With every word that Linck spat out, Hoth writhed in greater agony. The swagger and confidence he'd shown moments ago had completely vanished.
Now, he looked more like a lamb on its knees, begging for mercy.
Before he could even voice his plea, a low, cold voice rang out.
"How dull. You can't even put up the slightest resistance? Gardevoir—Psychic!"
A wave of dread surged through Hoth's mind—a primal instinct that only surfaced when one's body sensed the approach of death.
But under that crushing psychic pressure, he couldn't so much as twitch. All he could do… was accept the arrival of his end.
Darkness swallowed his vision, and his consciousness slipped completely into the void.
Moments later, Gardevoir withdrew its oppressive aura. Hoth was already lying lifeless on the floor, his once-prized aura so pitifully weak that it hadn't been able to block even a fraction of the psychic assault.
And so, he died in the very way he thought he never would—brain death from psychic impact, his breath gone for good.
As Hoth's life ended, his aura dispersed instantly. His body began to split apart into pieces, much like the clown Bucky after eating the Chop-Chop Fruit.
It turned out that the aftermath of Hoth's "Baptism" wasn't just the cracked skin—it had damaged him far deeper.
His awakened aura and shattered body had been in a fragile balance.
That pitiful scrap of aura had been acting like glue, barely holding him together. Now that the man was dead and the aura gone, his body naturally came apart.
The irony was almost laughable, he had boasted about crushing Linck to pieces, but in the end, it was his own body that lay scattered.
There was one more change—Gardevoir's experience bar shifted slightly. Killing a D-rank Nen user had granted her a trace amount of experience.
But it was indeed pitiful, barely a drop in the bucket compared to the long progress bar.
And now… it's your turn.
Linck's gaze slid away from the heap of flesh, settling on the trembling Pierce beside it.
Pierce was already scared witless, shivering like a leaf, not daring to glance at what lay beside him.
He swore this was the most terrifying sight he had ever witnessed in his life—far worse than the last time he'd seen several guards die in an instant.
As a gang boss, he had seen death before. The goriest scene he'd known until now was a bullet to the head.
But never had he seen a living man turned into countless chunks of flesh.
Pierce, ignorant of Nen, was convinced that Hoth's gruesome end had been entirely Linck's doing, and in his mind, Linck was now a deranged butcher of bodies.
Thud, thud! Linck stomped twice on the floor, signaling for Pierce to look up.
"A-ah! Please, don't kill me…"
Pierce slowly lifted his pig-like head, his eyes brimming with panic and fear.
To him, Linck was like a soul-devouring black hole, pulling him in—about to drag him into an endless abyss.
"P-please… I'm begging you, sir… spare me…" His hoarse voice was thick with unmistakable despair.
He didn't believe for a second that Linck would actually let him go, but he also didn't want to end up like Hoth, scattered across the floor.
"Where is my ID?" Linck ignored the plea and asked coldly.
Pierce's pupils shrank, his body trembling once more.
He knew exactly what he'd been doing the past few days, apart from pulling strings to hire a Nen user to "regain his honor," he hadn't done anything else.
The matter of the ID had long slipped his mind. In his view, with the "expert" he'd paid so handsomely for, the problem should have been solved easily.
"I… uh… the ID…"
Linck didn't look surprised. If Pierce could hand it over right now, that would've been shocking.
"I'll give you one hour. If I don't have it by then… you'll end up just like him." Linck crossed his arms and spoke slowly.
He didn't need to say who "him" was—they both knew perfectly well.
The last arrogant man had already been scattered "all over the place."
An hour later, Linck held a brand-new ID in his hand, complete with name, gender, and place of birth.
The name and gender were nothing special, but the birthplace was set directly to this very town.
With a pleasant smile on his handsome face, Linck said to the still-kneeling Pierce:
"See? Wasn't that quick? Turns out efficiency just needs a little… pressure."
"Y-you're absolutely right, sir…" Though both his mind and body were on the brink of collapse, Pierce still had to kneel there, grinning like a fool.
"Sir, perhaps… you could spare my life? Take all my belongings if you must!"
At this point, Pierce's mind was blank. He wanted nothing else, only to live.
He cursed himself for the past few days. What was a little humiliation? Now, instead of just losing money, his life was hanging by a thread.
"Forgive you? Sure." Linck slipped the ID into his pocket, stretched lazily, and headed for the door.
Pierce stared, stunned, as Linck walked step by step toward the exit, feeling as if a great fortune had fallen from the sky and struck him on the head. He was so overjoyed he couldn't tell north from south.
But the joy didn't last.
The moment Linck stepped out the door, Pierce's bloated body collapsed to the floor…
Still wearing the smile from his last breath.
If it weren't for the pool of blood beneath him, anyone would think he was just asleep.
"I forgave you—but I never said I wouldn't kill you. Next life, learn to recognize who not to mess with."
In the dark, silent night, the moon was hidden behind thick clouds. Linck walked slowly into the ink-black streets, leaving only that faint murmur behind.