What Are You Waiting For?

A confident judgment, followed by execution that moved at the first whiff of wind.

How infuriating...

It was as if he'd accidentally flashed the corner of his underwear, and someone had guessed the entire style.

The key point was that the other party was just a brat.

But the real question was—

What exactly had happened to this kid?

A strong sense of dissonance surged in Zazan's heart, and then Killing Intent quietly surfaced.

Mission and duty were important, but he couldn't stomach this kind of sudden situation filled with "weirdness and the unknown."

It was irritating, and unsettling.

Should he kill him...

Zazan fell silent, glanced at Moro's bleeding knee, and couldn't help but frown.

This "blood bag" had high priority; for now, he'd better just observe.

After all, he'd already carved open a wound, barely meeting the conditions to activate his ability—it just meant he'd have to "wait" a little longer.

So he'd patiently wait a few more minutes.

Once the effect of the Data Flying Knife's ability kicked in, he could directly control Moro.

In a brief span of time, Zazan's Killing Intent flared, then subsided, and finally he settled on a course of action.

"They say three strikes and you're out—I think that fits here just fine."

Zazan reined in his emotions, casually fiddling with the flying knife in his hand as his voice turned cold: "So don't think about running. That way, you might still have a chance to live."

"Mm, they say listen to advice and you'll eat your fill—I think that fits here just fine too."

Moro stared intently at the fluctuations of Zazan's aura, speaking calmly: "So I'm not thinking about running. That way, you might still have a chance to catch me."

"..."

The corner of Zazan's mouth twitched.

If it weren't for the constraints of his so-called duty and the need to wait for his ability's conditions to be met...

The knife in his left hand would have already flown at Moro, and he wouldn't be wasting time trading quips here.

Ever since jumping out of the transport vehicle, Moro had been observing Zazan's aura.

Some of a person's thoughts and emotions sometimes showed through in the fluctuations of their aura.

Skilled people, of course, wouldn't let their aura leak such information.

But Zazan clearly wasn't at that level yet.

The shift in Killing Intent earlier had been seen clearly by Moro.

This meant that Zazan's rule of "don't damage the goods" could be adapted to the situation.

So Moro believed Zazan's statement was serious, and he completely abandoned the idea of using Zazan's restraint to find a chance to escape.

After all, the risk between holding back in pursuit and going all-out was on a completely different level.

He could only... solve the problem head-on.

Moro consciously spread his aura evenly across his entire body.

Though he'd opened his pores in a hurry, his adaptation speed wasn't slow, and the synchronization between his body and aura was tightening steadily.

At this rate, he probably didn't need to worry about any "delay" in the synchronization and feedback between his aura and body.

That was important... because his margin for error was very low.

Moro kept his eyes fixed on Zazan as he thought to himself.

Both sides on the field had a motive to "wait," so the rugged mountain road where the transport truck was parked suddenly grew quiet.

Moro was waiting for the coordination between his body and aura to adapt, lowering the chance of mistakes.

Zazan, having seized the initiative, preferred to resolve the problem without bloodshed.

So in this slightly strange atmosphere, neither side even tried to break it, each maintaining an odd mutual understanding.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes...

As time passed, the mindsets of Moro and Zazan began to shift.

Zazan, believing he had the upper hand and held the initiative, saw Moro staying still and didn't waste much thought on it.

All he had to do was wait for his ability to activate, and then the problem would be solved immediately.

But Moro was different; he had more to consider.

On the surface, in terms of raw strength, the other party was undoubtedly stronger.

Yet ever since the flying knife attack, Moro had realized that the other party didn't seem to have any sense of urgency about "time."

That was the problem.

I was waiting for a chance to fight—so what was he waiting for?

Moro's gaze swept past the opponent's left hand, which was gripping a throwing knife.

The probability of a left-handed person being a Conjuration specialization was high, but that argument could only serve as a reference.

Another characteristic of the Conjuration specialization was the subconscious tendency to gather more Nen in the dominant hand.

But the accuracy of that judgment depended on the Conjuration user not having activated their ability yet.

When he had jumped out of the carriage and turned back to stay on guard earlier, the opponent already had a throwing knife in hand.

