Deceptive Flying Stars

Half a year.

That was how long Moro had possessed his Nen ability.

In terms of skill, displayed aura volume, and even latent aura capacity...

Moro was far inferior to the veterans standing before him. Worse still, he lacked combat experience with Nen.

He—

Had never really pursued much.

If he had to put it plainly, it was just to live well, eat well, and sleep well.

So he never stirred up trouble on his own, merely earning money to repay Molena while quietly refining his Nen ability.

As for fighting, he had sparred with Saixin a few times as a Reinforcement-type user.

But that was nothing more than light scuffles.

Now, at this life-or-death juncture, did he regret not spending more time honing his strength?

Moro felt no regret. Or rather, he had no spare thoughts to dwell on such things.

He only knew... that now he had to rely on his Nen ability to find a sliver of survival in an almost certain death situation.

But before activating his ability, he needed to create an opening—

In the brief silence, Moro's mind raced.

Chrollo had stopped Uvogin's attack out of curiosity, but Moro didn't believe Chrollo would patiently wait for his answer.

After all, Pakunoda's memory-reading ability existed—they could capture him alive and pry out every hidden secret.

And even if he directly named Chrollo's Nen ability and its Vow and Restriction, it probably wouldn't break Chrollo's focus.

So how could he use this limited "chance to speak"?

What words could strike the hearts of these people?

Facing the threat of death, Moro's brain cells burned wildly.

Then a name surfaced naturally—

Sarasa.

The owner of that name was the very catalyst for the Phantom Troupe's formation, and a lingering pain in the hearts of Chrollo and the others.

"Sarasa."

Without any hesitation, Moro shouted the name that had been buried deep in the hearts of Chrollo, Pakunoda, and Shalnark.

The street, the wind and rain.

A name that should never have appeared at this moment, transmitted in a surging, boiling manner, violently shook the minds of Chrollo, Pakunoda, and Shalnark.

How did this boy before them know Sarasa's name?

Just as their doubts began to stir, Moro made his move.

"Deceptive Flying Stars."

Moro raised both hands, condensing an egg-sized fluorescent green Nen Bullet in each palm.

Then the Nen Bullets left his hands, flying straight toward the momentarily distracted Pakunoda and Shalnark.

Strike at the opening!

The fluorescent green Nen Bullets reached Pakunoda and Shalnark in an instant.

However, Uvogin, who had no reaction to the name Sarasa, pushed Shalnark away at the critical moment, letting him dodge the incoming Nen Bullet.

Almost simultaneously, Chrollo, with his extraordinary mental fortitude, steadied himself at the last second and reached out to pull Pakunoda aside.

Both fluorescent green Nen Bullets missed.

At the same time.

Moro was sprinting toward one side of the sidewalk.

The person guarding the back door...

From the surging, violent Killing Intent, it was definitely a frontline combat member of the Phantom Troupe.

So until that person showed themselves, Moro would never willingly head that way.

His only escape route was to either side of the sidewalk!

He glanced back quickly at Chrollo's group.

The Deceptive Flying Stars had missed...

At the root of it, his "Emission" wasn't refined enough to release the ability faster.

But he couldn't deny that in this brief minute of contact, Moro had truly recognized Chrollo's exceptional nature.

These named characters from the original story were mostly not to be trifled with.

Moro withdrew his gaze. Even though the Deceptive Flying Stars had missed, he felt no disappointment.

His Deceptive Flying Stars had a second phase...

"Sorry."

On the empty street, Shalnark came to his senses, his brow slightly furrowed.

Uvogin shot Shalnark a strange look, then glanced at Moro sprinting through the rain, lifting his leg to give chase.

Chrollo's gaze was icy cold. In a single flash, he overtook Uvogin, his form cutting through layers of rain and mist as he pursued Moro.

Shalnark and Pakunoda steadied their minds.

Doubts still lingered, but as long as they captured Moro alive, all those doubts would find answers.

They followed close behind.

Ahead.

Moro glanced back again at Chrollo and the others chasing straight at him.

"Almost there..."

Calculating the time in his mind, Moro raised his right hand, ready to welcome the Flying Stars' return.

His Deceptive Flying Stars ability was a conjuration-manipulation composite type, with an attack range of only a hundred meters.

When the Flying Stars reached their maximum distance, they would freeze in midair and stall for one to five seconds.

Moro could set the exact stall time before releasing the Flying Stars.

When the set stall time ended, the Flying Stars' power, speed, and size would all double, then reverse course and home in on Moro like a tracking trajectory.

The power multiplication effect of the second phase extension was precisely the vow effect of this ability.

The accompanying restriction was—

The returning Flying Stars would also injure Moro.

In other words, if nothing else blocked the Flying Stars, Moro would have to find a way to dodge them or tank the hit.

What drove Moro to set such a restriction was the growth ring on the back of his right hand.

Under the cover of that growth ring, his entire hand back was as hard as a Black Tortoise shell...

So he could use his hand back to deflect the returning Flying Stars.

Timing it right, Moro adjusted his stance without warning.

Amid the unending wind and rain, two faint sounds rang out abruptly.

Then, two deep fluorescent green lights pierced the rainy night, carrying a dangerous aura as they flew toward Pakunoda and Shalnark.

It happened so suddenly, and because Chrollo and Uvogin were chasing ahead, this time Pakunoda and Shalnark received no help.

When the power-doubled Flying Stars struck, Shalnark barely reacted, managing to twist his body slightly.

The Flying Star hit his waist and abdomen, blasting away a large chunk of flesh, looking as if a bloody maw had torn into him.

Pakunoda was a beat slower.

Blood splattered as her face jolted. The Flying Star punched a bloody hole straight through her upper body, and her instantly weakened frame pitched forward onto the ground.

The sudden turn of events stalled Chrollo and Uvogin's pursuit.

Seeing his success, Moro gathered over half his manifested aura into his legs as fast as possible and kept sprinting forward.

Do what you can and leave the rest to fate.

He had done everything he could—

If he still couldn't escape, then he'd accept it.

Just as he thought this, a fleeting image of a face brushed past the corner of his eye. He could vaguely make out a sinister expression and a boiling rage in those eyes.

Feitan?!

The thought had barely surfaced when Moro felt a chill on the bridge of his nose. Then his consciousness, like a string about to snap, stripped away his sensory perception at a speed that seemed slow but was actually lightning fast.

In his final moment, a self-directed question surfaced in Moro's mind.

Am I... dead?

Cold. Shaking.

Moro's eyes snapped open. What greeted him were rows of vertical, rusted iron bars.

It looked like an iron cage.

"Where is this...?"

Taking in his surroundings, Moro couldn't help but freeze.

The sensation of life being severed still lingered, but it was quickly replaced by some memories.

He had returned to the moment he first crossed over a year ago!