off any of that sweet ocean scent Killua somehow seemed to have. Did he wander off? It was possible. As he took radial steps around the corners of the building, something in Gon's gut told him he was direly wrong. His puzzled mind resorted to listening in on any unusual sounds. Instead, they picked up muffled cries.

His heroic instincts instantly kicked in. Killua could take care of himself but whoever this was would be helpless. Down a jaded path, through a once bustling abandoned restaurant and through an alley the width of a head and a half, Gon ran towards the cry after pocketing the chocolate. Sometime in the restaurant a wooden pole used to hold up a sign blocked his path. He ripped it from its hole in the ground and tied it to his back with a table cloth. The inventor had grown a fondness for the weapon. Peering around a barrel, he halted just in time to watch without being seen. This was the same place that he had bumped into the man with the bomb earlier.

"Do you have the money or NOT?!" It was an ape-like man with a buzz cut. Another was behind him but adorned lanky arms and earlobes which stretched to his elbows. A much more delicate figure in a cloak sat folded in the corner, nursing oil which leaked from his arm in continuous droplets. It didn't seem to bother them other than that. Gon looked on gravely; that person must've been a robot too.

"I-I told you…he s-said we're running short on cash this month and…" Gon blinked again, something in that voice was familiar to his sensitive ears. Yet, Gon found it difficult to concentrate on it for the feeble voice grew meeker with each word.

The cornered boy kept his eyes to the floor. These two men were new to the business so this was his first time dealing with them. "He said he wanted the weapons for a dis-c-count, I mean, I um…please?"

The one with burly arms snorted. "Ah, so this is why those other guys always came back with half the money when they were in this area! All this time they were being seduced by some slut. Look kid, we don't want no sex. We just want full price for these flamethrowers you're buyin' or no sale!"

The timid figure blushed red and looked to the bleeding puddle. "P-please, if not sex th-then…I'll do anything else! This is all the money I-I have." What answered was an aggressive punch to the cheek which stung his senses and buckled his teeth. Gon's breath hitched. The hood of the cloak whipped off to reveal snow white hair.

Before the body even hit the ground, even before any of them could blink, the spiked boy had rushed in and decked the first man across the face. The lanky accomplice recoiled in shock. "What the-!" Gon tipped the pole attached to his back so it lay on his shoulder and the opposite end did an effective uppercut on Mr. Earlobes' chin, knocking him out just as quickly. Gon immediately turned to the fallen angel and was met with two fiery orange eyes staring back up at him in shock.

Feeling great happiness at seeing this delicate person again, the inventor let out a small grin. "Are you okay?" He offered a hand but it was ignored. Instead the robot rose to his feet while nervously brushing his long silver bangs to cover his face. He must not like people seeing his face. But I can't imagine why. Gon mused. He snapped out of his thoughts when the other took a frantic step back to eye the inventor in awe. Oh, he must recognize me. And that filled Gon's chest with a strange flighty glow.

"I-I-I'm f-fine. Th-Thank you-u." The angel in his eyes stuttered even more than usual. The tone was amazing and akin to a soft bell on sore ears. This definitely wasn't the same person as Killua. A beautiful flush colored those pale cheeks. Instead of getting mad, Gon reached out to pat him on the head. His hair was so soft.

"Don't mention it. We've met before, right?" When the other looked down to play with the ends of his cloak, Gon's smile faltered. A few second passed with this and Gon inwardly panicked. Maybe he had perceived everything wrong and this was a misunderstanding. His awkwardness was coming out again. "I-I uh, unless you don't remember me. I guess it's hard to remember someone you've only seen once! Of course I wasn't trying to impose or anything but you were in trouble an- oh no! We have to fix that bleeding or else it'll ruin your clothes and, and…" He trailed off when he noticed the other staring at him, the tips of his mouth twitching up in a smile. "I'll be quiet now."

"You're really nice."

Gon blinked. "Eh? I am…?"

"The nicest person I've met." The robot laughed; no longer was there a trace of a stammer in his voice. "And…I do remember you."

The inventor let out a forced smile. With how he treated Mito, Killua, and his own life; no, he wasn't a nice person at all. He was selfish. Somehow he felt like he was a liar and it planted a restless seed in his stomach. "Ah, thank goodness! I'm Gon, and your name is…?"

"I-I'm Daidaiiro." *

But, he was a very good liar.

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

"Liar."

The man smirked in wretched glee. "I didn't lie, brat. I never told anyone, I showed them."

"Paladinight; while I appreciate your rubbing of salt in the wounds, I do not want you fraternizing with my targets." There, in the shadows, emerged a short mustached man however, this one wore a pocket watch instead of a monocle. With a smile that spread from ear to ear, he faced the robot in fake concern. "Now Killua-kun. I believe we already established that you come with us quietly if you don't want me to let go of this button, didn't we?" He purposely shined a device that was built into his belt. A ragged smelly thump held it closed so it was impossible to snatch without triggering.

For the second time that day, Killua narrowed his eyes. He was stupid for not paying attention to the nature of that Paladinight's hug. Neither of them noticed the bug he planted on Gon which could detonate at a push of a button. Killua nearly scoffed. Just being around this suddenly nicer and warmer Gon had left his senses dull. He needed to kill someone, quick, before it was too late. Despite this, he retracted his steel claws. "Understood."

