While Linck was quietly observing from the shadows, the two sides had already clashed head-on.
The hip-hop man went straight for the Wind–Fire Duo, eager to avenge the sneak attack from earlier.
With his toughened body and seemingly endless Nen, he could withstand their firepower and close in, catching them completely off guard.
The woman in leather, meanwhile, had taken on Pihito. Her whip lashed through the air in rapid arcs, leaving afterimages trailing in its wake.
She used the whip's reach to block off the swarming insects.
But her Nen ability required her whip to actually land blows on her opponent in order to absorb aura.
The insect swarm was entirely formed of Nen, no blood, no flesh.
The longer this dragged on, the more she would be worn down. If not for Glasses behind her, constantly supplying her with aura, she wouldn't be able to hold on for long.
After all, Pihito's strength was at the B-class level. In both aura capacity and Nen technique, he far surpassed the leather-clad woman.
As for the hip-hop man, he too was only managing to overwhelm the two C-class bodyguards thanks to his own Nen ability and his B-minus-class level.
In the midst of this ferocious battlefield, Linck stood off to the side like an outsider.
Even the fighters themselves unconsciously avoided his direction. If Linck were to be hurt, the sheer concentration of Death Nen here would be enough to ensure none of them made it out alive.
So no matter who else died, Linck absolutely could not.
And because of preconceived assumptions, everyone treated Linck as nothing more than a non-combatant support. Naturally, no one paid him much attention.
Little did they know, the Gardevoir standing silently by Linck's side, her aura completely restrained, could, with a mere flick of her wrist, crush them all into pulp.
Since none of them cared to notice him, Linck simply went along with it, watching the fight unfold.
For him, this dazzling, high-octane clash was the first time in his life he had ever witnessed such a battle up close.
It could rival a Hollywood blockbuster.
If only he had popcorn and a Coke in hand, he could sit there all day as if he were at the movies.
Even while watching the chaos, Linck's mind never left the progress bar in his head.
After all this time, it was like a sprinter about to cross the finish line, so close to completion!
His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he imagined what kind of Pokémon might appear once it filled.
"Boom, boom, boom!"
Each of the hip-hop man's punches left a crater on the ground, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
Shards of rock shattered into dust under his strikes, cloaking him in a haze of gray-white smoke.
The destructive power was terrifying, but his blows rarely landed on his two opponents.
Looking closer, both were wreathed in a faint emerald glow, clearly an application of Number One's Nen.
By imbuing themselves with wind, they boosted their movement speed and even unleashed counter-gusts to slow their enemy.
Not quite on Killua's level with "Godspeed," but enough to raise their agility significantly.
The proof was clear: the B-minus-class hip-hop man still couldn't catch them.
But alas…
Seeing Number One already gasping for breath, drenched in sweat despite the fight having only just begun, Linck couldn't help but feel it was a pity.
Number One's aura control was excellent, especially in fine manipulation. He could both deal damage and provide support.
Number Two, in comparison, fell short. Aside from his high-damage flames, he had little else of note.
(literally "Number One" and "Number Two") are not actual names—they're placeholder nicknames the author used in the raw text. Basically, Linck doesn't know their real names, so he just labels them as "No. 1" and "No. 2" in his own head to keep track.
But ultimately, both were only C-class.
Even when working together, they could boost their destructive power, but against the higher overall strength of the hip-hop man, they were powerless.
Their gusts and flames were growing weaker, while the hip-hop man's attacks only became fiercer.
Pinned down, the two were forced back step by step, until they were nearly out of room to retreat.
They exchanged a look. A flash of resolve passed through their eyes.
Neither of them was stupid. From the way the hip-hop man's aura surged stronger with every hit he took, they could already guess the nature of his ability.
They had no choice but to use their trump card. Otherwise, they would only be fueling his growth.
They needed one decisive strike, a fatal blow.
Both planted their feet on winds formed of aura and shot backward at top speed.
They had to put as much distance between themselves and the hip-hop man as possible, to buy precious time.
Standing left and right, they brought their hands together. Red and green aura began to intertwine.
In moments, what began as the size of a ping-pong ball swelled to the size of a basketball. Even at a glance, its destructive force was obvious.
This was their last resort: pouring nearly all their remaining aura into one fused, sphere-shaped strike.
But the aura each released had to be perfectly equal. Otherwise, the sphere would explode in their hands.
As the yellow energy orb spun between them, a counter-clockwise whirlwind rose faintly around their bodies.
At the brink of life and death, they surpassed their usual limits, forming the sphere at record speed.
With all their strength, they hurled it at the charging hip-hop man!
This was…
Wind–Fire Release: Giant Rasengan!?