44 Degrees Vacation? Former Roommate and the Sunken Treasure Ship

The name "Battleship Island" did not come from the shape of the island itself, but rather from an old warship that had been converted into a hotel.

From high above, gazing down from the airship, one could see that the island was not particularly large. Its crescent-shaped tip was marked by the presence of a massive, moss-covered, rust-streaked warship.

Amid the deep blue sea, patches of green and iron gray mingled, unexpectedly forming a scene of striking beauty.

Kurama sat on the outer terrace on one side of the airship, squinting against the brilliant sunlight as he studied the approaching Battleship Island—

The stories that would unfold on this island were, in fact, absent from the original manga.

The remade Hunter anime, often criticized by many, also skipped this arc. It was a plotline created exclusively by the original animation team of the first Hunter adaptation, much like the vengeful young girl on the airship earlier.

To be honest, Kurama wasn’t particularly concerned with which storyline the plot would follow. He was simply interested in this place, which held unique significance—did he not still remember those sunken ships resting in the cold depths, overflowing with treasures from all eras?

They were like a trove of unclaimed riches, constantly calling out to Kurama to hurry, to come and plunder them!

The fox demon would never willingly pass up such a windfall of treasures. If he were to miss this arc on Battleship Island, Kurama knew he would feel deeply, deeply regretful.

Amid the cheers of the examinees, the airship descended slowly.

Having survived the third round, the number of qualified contestants had dwindled from 405 to just 33. Leorio gave them a meaningful smile as he let them off, hinting at the legend of the soul of a warrior.

This mischievous examiner said nothing of the impending disaster and the hidden test it signaled. Instead, with a “kind and friendly” demeanor, he told the examinees that this was a special break arranged by the Hunter Association to let everyone rest and gather their strength for the remaining rounds of the exam.

Standing apart from the crowd, Kurama watched as most of the examinees relaxed upon hearing Leorio’s explanation, their faces displaying smiles that, to put it bluntly, bordered on utter carelessness. For a fleeting moment, he worried for the association’s future—these children were so naive it was almost painful to witness!

Could they really be so easily fooled? With such a suspicious scenario, why was there not a single voice of doubt?

Illumi and Hisoka—one indifferent, the other merely curious—had not objected, but what about Kurapika and Killua?

One had boldly abducted a key member of the Phantom Troupe before their very eyes—a plan that, though a bit raw, still showed remarkable cunning.

The other, raised as the heir to a family of assassins, possessed a shrewdness far beyond that of most adults. How could these two fail to sense anything amiss? Instead, one was playing with fire, the other joking around with his best friend as if nothing were wrong.

—As a fellow main character struggling under the same hand of fate, Kurama couldn’t help but feel a pang of injustice as he recalled the crises he’d faced in the past when failing to think ahead could have led to his demise at any moment.

The direct result was that, unlike the other examinees, the fox demon paid little attention to the innkeeper couple’s instructions, nor did he bother to argue with them. Instead, he quietly nodded to Illumi and slipped away unnoticed, making his way to a perfect entry point for the water, far from anyone’s sight.

“Do you want to come play in the water too, Mokona?” he asked with a smile, poking the soft little belly of the white puffball.

Mokona eagerly raised a paw, “Yes!”

Kurama watched him with amusement.

“Can Mokona swim?”

The white fluffball nodded vigorously, “Of course! Mokona can hold its breath underwater for thirty minutes!”

Kurama nearly couldn’t resist reaching out to pinch him—what an adorable little creature, with cheeks flushed in excitement and pride! He barely managed to control his fingers.

Clearing his throat, the fox demon tried to distract himself.

“But I plan to dive down, grab a token treasure as ‘rent’ to pay, and then spend a long time underwater searching for more. If you have to return to the surface every thirty minutes for air, you won’t be able to keep up.”

Kurama feigned seriousness.

Mokona immediately snuggled up to him, smiling:

“But Kurama has to surface for air too, right? Neither demon energy nor Nen can keep you underwater forever, can they? So Kurama must have another way—you can bring Mokona along!”

Kurama felt a rush of delight at Mokona’s affectionate nuzzling.

“Of course I’ll bring you,” he said fondly, tapping the little one’s soft forehead. “Otherwise, if someone steals you while I’m gone, what would I do?”

Chrollo, who had followed to see what Kurama was planning, couldn’t help but twitch at this—

Did he have to make his intentions so obvious? Hadn’t he already promised a temporary truce?

Kurama ignored him.

With swift, practiced movements, he withdrew a seed from his hair—though Chrollo couldn’t tell what he was doing. Having fused his demon energy with Nen, the unique force said to embody life itself, Kurama found manipulating plants ever more effortless. He urged the seed to grow, swelling it until it became a transparent bubble large enough to fit at least three adults.

—A Demon Realm Plant: Water Sprite Hunter.

This was a most unusual plant, straddling the boundary between flora and fauna, feeding on aquatic creatures and certain water-dwelling demons.

They typically lurked motionless in the dark shadows beneath the water, their transparent membranes making it impossible to distinguish plant from water.

This strange outer membrane was so thin and clear that, even if controlled by a water sprite hunter, even the most sensitive of demons might swim through without ever realizing it was there.

