The cold sensation beneath him and the jolting of the vehicle over rough roads constantly reminded Moro—this was reality.
He had touched death, yet when he opened his eyes, he was back one year ago.
Moro sat in a daze, unable to suppress the memories surging from the depths of his mind. A year ago, he had awoken in this very cage within the truck's compartment. The unfamiliar environment and suffocating confinement had woven together with the cold jolts to create overwhelming panic, dominating his emotions at the time.
Now, as his thoughts returned to the present, Moro couldn't afford to lose control like he did then, screaming in fear. He quickly calmed himself and scanned his surroundings again.
Through the dim light filtering through small holes in the compartment, he saw two rows of iron cages lining the elongated truck. Each cage held a naked person. Moro, too, was unclothed.
His gaze swept over the others in the cages—men and women, roughly 14 to 16 years old, about his age. As their faces overlapped with fragments of his memories, Moro realized he recognized them from his first time here.
While he observed them, the others, stirred by his movements, turned to look at him. Most had dull, vacant stares, but a few showed faint confusion.
Moro ignored their gazes, lowering his head to avoid their eyes. What was going on?
In his memory, Feitan's sinister, rage-filled eyes seemed to materialize before him. The chilling sensation of a blade slicing through his face and severing his life lingered. It felt like a venomous snake coiling around his heart, its coldness seeping into his bones.
Yet—
Placing a hand on his chest, he felt his heart pounding fiercely. He was alive!
Confirming this, Moro closed his eyes, striving to steady his emotions. This bizarre escape from death made him cherish the simple act of breathing.
Moments later, he slowly opened his eyes and glanced at the back of his right hand. The tree-ring tattoo was still there!
This lifted his spirits. He clearly remembered that the tattoo had only begun to faintly appear the day after his transmigration, solidifying over several days. But now, at this point in time, it was already fully formed—a key difference.
Moro focused his gaze, moving his hand into the light to see more clearly. Under the faint illumination, he noticed a change: the white ring, previously filled, was now pitch black. The infinity symbol at the center was gone, replaced by—
Lv.1.
Moro's expression shifted. The blackened ring suggested that the tattoo was likely responsible for this turn of events. The replacement of the infinity symbol with Lv.1 was a mystery, though.
Was it connected to Love Etude? Melena's figure flashed through his mind. The Lv symbol denoted levels, a hallmark of her Nen ability. Naturally, Moro couldn't help but draw a connection.
But was there truly a link between the two? If the tree-ring tattoo's effect was to return him to a year ago upon death, what role did the level symbol play?
Moro's eyes lowered as he sorted through the information. Lost in thought, he instinctively raised his left hand, brushing it over the tattoo on his right.
"Hm?"
That's when he noticed a red X symbol on the back of his left hand, its edges framed in inky black, radiating an ominous aura.
"What is this…?"
Moro's pupils contracted, his attention locking onto the X. In that instant, his consciousness felt like a small boat swallowed by a whirlpool, briefly trembling and blurring.
In the span of a breath, Feitan's image reappeared before him, his cold, murderous intent now vivid beneath his rage. The sensation of a blade slicing his face and death's grip on his throat returned, amplified.
Darkness engulfed him as Moro relived an excruciatingly real death. Then, his consciousness blurred again. The scene dissolved like weathered stone, replaced by an image of a heart clutched by pitch-black hands.
Staring at the heart, Moro suddenly knew—it was his. This realization came unbidden, as if data had been forcibly uploaded into his mind. Alongside it came knowledge of something called the "Death Node."
"Hm?"
His consciousness snapped back to reality. Moro froze, still in the same position. "Death Node?" he muttered incredulously, staring at the rusty iron bars before him. With a sigh, he leaned back against the opposite bars, feeling drained.
The Death Node—his moment of death: June 23, 1997. He had died at Feitan's hands that day. Now, he had been reborn at the moment of his initial transmigration, June 7, 1996.
Undoubtedly, he had been granted a chance to start over. But the Death Node branded onto him wouldn't vanish with his rebirth. If he couldn't destroy it before June 22, 1997, his heart would shatter, returning him to death's embrace.
To destroy the Death Node, he had to kill the one who created it—Feitan, who was unaware of this—before that deadline. Only then could he erase the X on his left hand and break the curse.
"One year…" Moro exhaled, picturing the black hands gripping his heart. It felt like Kurapika's Judgment Chain piercing his chest. Death Node or not, it was better than permanent death. Besides…
He glanced at the Lv.1 symbol in the tattoo's center. Though its exact function was unclear, it likely wasn't harmful. Finding a way to advance from Lv.1 to Lv.2 would reveal its effects.
For now, he needed to address his immediate situation.
Moro refocused, his gaze flicking past the rusty bars. In a few hours, this truck would arrive at a mental hospital built into a mountainside. On the surface, it was a medical facility; in truth, it was a front for human trafficking and organ trading.
From the moment he was locked in this cage, Moro—and the others—had been branded as livestock.