Six months.
That was the total amount of time Moro had spent mastering the art of Nen.
In terms of raw technique, output, and potential reserves, he was leagues behind the veterans standing across from him. Worse still, he lacked actual combat experience.
Truth be told, Moro didn't have grand ambitions. If he had to name one, it was simply to live well—to eat heartily and sleep soundly. That was why he never sought trouble, choosing instead to split his time between repaying Morena and quietly refining his Nen.
His only "battles" had been lighthearted sparring matches with Sanosuke, using his front as an Enhancer. But those were mere child's play.
Now, at the threshold of life and death, did he regret not spending more time honing his strength?
Moro felt no regret. Or rather, he had no mental capacity to spare for such idle thoughts. He knew only one thing: he had to rely on his own Nen to find a single thread of survival in a situation that was almost certainly fatal.
But before he could act, he needed to create an opening.
During the brief silence, Moro's mind churned at a feverish pace. Chrollo had stopped Bonolenov out of curiosity, but Moro didn't believe for a second that the leader would wait patiently for an answer. With Pakunoda's memory-searching ability available, they could simply break him and pry every secret from his mind.
Even shouting Chrollo's ability name or the Vows and Restrictions associated with it likely wouldn't be enough to shatter Chrollo's focus.
How do I use this limited 'window of speech'? What words can strike directly at the souls of these monsters?
In the face of death, Moro's brain cells burned like white phosphorus. Then, a name surfaced naturally from his memories of the original story—
Sarasa.
The owner of that name was the very catalyst for the formation of the Phantom Troupe, a lingering wound in the hearts of Chrollo and his companions.
"Sarasa."
Without a moment's hesitation, Moro shouted the name that had been buried deep within the souls of Chrollo, Pakunoda, and Shalnark.
The street fell still, save for the rain.
A name that should never have appeared in this time and place rippled outward, physically jarring the composure of the three Spiders. Why did this boy know that name?
In that split second of confusion, Moro moved.
[Deceptive Shooting Star]
Moro raised his hands, condensing a lime-green Nen orb the size of an egg in each palm. He fired them instantly, the spheres streaking toward the momentarily stunned Pakunoda and Shalnark.
Strike while they waver!
The green tracers reached their targets in a heartbeat. However, Bonolenov—who had no connection to the name Sarasa—remained unmoved. In the nick of time, he shoved Shalnark aside, causing the bullet of light to whistle past the youth's head.
Almost simultaneously, Chrollo's extraordinary mental fortitude allowed him to stabilize his mind. He reached out and yanked Pakunoda toward him.
Both orbs missed.
Moro didn't wait to see the result. He was already sprinting toward the side of the sidewalk. The shadow guarding the back door possessed a bloodlust so violent it could only belong to one of the Troupe's combat specialists. Until that person showed their face, Moro refused to go anywhere near them.
His only route was the main street!
He cast a quick glance back. The Shooting Stars missed...
Ultimately, his "Hatsu" wasn't refined enough; his release speed was too slow. But he couldn't deny Chrollo's sheer brilliance—the man's reflexes were as sharp as his intellect.
Moro withdrew his gaze. Even though the first phase failed, he wasn't disappointed. His Deceptive Shooting Star had a second stage.
"Sorry," Shalnark muttered on the empty street, his brow furrowing as he regained his focus.
Bonolenov gave him a strange look, then turned his attention to the fleeing Moro, his legs churning as he gave chase. Chrollo, his eyes now like chips of ice, blurred past Bonolenov in a flicker of speed, tearing through the rain to close the gap. Shalnark and Pakunoda followed close behind.
The questions remained, but once they caught him, Pakunoda would have all the answers they needed.
Up ahead, Moro glanced back at the closing Spiders.
"Almost time..."
Counting the seconds in his head, Moro raised his right hand, preparing for the return of the "Stars."
His Deceptive Shooting Star was a complex Emission and Manipulation type ability with a maximum range of exactly one hundred meters. When the stars reached that limit, they would freeze in mid-air for a duration of one to five seconds—a setting Moro determined at the moment of firing.
Once that time expired, the stars would undergo a transformation. Their power, speed, and size would double, and they would boomerang back toward Moro with homing precision.
The massive power boost of the second phase was the "Vow" of the ability. The "Restriction" was equally simple: The returning stars could damage Moro himself.
If nothing stood in their way, Moro would have to dodge or tank his own amplified attack. He had set this dangerous restriction because of the tattoo on the back of his right hand. Under the protection of those rings, his hand was as indestructible as a divine shield.
Calculating the trajectory, Moro abruptly shifted his stance.
Amidst the roar of the storm, two sharp twangs echoed. Two intense beams of green light pierced the night, radiating a lethal pressure as they streaked back toward Pakunoda and Shalnark.
Because Chrollo and Bonolenov were leading the chase, the two in the back were isolated.
Shalnark barely had time to react, twisting his body in a desperate contortion. The star clipped his waist, instantly vaporizing a massive chunk of flesh. It looked as if he had been bitten by an invisible leviathan.
Pakunoda was a beat slower.
Blood sprayed into the air as the star slammed into her upper body, punching a clean hole through her. Her strength vanished instantly, and her body collapsed heavily onto the wet pavement.
The sudden turn of events forced Chrollo and Bonolenov to falter in their pursuit.
Moro saw his opening. He funneled over half of his aura into his legs and sprinted with everything he had.
I've done all I can. If I still can't escape... then I'll accept my fate.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a shadow flickered in his peripheral vision. He caught a glimpse of a cold, sinister face—eyes boiling with a rage that could burn the world.
Feitan?!
Before the thought could even finish, Moro felt a sudden chill across the bridge of his nose. His consciousness, like a violin string stretched too tight, snapped. His perception of the world faded with agonizing slowness, yet with inevitable finality.
In his final moment, a single question echoed in the void of his mind.
Am I... dead?
Cold. Vibration.
Moro's eyes snapped open. The first thing he saw was a row of vertical, rusted iron bars.
It looked like a cage.
"Where am I...?"
Moro looked around, stunned. The sensation of his life ending was still fresh, a phantom ache in his soul, but it was quickly being overwritten by a flood of familiar memories.
He was back. He was in the exact moment he had first transmigrated—one year ago.
AuthorNotes:
- Sanosuke: Consistent with previous chapters.
- Sarasa: A pivotal name in the Hunter x Hunter lore (Chrollo's childhood friend), kept for plot accuracy.
- Deceptive Shooting Star: Translated "欺诈飞星" (Qīzhà Fēixīng).
- Feitan: Another Phantom Troupe member, kept as is.
- Golden Finger Note: The "Indestructible" hand property tied to the tattoo is becoming more central to his combat style.