A Hint of Decision

"Leave me alone!"

Hawk made his decision.

"Moyu, don't come any closer!"

Hawk's voice was hoarse and desperate, thick blood frothing from the corners of his mouth.

He knew full well Genbul's close-combat prowess, and he realized that his own crippled, collapsed form would force Moyu into a melee with Genbul.

If that happened, Moyu—an Emitter—would lose his advantage.

It was precisely because he understood this that Hawk burned with anxiety, wanting Moyu to abandon him.

"..."

Hearing Hawk's desperate cry, Moyu fell silent, his gaze sharp as he glanced at Hawk.

He hoped that brief exchange of looks could convey his message.

Then, faster than Genbul, Moyu stepped sideways to block Hawk, inevitably exposing himself within Genbul's attack range.

An Emitter should avoid close combat as much as possible to maximize their strengths.

That was common sense.

Of course, the key point was that this brat had placed himself in front of Hawk.

That meant, from this moment on, the kid bore the restriction of "cannot dodge."

Genbul's expression was cold as he channeled his Nen and threw a punch at Moyu.

"..."

Moyu's gaze was heavy; under Genbul's watch, he assumed a defensive stance.

But the next moment.

Moyu suddenly crouched down.

"Hm?"

As Moyu lowered himself, Genbul's eyes reflected Hawk forming a Nen bullet in his right palm.

Shwoosh—!

The condensed orb of Nen shot from Hawk's palm, in an instant passing over Moyu's head, aimed straight at Genbul's face.

Genbul's pupils contracted sharply. He hastily aborted his attack, turning his fist into a palm, barely deflecting Hawk's Nen bullet with the back of his hand.

At the same time.

Moyu surged upward, doing his utmost to channel the "Chi" from his legs into the soles of his feet.

His mastery of the Four Major Principles had skyrocketed, allowing him to instinctively use "Gyo"—a technique he hadn't yet grasped before.

His foot, wreathed in a mass of "Chi," kicked viciously toward Genbul's groin.

At that moment—

Though Genbul had diverted most of his Nen to deflect Hawk's bullet, roughly 30% of his Manifestation Aura still coated the rest of his body.

Facing Moyu's cruel kick aimed at his crotch, Genbul, with his heightened focus, reacted in time. His left hand dropped, precisely catching Moyu's incoming foot.

First, his right hand shifted from fist to palm to deflect Hawk's Nen bullet, then his left hand moved to block the kick while restraining Moyu.

The entire sequence was seamless.

"You almost fooled me..."

The thought flickered through Genbul's mind as he prepared to slam Moyu into the ground with a single palm strike.

But in that instant.

The shadow Moyu had released earlier rose from the ground. Its Mimicry-formed hand gripped Cole's fallen shortsword and stabbed straight for Genbul's rear.

At this point, Genbul had committed all his focus to countering Moyu and Hawk's combined assault, leaving only a thin layer of Manifestation Aura on his buttocks.

Pfft!

The shortsword slid in without resistance, piercing Genbul's rear, then the blade twisted sharply.

Blood burst forth!

"Ahhh!"

The sudden, searing pain made the veins on Genbul's neck bulge as he screamed.

"****"

He roared a curse, twisting his waist to hurl Moyu violently at the shadow attacker.

Moyu gritted his teeth against the pain shooting from his ankle, mentally commanding the shadow to release the shortsword, revert to its normal state, and flatten against the ground.

Whoosh—!

A sharp whistle of wind.

Moyu was swung half a circle by Genbul like a club.

In that exceptionally brief exchange, Hawk, trying to help Moyu break free, fought through his dizziness and condensed another Nen bullet, blasting it into Genbul's back.

Boom!

The Nen exploded.

Genbul grunted, sent flying by the impact force, and at the same time released Moyu's ankle.

Without Genbul's hold, Moyu flew straight out, crashing heavily into the ground and plowing a trench through the earth.

"Cough, cough..."

Moyu lay on the ground, spitting a few mouthfuls of bloody saliva into the trench, then turned his gaze to Genbul, who had a blood-dripping short knife stuck in his ass.

Aiming the final killing move at Genbul's asshole...

It wasn't because he had a particular fondness for it, but because the asshole was one of the few spots where an attack could reach directly inside the body.

That knife just now—

It should have pierced straight through Genbul's rectum, then torn a gash in his ileum.

On top of that, he had twisted the blade a full turn at the end, so the lacerated wound would surely trigger severe internal bleeding.

This was also the key condition for Moyu to win against Genbul after exhausting all his trump cards.

"You little shit..."

Genbul barely steadied himself, enduring the searing pain as he pulled the short knife out of his ass.

The tearing agony made him let out a few low whimpers.

"How dare you..."

Genbul gripped the blood-dripping short knife, his expression twisted with fury as he glared at Moyu.

A brutal killing intent leaked out through his aura.

Moyu, naturally, wasn't affected by that killing intent aura, and was even happy to see Genbul lose his composure.

He quickly glanced at Cheadle's side, where the battle was making no progress, his heart sinking slightly, then moved over to Hawk's side.

"Cheadle... what's going on with her?"

"Cough, cough..."

Hawk coughed a few times, looking at Moyu with a mix of pride and relief in his eyes, then explained: "It's normal for you to find it strange, cough, cough... Cheadle's talent is outstanding, but she hasn't put those talents to use in combat."

"No wonder."

Moyu instantly understood the reason.

He could clearly see that Cheadle was handling the combined assault of two enemies with ease, and logically, she should have been gradually gaining the upper hand and opening up the situation.

But here he was, having already taken out one and, with Hawk's help, severely wounded another, while Cheadle's side was still stalled.

So she was a non-combat-type ability user...

Once he realized this, Moyu felt a deep sense of dread.

He had no more trump cards left. Even if he could drag Genbul down, as long as Cheadle couldn't pose a real threat to the other two Nen users...

Then, with just himself as he was now, forget protecting Hawk—even saving his own skin would be a problem.

"The situation is still really bad..."

Moyu sighed.

If he abandoned Hawk right now, he could escape this danger.

But some things—

Cannot be done.

"Hawk, can you hold on?"

Moyu stared intently at Genbul, calculating his next move.

Luckily, Perception had boosted his proficiency in the Four Major Principles, giving him more capacity to respond.

"Moyu."

Hawk looked at Moyu's back, his chest heaving.

"Hm?"

Moyu responded, but didn't turn around.

A look of resolve appeared in Hawk's eyes, and he spoke with effort through his ragged breaths:

"I... won't be like Cheadle, hesitating and overthinking. Moyu, I... no matter what, I won't let anything happen to you... If it's now... I don't have to worry about that Price anymore... Moyu, you have to live, okay."

"Hm?"

Moyu's expression shifted.

On the other side.

Cheadle had naturally noticed the battle situation on Moyu's side.

While feeling surprised, she was also burning with anxiety.

Facing the two Heavenly Stem members of the Qinglin Squad, she truly lacked the killing power to finish the fight.