HxH: I Will Be Supreme

Under the night sky, four figures crouched behind ancient trees at the edge of the forest, their forms blending into the shadows. Oboro, who led the group, looked down at the military blockade surrounding a ruined city below.

"They've completely sealed it off as a restricted zone," Kage murmured, his voice low. "Battle uniforms and firearms aside, those white protective suits normally used for bacterial or viral containment."

"There's something wrong with that," Ranse, another member of their team, drew a sharp breath. 

"Capture one," Oboro instructed.

"Understood." Ranse fell silently from his branch.

Oboro's eyes returned to the soldiers patrolling the collapsed buildings. Their sealed helmets and hazmat suits suggested something far worse than a simple military operation. The scene carried the weight of an unfolding disaster.

"There," Kage suddenly pointed.

Following his gesture, Oboro and Hisoka saw massive piles of charred material outside the city, still sending out wisps of smoke.

"Those are corpses," Oboro said quietly. "Most likely the inhabitants of the town."

"What?" Kage's shock was palpable.

Mass cremation. It made no sense. The East Gorteau military was supposedly fighting the Bozwa tribe, why would they kill their own citizens? And even if the Bozwa were responsible, they couldn't have come this far. The Jagged Mountains were dozens of kilometers away.

Hisoka sat lazily on a thick branch, one leg dangling as he shuffled his cards. "Source of infection," he mused, a familiar gleam in his eyes. "Something that becomes dangerous on contact, with consequences so severe that elimination becomes the only solution."

"A virus?" Kage's expression darkened.

If even the national military couldn't contain it, the transmission rate must be frightening. Left unchecked, it could threaten the entire country, perhaps even beyond.

'Is this why the President assigned this mission?'

"It may not be a virus," Oboro said, his memory bank offering whispers of possibilities he could not yet utter.

"Just a hypothesis," Hisoka continued, "but whatever it is, it must have properties similar to viral transmission."

A disturbing theory formed in Oboro's mind. The footage Dama had uncovered showed Bozwa tribesmen fighting after death. The connection could not be ignored.

Their conversation stopped when Ranse returned. One by one, they disappeared from the trees and regrouped at another spot where Pingsen, Dama, Dangeri, and their local guides were waiting.

Ranse threw an unconscious soldier to the ground, removed the man's hood, and revived him.

"You," the soldier's eyes flew open, his composure crumbling at the sight of unfamiliar faces and the gun pointed at his head.

"Answer honestly and you'll live," Ranse crouched down and pressed the muzzle against the soldier's temple. "Refuse and it will be unpleasant."

The soldier nodded frantically.

"Tell me everything about the current military situation and battle plans."

Without hesitation, the soldier revealed the truth. Their protective gear wasn't meant for traditional warfare, it was designed to protect against tiny black insects no bigger than a fingernail.

The conflict began when East Gorteau ordered the Bozwa tribe to move, claiming they needed the land for logging and resources. The Bozwa, who had lived in the Serrated Mountains for countless generations, refused to leave their ancestral home.

Violence erupted. With fewer than five hundred members, the Bozwa tribe should have fallen quickly to the superior forces of the military. Despite their primitive fighting methods and tactical use of familiar terrain, most were slaughtered within an hour.

Victory seemed assured until the dead began to rise.

The fallen Bozwa warriors rose again, now mindless corpses of inhuman strength and savage ferocity. They fought with explosive speed and power, deflecting bullets like rain. Only total physical destruction could stop them.

But the true horror came after their second death. From the shattered bodies came the insects, small black creatures that turned anyone they bit into similar mindless attackers. Each infected victim spawned more insects upon death, creating an exponential spread.

The insects proved nearly impossible to eliminate. They could fly, resist most countermeasures, and attack any creature with flesh and blood. The rich wildlife of the Serrated Mountains only compounded the problem.

"Four key characteristics: host, control, spread and multiply," Oboro exchanged glances with Hisoka.

Hisoka snapped his fingers. "This confirms that this is not the work of a Nen user. The scale and range far exceed normal Nen abilities."

Oboro agreed. No known manipulation ability could maintain such range and numbers. Even the most powerful Nen users had clear limitations: distance restrictions, quantity limits, and the mental strain of controlling multiple targets.

"The Supreme Leader has ordered the total extermination of the Bozwa tribe," the soldier added frantically.

"So many dead, and he is still obsessed with resources? Fool," Ranse spat and executed the soldier without waiting for orders.

"Kage, Ranse, stay here and protect the others," Oboro ordered. The priority now was to secure a specimen of these parasites.

From their position, the Serrated Mountains loomed as endless black shadows against the starlit sky.

"Understood," they replied in unison.

Leaving the non-combatants for safer ground, Oboro and Hisoka disappeared in a blur of movement. Two dark streaks raced across the open ground, their speed creating whistling air currents that startled the military patrols. The soldiers raised their weapons but saw nothing, only felt a powerful gust of wind that vanished as quickly as it had come.

The landscape passed them like a distorted painting.

"If not an individual's ability, what is your theory?" Oboro asked as they ran.

"It's definitely Nen, but not an ordinary application. Your expression suggests that you know something," Hisoka looked at his companion.

"This energy transcends human limits," Oboro said carefully.

"Indeed."

"Some ancient tribes may have connections to realms beyond human understanding."

"How interesting," Hisoka's usually lazy eyes sharpened with predatory focus.

Within fifteen minutes, they entered another dense forest. The path was littered with rotting military and animal corpses, a testament to the savage fighting. The main army camp was ten miles from the city, housing thousands of soldiers, but Oboro paid no attention.

"Notice anything?" he asked, studying the broken trees, scorched earth, and scattered remains.

"Yes. Not a single Bozwa body remains."

The bodies they passed were mostly dismembered, clearly destroyed to prevent reanimation.

"Retrieved by their tribesmen?"

It seemed implausible. How could the surviving Bozwa, reportedly fewer than fifty, hiding deep in the mountains, locate and recover every fallen comrade across such vast battlefields?

"Not recovered, consumed," Hisoka bent down and picked up a bloodstained piece of Bozwa clothing from the rubble.

"Consumed by the host creature? Selective consumption based on tribal affiliation?"

"Hey, we should track down the survivors, capture one for questioning," Hisoka suggested with a predatory smile.

"If you want to die, go alone," Oboro's voice grew cold. "Whatever power the Bozwa possess, it is clearly beyond common understanding. We need more information before a direct confrontation."

"Is that so?" Disappointment flickered across Hisoka's face.

His eyes suddenly darted to the surrounding forest, a map appeared between his fingers. "The mountain nights are quite busy."

Oboro turned and noticed the dark figures emerging from the shadows. Glowing eyes surrounded them in the darkness.

They were no longer alone.