Killua's Assassin Instinct

"You?"

The scar-faced prisoner looked Killua up and down, undisguised contempt in his eyes.

A brat who wasn't even as thick as his thigh? With silver hair and casual clothes, he looked like some rich kid out on a picnic.

"Hahahaha!"

Scarface burst out laughing as though he had heard the funniest joke in the world. The other prisoners behind him joined in.

"Brat, this isn't a place for you. Go home and get your mommy to nurse you!"

"Let him fight! The boss can crush him and blow off some steam for the rest of us!"

"That's right! Show him what kind of place this is!"

Killua's expression didn't change in the face of their unrestrained mockery.

He simply stood there quietly, hands in his pockets, as though nothing around him had anything to do with him.

But through Lin Yan's Qi Observation, the situation looked entirely different.

The scar-faced prisoner's aura was a dark red that signified brutality and cunning, with a texture like clotted blood. It looked intimidating.

But the flow of that aura was chaotic, full of openings beneath its imposing exterior-a paper tiger putting on a show.

The aura inside Killua took an entirely different form.

It was energy compressed and refined to an extreme, normally contained within his body and almost impossible to detect.

Yet Lin Yan could sense its true nature: sharp as a scalpel, calm as ice that had endured for ten thousand years.

There wasn't a single unnecessary fluctuation. Every trace of energy existed for one purpose alone-the most efficient, most lethal killing.

A chill passed through Lin Yan's heart. This was a true assassin.

A monster steeped in killing techniques since childhood.

"Hey, are you done laughing?" Killua picked at his ear impatiently. "You're too loud. If we're fighting, hurry up. I'm in a rush."

"You brat! You have a death wish!"

Scarface's smile vanished, replaced by a vicious scowl. Nothing infuriated him more than someone looking at him like he was trash.

"Since you're so eager to die, I'll oblige!"

Scarface roared and drove off the ground, his massive body charging straight at Killua like an out-of-control truck.

His fist, as big as a cooking pot, whistled through the air toward Killua's head.

He would smash the brat's head open with one punch and show his companions what happened to anyone who looked down on him!

"Killua!" Gon cried out anxiously.

Kurapika and Leorio also widened their eyes, their hearts in their throats.

Yet faced with that devastating blow, Killua didn't even take his hands out of his pockets.

He merely shifted slightly to one side as the rush of air from the punch pressed against his face.

With that simple movement, Scarface's heavy punch brushed past his body and slammed into the stone wall behind him.

Boom!

Stone chips flew, leaving a distinct fist-shaped dent in the wall.

Scarface was startled when his blow missed. What incredible reflexes!

Without time to think, he twisted at the waist and curled his other hand into a claw, slashing toward Killua's throat with a shrill whistle.

But Killua moved like a weightless phantom, drifting lightly backward and making his attack miss again.

From start to finish, Killua never stepped more than three feet from his original position.

He was like a reed swaying in a gale. No matter how the wind blew, he effortlessly shed all its force.

"Too slow." Killua yawned, looking bored. "Is that all you've got, old man? You're like a turtle."

"You're dead!"

Utterly enraged, Scarface abandoned all technique and began swinging both fists wildly, unleashing a storm of attacks on Killua.

Fists, elbows, knees, legs-every part of his body became a weapon, stirring fierce gusts that completely engulfed Killua.

Watching from below, Leorio's heart pounded. "Those... those attacks are incredible! Is Killua going to be okay?"

"No."

Kurapika stared fixedly at the fight, his voice dry. "Look at Killua's expression."

Leorio hurriedly took a closer look. Amid the barrage of fists, Killua showed no trace of tension. Instead, he wore a faint... amused smile.

Like an owner playing with a pet cat, he easily dodged every attack, even finding time to critique his opponent's movements.

"Not a bad move. Too bad your power's all over the place."

"Oh? Going for my legs? Too bad your center of gravity is too high."

"Tsk, tsk. You're getting slower."

The longer Scarface fought, the more alarmed and frustrated he became. He felt like an idiot fighting a ghost. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't even touch the edge of Killua's clothes.

And his opponent's effortless ease was the greatest insult of all.

Sweat began pouring from his forehead. His breathing grew heavier and heavier.

