Wonderful, Hisoka.

Hisoka's tightly linked offensive rhythm had, in a sense, truly forced Moyu into danger.

Of course, Hisoka had never expected this attack alone to finish Moyu off.

What he wanted was to establish an advantage first, then gradually widen it.

But what he had expected even less was—

That Black Blade was actually a conjured weapon, and its effortless dismissal and retrieval had torn straight through all his careful preparations.

The blood spraying into the air reflected in Hisoka's astonished eyes, while his slightly muddled thoughts formed images that flashed through his mind.

Moyu effortlessly defeating his opponents in his previous ten matches without ever drawing his blade.

Moyu launching his scabbard at him as soon as this match began.

Moyu hiding the shadow medium for his Teleportation inside the scabbard.

The final image froze on the Black Blade dissolving into scattered motes of light, only to reform an instant later.

Despite having already mastered Nen Clone and Teleportation abilities primarily based on the Emitter category, Moyu still had the capacity to develop a Conjurer ability.

And it was just a long blade with no special abilities whatsoever.

Leaving aside whether such a choice was sensible, how could he possibly have so much Nen capacity?

But more importantly...

"Was it all to mislead me?"

Hisoka fell backward amid the scattering blood, his gaze passing over Moyu to the scabbard embedded at an angle in the arena floor.

The blade was conjured, but the scabbard was not.

So,

This man...

Had deliberately found a roughly fitting scabbard, then carried his conjured blade through ten matches at Heavens Arena...

All to prepare for this moment?

As though he had already "foreseen" this moment back when Hisoka first noticed him?

No, impossible!

This bastard—

Was just plain devious!

Hisoka's eyes trembled rapidly, and