Moreover, judging by the bulging outline beneath the opponent's jacket, there were likely several throwing knives hidden inside.

Also, after leaving the carriage, he had deliberately paid attention to the situation inside—that throwing knife was still there...

Although the possibility of the Conjured item being plural couldn't be ruled out, based on the current information, the likelihood that the opponent's throwing knife was a Conjured item was very low.

This also ruled out the possibility that the Conjured item possessed special abilities, thus temporarily eliminating the need to consider the risks involved—such as using a wound as a trigger to achieve some desired ability effect.

And from the analysis results, although he leaned toward the more optimistic side, still...

Having immersed himself in the antique industry, a world of deceit and treachery, not only had it created the opportunity for Moro to develop the "Deceptive Flying Stars" ability, but it had also taught him one thing.

That was, on the basis of opposing interests, any idea or goal the other party revealed through words or actions was inevitably the outcome he himself did not want to see.

So even if Moro couldn't extract more useful information from the available data, he realized that the gains from continuing to wait were likely outweighed by the risks.

Given the current compatibility, he should be able to skip the step of laying a solid foundation and smoothly use "Deceptive Flying Stars," right?

Should... be able to, right?

Moro didn't have a hundred percent certainty either, but when the wind was against him, where was the chance to verify?

As his thoughts turned and he made a decision, Moro first locked onto the fallen pistol closer to him, then, with his current level of Nen, condensed Nen in the palm of his right hand.

A faint fluorescent green light emerged like a sprouting seed, revealing itself in a gentle posture.

On the side of the freight car.

Zazan's eyes flashed with shock.

Nen ability...?!

He had only just opened his pores not long ago...!

In an instant, alarm bells rang in Zazan's mind, and the shock in his eyes was replaced by Killing Intent.

At that moment, Moro successfully activated the "Deceptive Flying Stars" ability.

A marble-sized fluorescent green Nen Bullet shot out from his palm, heading straight for Zazan's chest.

Uncertain of Moro's specific ability, Zazan saw that the flying star wasn't particularly fast, so he sidestepped to dodge it.

At the same time.

Moro picked up the fallen pistol, aimed at Zazan, and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

Bang, bang, bang...

Eleven bullets flew toward Zazan in succession.

Zazan's eyes turned cold. He leaped and shifted his position again, dodging the incoming bullets.

"P922, twelve rounds of ammunition."

After dodging the bullets, Zazan slightly raised his throwing knife, walking slowly toward Moro as he said coldly, "You fired eleven shots just now. Were you deliberately saving one, thinking you could turn the tables? But what I'm more curious about is..."

As he spoke, the Killing Intent in Zazan's eyes grew even stronger.

"You're very familiar with firearms, and with Nen abilities... so, who the hell are you!?"

"Bang!"

In response to Zazan came the last bullet from Moro's gun.

But at the same time the gunshot rang out, Zazan hurled his throwing knife.

The bullet, wrapped in scorching energy, and the throwing knife, wreathed in Nen, crossed paths in midair, each heading toward its target.

Zazan's face was expressionless. Against just one bullet, he was confident he could withstand it with his body, and the thrown knife, he was sure, would kill Moro.

The situation had far exceeded his expectations, and he no longer cared about how to report to his superiors. With a cold gaze, he watched the knife fly toward Moro's life force, while simultaneously channeling Nen to block the bullet.

Thud—

But before he could see the knife pierce Moro's body, a sudden pain struck his back. The ensuing impact instantly blurred his consciousness, and a torrent of blood spewed from his mouth.

"Wh—what..."

The unexpected attack shook Zazan's mind as his consciousness faded.

On the other side.

The tip of the Nen-wreathed throwing knife had already pierced Moro's skin.

Yet it could advance no further, and in an instant, it turned into a mist-like form, slowly dissipating into the air.

"Phew."

With the dust settled, Moro lowered his gun-wielding arm.

Even now, he still couldn't determine Zazan's Nen ability type.

But he was very grateful that, at this moment, he was facing someone like Zazan.

If it had been a Nen user with a different personality, he might have had to die once more.