Hisoka, his wounds already treated, somehow slipped over to Coleman's side from beneath the stage. Grinning playfully, he said, "You've improved quite a bit, Coleman."
Coleman kept his eyes fixed on the match onstage. "You too. I thought I could kill you."
Even though they had used less than thirty percent of their strength in that match.
In terms of technique and speed alone, it could be called the pinnacle of their current hand-to-hand combat abilities.
One slight mistake would have meant eternal damnation.
Losing an arm or a leg would have been a minor issue.
Yet the two of them had "coordinated" exquisitely, trading offense and defense in perfect balance.
Hisoka giggled. "Then, when we go to the back mountain..."
A glint flashed through his eyes. Of course, he hoped this now-ripened apple would bring him an unexpected surprise.
He was also glad that his younger self had made such a friend.
It had made his path of growth far less lonely.
So now, Hisoka desperately wanted to know just how far this ripe apple had come.
Was it already ready to be picked and "eaten"?
Malice churned, then vanished in an instant.
Licking his lips, Hisoka awaited his answer.
Ignoring the scorching gaze behind him, Coleman slowly said, "If you want to die, I can grant your wish."
"No, of course not. No one wants to die." Hisoka declined to be set up and kindly suggested, "I'm just saying, you could take it a little more seriously."
Take it more seriously?
Coleman sneered inwardly.
Wouldn't a serious assassin simply kill the other person?
Still, he knew that Hisoka merely wanted a fair, earnest fight.
Normally, Coleman would call a stop after an hour of fighting.
For no other reason than that fighting Hisoka was an utterly meaningless affair.