Chapter 66: Demon's Automatic Note
Kurapika's abilities differed slightly from the manga. The biggest changes were in his Middle Finger and Little Finger Chains.
His abilities weren't solely focused on the Phantom Troupe anymore. They leaned more toward support and versatility, thanks to Ronin's presence sharing the burden of revenge.
However, his Specialist ability remained the same: In Emperor Time, he could use all Nen categories with 100% efficiency. Although, practically speaking, he mostly used Enhancement.
As Kurapika finished his fight, Neon was also wrapping up hers nearby.
Neon didn't know her opponent's name, but that didn't stop her from writing a prophecy for him.
Aura enveloped her left hand. A cute, mochi-like Nen beast with black bat wings materialized.
Driven by the beast, the fountain pen in her hand scribbled rapidly in the air, leaving glowing red text floating in space.
"The bustling street under the moonlight shall become your grave."
Neon smiled. She didn't rush toward Leech. She simply stepped back and watched.
Leech saw the floating red text.
He didn't understand what it meant, but an ominous feeling gripped his heart.
Neon's gaze shifted to the heavy truck that had been blaring its horn earlier.
Something happened to the truck. To avoid rear-ending a sedan, the driver swerved violently. Tires screeched against the asphalt, and the truck tipped over.
It slid on its side, careening directly toward Leech.
Leech heard the screech and turned, seeing the massive vehicle sliding at him.
His pupils contracted. He moved to dodge.
But in that exact instant, the ground beneath him cracked—a fissure caused by Ronin's earlier mini-volcano eruption.
Leech's foot slipped into the crack.
He was stuck for a split second.
In the time it took him to flare his aura and free his foot, the truck slammed into him.
Crunch!
Neon's hair fluttered in the wind. She hadn't lifted a finger. She just watched quietly as Leech was crushed and dragged away by the truck.
"You could see the text, couldn't you? But you stayed on the street. Did you look down on my curse?" Neon walked slowly toward Leech, who was coughing blood but not yet dead.
If he had run into the shops lining the street the moment he saw the red text, he might have escaped his fate.
The curse was clear: The street shall become your grave.
Leaving the street was the loophole to break the destiny of death.
Unfortunately, he didn't understand.
"Ronin once said my poems were curses. Actually, I think curses are pretty cool too," Neon smiled.
Her right hand wielded Lovely Ghostwriter (Angel's Automatic Note)—pure prophecy.
But her left hand wielded Devil's Automatic Note.
The floating text was blood-red, dripping with malice.
She was a Specialist.
She refused to become a "Muscle Barbie" relying solely on Enhancement like Ronin suggested. So she developed her own Specialist Hatsu.
Through her efforts, her right hand evolved: it could now perform short-term divinations (one day) without needing full bio-data. She couldn't read them, but they were accurate.
Her left hand wrote Curses.
The curse only lasted three minutes. If the target deciphered the riddle and found the loophole, they could avoid the effect.
But if they ignored it... calamity would strike.
Just like Leech.
Crushed under the truck, Leech was barely breathing. But Neon wasn't merciful.
She pulled a dagger from her pocket. Under Leech's uncomprehending gaze, she drove the blade into his brain.
Squelch.
Even Leech's brain didn't interest her as a collectible.
He was a complete failure. Trash. Zero aesthetic value.
Neon turned her gaze to Bat, who was descending from the sky, and Worm, who had been hammered into the earth by Ronin.
These two had inhuman traits.
Worm's bizarrely long head and Bat's functional wings... now those were prime specimens.
Then she saw the hole in Bat's wing. Her heart bled.
"Stop! The wings! Don't ruin my wings!"
Ronin, who hadn't planned to spare Bat anyway, was surprised by Neon's frantic shout.
My wings?
Is her damn collecting obsession acting up again?
Ronin ignored her. He fired a single stone bullet, aimed precisely at Bat's head.
Bat's Nen defense was paper-thin. The stone punched straight through his skull, killing him instantly.
"He really wasn't a Conjurer. I thought maybe he was weak because he split his focus between Conjuration and Emission... turns out I overestimated him," Ronin muttered to himself as Neon rushed over to claim the corpse.
Kurapika walked over, dragging the bound and unconscious Owl.
"They were weak. Is this really the level of the Ten Dons' trump card?" Kurapika asked in disbelief.
"They mastered Nen, but they lack a systematic understanding of it. That's the norm for Nen users outside the Hunter Association," Ronin shrugged.
The Association kept Nen a closely guarded secret. Without a master, self-awakened users treated it like a generic superpower.
History books called them "psychics," "geniuses," or "wizards."
Without systematic training, they made mistakes. Like Kastro wasting his potential on an incompatible category. Or failing to master basic applications like Gyo, In, Ken, and Ryu.
The Shadow Beasts were prime examples. They relied heavily on their unique abilities but neglected the fundamentals.
To Ronin, except for Owl (whose ability was genuinely useful), the rest were just training dummies for Kurapika and Neon.
Overall, he was satisfied with their performance.
"Bring him. Let's go."
Police sirens wailed in the distance.
Ronin leaped onto a nearby rooftop. Kurapika and Neon followed. They weren't as graceful as Ronin, but they kept up.
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