Confident judgment, swift execution—it was infuriating.
It felt like accidentally flashing a corner of his underwear, only for the style to be guessed correctly. And the one who guessed was just a kid.
The real issue was—what was going on with this kid?
A strong sense of unease surged in Zazan's heart, followed by a flicker of killing intent. Duty and mission were important, but he couldn't stand this bizarre, unpredictable situation. It was both irritating and unsettling.
Should he kill him?
Zazan glanced at Moro's bleeding knee, his brow furrowing. This "blood bag" was high-priority. For now, he'd observe. The cut he'd made was enough to trigger his ability's condition; it just required waiting longer.
A few more minutes, and Data Knife's effect would activate, allowing him to control Moro.
In that brief moment, Zazan's killing intent flared, then subsided, and he settled on his plan.
"They say third time's the charm, and I think that fits here," Zazan said, masking his emotions as he toyed with his throwing knife, his voice growing colder. "So don't try to escape. That way, you might live."
"They say listen to advice and you'll eat well, and I think that fits here too," Moro replied, eyes locked on Zazan's aura fluctuations, his tone calm. "So I'm not running. That way, you might have a chance to catch me."
Zazan's mouth twitched.
If not for his duty's constraints and the need to wait for his ability's condition, the knife in his left hand would already be flying at Moro. He wouldn't be wasting time trading words.
Since leaping from the cargo hold, Moro had been observing Zazan's aura. People's thoughts and emotions sometimes leaked through aura fluctuations. Skilled Nen users could conceal this, but Zazan clearly wasn't at that level. Moro had caught the shift in his killing intent.
This showed Zazan's "don't harm the cargo" rule was flexible. His serious tone convinced Moro to abandon using Zazan's hesitation to escape. A restrained pursuit was one thing; an unrestrained one was far riskier.
He'd have to face the problem head-on.
Moro consciously distributed his manifest aura evenly across his body. Though he'd awakened his Nen hastily, his adaptation was swift, his body syncing tightly with his aura. At this rate, there'd be no "delay" in feedback between his body and aura—an accident he couldn't afford given his low margin for error.
Keeping his eyes on Zazan, Moro thought this through. Both sides had reasons to wait, creating an eerie silence on the rugged mountain road.
Moro was waiting for his body and aura to fully synchronize, minimizing mistakes. Zazan, holding the upper hand, preferred to resolve this without bloodshed. In this strange atmosphere, neither moved to break the stalemate, maintaining an odd mutual understanding.
One minute, two, three…
As time passed, their mindsets shifted. Zazan, confident in his advantage, didn't overthink Moro's inaction. He only needed to wait for his ability to activate, resolving everything instantly.
Moro, however, had more to consider. Zazan's superior strength was undeniable, but since the knife attack, Moro noticed Zazan lacked urgency regarding time. That was the problem.
I'm waiting to be battle-ready. What's he waiting for?
Moro's gaze flicked to Zazan's left hand, gripping the knife. Left-handedness often hinted at Conjuration-type Nen, but that was just a reference point. Conjurers tended to gather more aura in their dominant hand, but accuracy depended on the ability not being active yet. When Moro leapt from the cargo hold and turned to face Zazan, the knife was already in hand. The bulges in Zazan's jacket suggested more knives hidden inside.
Moro had also checked the cargo hold—the knife embedded there remained. While multiple conjured objects were possible, the evidence suggested Zazan's knives weren't conjured, reducing the likelihood of unique abilities tied to them, like effects triggered by wounds.
This analysis leaned optimistic, but Moro's time in the cutthroat antique trade—where he developed Deceptive Meteor—taught him a lesson: in conflicts of interest, an opponent's expressed intentions often spelled undesirable outcomes for him. Even without more actionable intelligence, waiting further likely carried more risk than reward.
With his current synchronization, he could skip foundational steps and use Deceptive Meteor directly. Probably.
He wasn't entirely sure, but in a headwind, there was no time to test it.
Making his decision, Moro locked onto the handgun on the ground, then gathered aura in his right palm. A fluorescent green glow sprouted like a seed, emerging softly.
On the truck's side, Zazan's eyes flashed with shock. A Nen ability? So soon after awakening his nodes?
Instantly, alarm bells rang in Zazan's mind, his shock turning to killing intent. At that moment, Moro successfully activated Deceptive Meteor. A marble-sized fluorescent green Nen bullet shot from his palm, aimed at Zazan's chest.
Unsure of Moro's ability, Zazan saw the bullet's speed wasn't fast and sidestepped it. Simultaneously, Moro grabbed the handgun, aimed at Zazan, and fired repeatedly.
Bang, bang, bang…
Eleven bullets flew toward Zazan. With icy eyes, he leapt and dodged them.
"P922, twelve rounds," Zazan said, raising his knife as he advanced slowly. "You fired eleven, saving one to turn the tables? I'm more curious about…" His killing intent intensified. "You're familiar with guns and have a Nen ability. Who are you?"
Bang!
Moro answered with the gun's final shot. As it fired, Zazan threw his knife. The bullet, charged with searing energy, and the Nen-wrapped knife passed each other in the air, racing toward their targets.
Zazan's face was expressionless. A single bullet? He could tank it. His knife? He was confident it would kill Moro. The situation had spiraled beyond expectations, and he no longer cared about explaining to his superiors. With cold eyes, he watched the knife close in on Moro, mobilizing aura to block the bullet.
Thud—
Before he saw the knife pierce Moro, a sharp pain hit his back. The impact blurred his consciousness, blood spraying from his mouth.
"What…?" The sudden attack shook Zazan's mind as his vision faded.
On the other side, the Nen-charged knife's tip pierced Moro's skin but stopped, dissolving into a misty form and fading away.
"Phew." The dust settled, and Moro lowered the gun.
He still couldn't pinpoint Zazan's Nen type, but he was grateful to face someone like him. Against a different temperament, he might have died again.