"How strange, I've heard battle robots are supposed to be heartless." By now they had crossed that sandy field of men burying bodies and reached a hidden staircase which led into a hallway made of plastic. A few corridors in and they were exposed to giant glass panes with containment tubes littering the other side of the room. Countless bodies of long dead but famous, strong, or beautiful people lay inside. It was a complete monopoly of preserved corpses. This was that same mafia that attacked Gon and made a living off of selling dead bodies as a display. Killua tried to make out who looked like a 'Mito-san' out of them. "Are you sure this is correct, Paladinight?"

"Positive, vice-boss!" Leorio yelled indignant. "I saw him shoot lightning and he nearly killed me with those claw things! I don't get how the most powerful model ended up with a kid like that either but it happened, right?"

"I suppose, but I still can't believe it…" he stroked his beard. "Well, this one's probably just trying to keep himself from being punished." When any robot betrays their master, a setting in their system would automatically send the machine through unimaginable episodes of pain. It was a form of insurance for the humans.

Their clattered footsteps echoed in the hallway. They couldn't have been more mismatched, with Leorio's faltering every few moments, the vice-boss's booming, and Killua's as silent as an assassin. They finally reached a small room with straps and an operating table at the center. "All of the world's most powerful mafia families own a Killua bot. A whole lot of them only are so great because they have one. They're only meant to be used." Killua blinked. He should've been…what was that word? Angry…? But he didn't really care. "That kid was really wasting a good robot. Oh, you may leave now, Leorio. Good work."

Leorio stopped, dumbfounded. "H-Hey, wait a second…! I got you a Killua X model out of the goodness of my heart. Don't I get payment for this? I-I'm expecting a raise!"

"And you'll get one." At that, the tall man in glasses seemed to relax. "You can run two bombs a day to the desert instead of one, how about that?"

"W-Wh-WHAT?!" Killua side stepped as Leorio grabbed the vice-boss by the collar and easily lifted him five feet in the air. Just as well, because Leorio wasn't allowed to say anything but rather show the man a Killua bot, he had no chance to negotiate. "LOOK, MAN! I joined this ratty organization because I needed the money and all you've given me is a permanent limp, burn marks that'll never go away, and a hundred dollars in TWO YEARS!"

"Oh boo hoo. Really, Paladinight; calm down. By running two bombs and doing all that excellent repair work you're already so keen on, you'll make an extra ten bucks a year-"

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT SHIT!" Raising a well-muscled arm, Leorio socked the man across the room. He crashed into the opposing wall, nearly leaving a dent in the plastic and a hard purple bruise near his eye. "HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO PAY PIETRO'S MEDICAL BILLS LIKE THIS?!"

Leorio took deep breaths in. His eyes trailed the blood from which was leaking from the short man's nose in an ugly disarray. He knew he was screwed, dead perhaps but none of that deterred him. The man straightened himself out. "I'm beating the shit out of you."

"And then what…?" His bloodied mustache rustled. From within his pockets, he pressed an alert button to call for the guards to seize him. He still needed Leorio's precise skills alive for now. "You'll just be jobless again in this horrible place. You can't even leave because your dear, dear friend is here and he'd die the instant you remove the wires. What a pathetic man you are. My brother the so-called boss agrees."

That was when guards with Tasers swamped the entryway. Leorio felt himself grabbed by arms even bigger than his and yanked against the floor painfully as he was dragged away. He went kicking and screaming, gripping the edge of the doorway, only for the pocket watch man to slam it on his fingers without mercy. They didn't come off but Killua saw the action left trails of blood behind on the perfectly white walls.

"…So, you aren't going to rescue him with the power of friendship?" The vice-boss chirped sarcastically.

"If it's not my master, I have no business in it."

He burst out laughing in some sound that was a cross between a hyena and a growling lion. "That's why I love you robots; nothing like that weepy Paladinight or slow pig Milluki! Yes, yes, I see, your master as you call it. The name, profile, voice, scent, and smell of this master are downloaded into your system and that's how you recognize who to take orders from."

"…"

"Now let's get to the main point. I am the vise-boss and my twin brother is the boss around here. My name is Happy." The name would've sent shivers down anyone else's spine. He sneered until the tips of his lips nearly touched his ears. It was as if the crescent moon had descended right where his mouth should be. "Shut down for an hour or two, would you? This table here contains the latest in robot technology. I must make a few changes to your program. I assure you that they're favourable ones…unless of course, you want that bomb to go off. I even promise to disable the explosion if you comply here. If I remember correctly, your system punishes you if your current master, the child, dies. You have little choice." So misleadingly, the crescent sunk back in favor for the wrinkles of his face curling to form a gentle smile. "Either way, I win."

"Fool."

Happy's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. Then, he laughed again.

"A happy fool I am."

-H-H-H-H-H-H-

* Daidaiiro is Japanese for the colour orange.

This is the part where Leorio gets super powers and saves the day with his awesomeness, hulk-style. Sorry if Daidaiiro and Gon's flashback in the beginning confuse some of you. I assure you that Gon's past and Daidaiiro's purpose in the story will be revealed in due time.

JanKenPon will probably be updated sometime in May or later when school's out. I really can't tell when I get random inspiration. I already have an idea for the next story though.