The silver-haired boy released his legs and flipped down from the branch.
When he landed, a piece of candy had appeared in his hand.
The wrapper spun twice around his fingertips before he pinched one corner.
His training clothes were dusty, and he still wore a pair of heavy ankle boots. Even after hanging upside down for so long, his breathing remained steady.
Upon hearing the command, Mike took two steps back.
It did not retreat far. Its head hung beneath the canopy as it continued staring at Bai Zhu.
Killua was studying him as well.
First, his hands.
His fingertips were intact, without the calluses left by long-term training.
Then, his stance.
His center of gravity was loose, and his left leg was still trembling slightly. It was probably an aftereffect of pushing the gate earlier.
There was nothing special about his breathing, either.
No matter how he looked at him, Bai Zhu was an ordinary person with unremarkable physical strength.
Yet outside the Gate of Hell, the seven fresh drag marks remained.
Killua popped the candy into his mouth.
"What did you use to open the gate just now?"
Bai Zhu's hand, hidden behind his back, immediately stopped shaking.
"Pure physical strength."
Milluki exposed him from the side.
"He pushed three times before that, and the gate didn't even budge."
"I was communicating with the gate."
"Your soles were throwing sparks while you communicated."
"A little friction is unavoidable during communication."
Killua glanced down at the cracked stone slabs, then looked up at Bai Zhu.
"There's no sound coming from you."
Bai Zhu touched his ear.
"Aren't I talking right now?"
"Not that."
Killua stepped half a pace forward.
"People who have been trained have fixed habits when they walk, breathe, and use their muscles. But your body