Once prey was fully inside the bubble, the water sprite hunter would swiftly attack—regardless of whether the victim was a mere aquatic creature, an amphibian, or a demon, it would rapidly expel all oxygen from its body, seeking to suffocate its prey in the shortest time possible.

—It must be admitted that this method of killing was truly ruthless.

Yet for Kurama, this plant was, in every sense, an incredibly handy tool—his first choice whenever he needed to operate underwater.

With Mokona in his arms, Kurama stepped into the bubble, waved to a curious Chrollo, and then commanded the water sprite hunter to leap into the sea, beginning a gradual descent…

***

In the shallowest layers near the surface, sunlight streamed through the clear water, illuminating everything with perfect clarity.

Inside the water sprite hunter’s bubble, the air remained dry and fresh, thanks to Kurama’s command forbidding any seawater from entering. The miraculous membrane constantly converted and replenished the oxygen within, filling the interior with pure air so comfortable that one almost wanted to scream with delight.

Through the bubble, the vibrant world of the shallows unfolded like a fairy tale—

Schools of brilliantly colored fish swam overhead and beside them, with dazzling red coral, delicate aquatic plants growing along the sea floor, and tiny fish, shrimp, and crabs nestled among sparkling pebbles and multicolored shells.

The entire scene was so beautiful it seemed a dream.

Unable to resist, Mokona hopped off Kurama’s shoulder and pressed himself against the soft membrane of the bubble, eyes wide in wonder:

“Kurama, look! It’s so beautiful here!”

The little one squealed in excitement.

Indulging him, Kurama moved closer, pressing against the membrane to try and touch the bright fish gliding by.

Because of Kurama’s command, the membrane, which would normally let the fish swim through, had become tough and resilient. The two couldn’t actually touch the fish, but feeling their movements through the thin, soft bubble was a delight in itself. Like children, they poked and laughed together, delighted by the experience.

Fortunately, Kurama had not forgotten his purpose amidst all this fun.

After only a short while, they urged the bubble to dive swiftly, soon coming upon a vast graveyard of sunken ships.

Thanks to Mokona’s miraculous treasure-finding ability, the two quickly located the most valuable items among the wrecks—which Kurama naturally stored in his Devouring Grass space.

The rest, items they considered of little value (though in this world, they were worth more than enough to purchase many rings), Kurama casually picked out two to exchange for a first-class room key.

Under the jealous and envious eyes of the other examinees, Kurama pocketed the key, grabbed Mokona, and hurried back to the azure sea—they intended to spend the entire day here. Otherwise, once disaster struck, the locations of the wrecks might change or be buried deeper, and that would be most unfortunate.

So, throughout most of the morning, the entire afternoon, and part of the evening, Kurama and Mokona gathered countless treasures from among the shipwrecks.

According to Mokona’s rough calculations (with the help of Yuuko’s “little worm in her belly” =w=), these treasures could at least be traded for about ten percent of Kurama’s demon energy from Yuuko—a considerable sum, especially considering Kurama’s own staggering reserves and the fact that he intended to keep some Nen-infused items for his personal collection.

Satisfied, the fox demon and his white companion called it a day before darkness fell completely, laughing and chatting as they returned with their haul.

Upon opening the door, Kurama was unsurprised to find his roommate—the black-haired leader of the troupe—waiting for him with a smile, seated on his bed (though, in this context…).

“As expected of the leader of the Phantom Troupe,” Kurama said suddenly, raising an eyebrow.

Chrollo was momentarily taken aback, then returned the gesture with a gentle smile:

“Right back at you.”

The two exchanged a long look, their eyes meeting in a subtle clash, a hint of mutual appreciation mingling with the undercurrent of rivalry.

Kurama felt a pang of regret that, if only Chrollo would stop coveting Mokona, the two of them might have made fine, scholarly companions—Chrollo was powerful, rational, and erudite. If it were only a matter of academic debate, they would have had endless things to talk about.

Alas…

With a shrug, the fox demon gestured to Chrollo and turned into the luxurious bathroom attached to the room.

***

After a long, soothing bath, Kurama emerged from the bathroom, cheeks flushed pink, only to find Chrollo already gone.

Outside, the roar of engines filled the air. Looking out the window, Kurama saw an airship rapidly ascending, while on the ground below, the abandoned examinees shouted furiously after it.

Blinking calmly, the fox demon turned, climbed into bed, and pulled up the covers—

—A series of smooth, unhurried movements, executed with not a hint of hesitation.

Satisfied that the seeds he’d scattered were evenly distributed throughout the room, Kurama scooped up the soft white bundle and held him close to his chest, closed his eyes, and drifted off into a blissful sleep.

And on the ship, everyone—including Chrollo and Illumi—seemed to forget Kurama existed; not a single person thought to look for him amid the chaos of that night, whether to seek help or out of concern.

The next morning, as the sun rose gently over the horizon, the surviving examinees collapsed, exhausted, throughout the warship, falling instantly into deep, dreamless sleep.

Meanwhile, the red-haired fox demon, well-rested after a peaceful night, appeared on deck full of energy, Mokona in his arms, leisurely taking in the rare spectacle of a sunrise at sea…

“Speaking of which, the Association should be sending someone to fetch us soon, shouldn’t they?”

After a quiet moment, Kurama turned to find Chrollo standing behind him, and offered a gentle smile…

A subtle, complex expression flickered across the black-haired youth’s face.