"What's wrong? Out of strength?" Killua stopped dodging and stood beyond Scarface's reach, tilting his head as he asked.

"Hah... hah... you... monster..." Scarface braced his hands on his knees and gasped for air.

At last, he realized that he and the brat before him weren't even in the same league.

"A monster? Thanks for the compliment."

Killua smiled, then finally took his hands out of his pockets.

In that same second, his eyes changed.

The amusement and ease vanished, replaced by an absolute, emotionless coldness.

"All right. Game over."

As the words left his mouth, Killua vanished.

"What?!"

Scarface's pupils contracted sharply. His vision blurred for an instant, and the silver-haired brat disappeared.

Oh no!

Alarm bells rang in his mind. He was just about to turn when a bone-deep chill came from behind him.

Stiffly, he lowered his head and saw a pale, slender hand protruding from his chest.

That hand held a heart that was still beating.

"You..."

Blood poured from Scarface's mouth. He tried to speak, but no sound came out. The light of life in his eyes rapidly faded.

Expressionless, Killua withdrew his hand and let Scarface's enormous body collapse limply to the floor like a heap of rotten meat.

He flicked the blood from his hand as though he had done something utterly trivial, then casually tossed the still-twitching heart onto the ground.

A deathly silence fell over the entire Arena.

At the sight of the corpse and heart on the ground, the remaining prisoners turned deathly pale, their legs going weak. Some collapsed outright, a foul stench of urine rising from their crotches.

The terror in their eyes was beyond words.

That wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter.

Leorio's mouth hung open, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets.

Looking at the utterly composed boy in the ring, he felt as though his entire worldview had been overturned.

Kurapika's face was also filled with shock and horror.

He had witnessed killing and punished enemies with his own hands, but he had never seen anyone take a life as effortlessly, casually, and matter-of-factly as Killua.

This went beyond his understanding of combat.

Gon stared wide-eyed at the still-beating heart in Killua's hand. His gaze held none of the fear Leorio and the others felt, only pure surprise and curiosity.

Standing at the back, Lin Yan was also shaken.

He had long known who Killua was and how the Zoldyck Family operated.

But witnessing this scene firsthand still delivered an immense visual and psychological shock.

Through Qi Observation, he had "seen" the entire process.

The instant Killua struck, the aura around his body condensed to its utmost limit. Every movement was precise down to the millimeter, without the slightest waste of energy.

He hadn't used brute force. He had used technique and a profound understanding of human anatomy to execute the deadliest possible attack in an instant.

This was the craft an assassin family had passed down for a hundred years.

"All right, done."

Killua stepped down from the platform and clapped his hands as though nothing had happened. "It's two to two now. Who's up next?"

As he spoke, he turned toward Gon.

Blood had yet to dry on Killua's fingers, and the lingering coldness in his eyes hadn't fully faded. He unconsciously drew his nails back a little, a barely perceptible flicker of unease crossing his heart-he feared seeing the same fear, disgust, or distance in Gon's eyes that he saw in everyone else's.

But Gon neither backed away nor avoided him.

He strode forward, his amber eyes astonishingly bright. There wasn't a trace of impurity in them; instead, they overflowed with pure wonder and curiosity.

"Wow! Killua, you're amazing!" Gon leaned close, staring at the fingers that had already returned to normal, and exclaimed excitedly,

"How did you do that move just now? Your fingers were even faster than a knife! That was so cool!"

Killua's stiff expression crumbled completely. A flicker of bewilderment crossed his catlike eyes, then melted into a relieved smile.

"Idiot. That's a secret family technique. I can't just teach it to anyone." Killua lifted his chin smugly, but couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from rising.

Watching from the side, Lin Yan felt ripples stir in his heart.

Through Qi Observation, he saw that Gon's aura remained a pure, transparent warmth. The bloody scene hadn't caused the slightest ripple or murkiness.

This kid...

Lin Yan marveled inwardly.

To ordinary people, Killua was a murderous monster. But to Gon, Killua was simply his friend, and that heart-snatching move was merely a "really cool skill" his friend possessed.

That acceptance of good and evil, so indiscriminate it bordered on chaos, and that purity utterly untroubled by the loss of life were, in a certain sense, even more "inhuman" than an assassin.

Lin Yan turned toward the prisoners across from them, his gaze becoming calm once more.