Light's Silence

Only after facing Franklin head-on did Light truly understand the weight carried by an "A-Rank Wanted Criminal."

Before, he had thought the Phantom Troupe's habit of operating separately was overly arrogant, practically giving Bounty Hunters the chance to pick them off one by one.

But now—

The reason the Phantom Troupe could be so brazen ultimately came down to the confidence granted by their strength.

No wonder they had remained standing all this time despite their infamous reputation.

If any other band of thieves had dared to split up, Bounty Hunters would have long since picked them apart.

Today's battle had made Light recognize his own shortcomings, as well as the Phantom Troupe's strength.

It also made him marvel once more at Moyu's growth.

"Really... you've become strong."

With nearly every reunion after a parting, Moyu always redefined Light's understanding of "talent."

Before so-called extraordinary talent, perhaps hard work truly lost its meaning.

Amid his complicated feelings, Light inexplicably grew a little pessimistic.

But he quickly adjusted himself.

Because he knew that Moyu's current strength was not due to talent alone; it was also tied to Moyu's desperate, relentless effort.

"Nicely done."

Having composed himself, Light took Moyu's outstretched hand, a faint smile appearing on his bloodstained face.

Moyu smiled and pulled Light to his feet.

"Hurry up and treat those wounds. You look pretty horrifying."

"It's fine. I've been feeling pent-up lately, so this is a good chance to let some blood out."

Light steadied himself after getting up and waved dismissively, looking utterly unconcerned.

Moyu glanced at his pale face, which seemed to have resulted from excessive blood loss, and had every reason to suspect that Light was putting on a brave front.

"Anyway..."

Light looked toward the spot where Rice and Franklin had vanished into thin air