There was no thunderous crack of shattering bones, nor any gruesome spray of flesh and blood.
Lin Yan's fingertips slipped like a slippery fish, avoiding hard bone and muscle with flawless precision and piercing the only opening Johns left as he exerted his strength-the meridian junction beneath his armpit.
"Pfft."
An almost inaudible, muffled sound, like a finger poking through damp window paper, echoed clearly through the deathly silent stone chamber.
Time seemed to freeze at that instant.
Johns's face, twisted with excitement and ferocity, froze in midair. The crazed bloodlust in his eyes abruptly congealed as though doused with ice water, replaced by utter shock and bewilderment.
He felt as though he had struck not fingers, but an indestructible steel needle heated red-hot.
No, it was worse than that.
An indescribable current, both searing and razor-sharp, burrowed into his body through that tiny point of contact.
Like a venomous snake brought to life, it surged madly upstream along the meridians in his arm.
Everywhere it passed, an invisible, densely concentrated energy forcibly tore apart and shredded nerves, blood vessels, and muscle tissue from within!
"Urgh..."
Johns's wildly charging body seized up, instantly losing all balance.
He tried to raise his left hand to retaliate, only to discover in horror that the searing current invading his body was spreading along his spine to the rest of him.
His thick right arm drooped limply like a noodle stripped of its bones, and half his body instantly fell into a strange paralysis.
The agony came a full second late.
Then it erupted in his brain like an exploding volcano!
"AAAAAH-!"
A piercing scream burst out.
Clutching his ruined arm, Johns staggered backward, his body convulsing violently. From the outside, his right arm bore no wounds, not even a trace of blood.
But he could clearly feel that the muscle fibers, nerves, and bones within had all snapped apart, inch by inch, utterly shredded by that burst of true qi!
What was this power?
What kind of monster was this?
He had killed over a hundred people, witnessed all sorts of deaths, and fought countless powerful opponents, but he had never encountered such a bizarre, overwhelming method of attack!
It left the skin untouched, yet destroyed everything from within!
Lin Yan gave his opponent no chance to catch his breath.
Using Silent Step, propelled by the true qi within him, he slipped soundlessly up to Johns like a phantom.
He used no brutal punches or kicks, nor did he assume any murderous stance. He merely raised his right hand again, holding his fingers together like a sword. This time, he aimed straight between Johns's brows.
His fingertips had yet to arrive, but the surrounding dust seemed to be cleaved by an invisible edge, scattering violently in all directions.
That supremely concentrated pressure, seemingly capable of piercing the soul, already made Johns's eyes sting as though pricked by needles.
This was not merely "true qi." It was the most primal, purest suppression of a lower life-form by the aura of a higher one.
At that moment, Johns's mental defenses shattered completely.
He raised his head and looked into Lin Yan's eyes.
What a pair of eyes they were.
Calm, indifferent, unfathomably deep.
Johns could see no emotion in those eyes-no anger, no hatred, not even killing intent.
There was only a lofty indifference that regarded all living things as disposable straw dogs.
At that moment, Johns felt he was facing not a human, but a being even more monstrous than himself.
He had spent his entire life savoring the pleasure of dismembering others, feeding on their fear. Now, for the first time, he experienced that irresistible terror rising from the depths of his own soul.
That inhuman pressure reminded him of the enormous magical beast he had encountered in a forest in his distant childhood, licking its claws with indifference after tearing his parents to pieces.
Thud!
Under everyone's deathly silent gaze, Johns, "The Dissector," the serial killer whose name struck terror into countless hearts, buckled at the knees and dropped straight to the ground before Lin Yan.
He trembled violently, cold sweat soaking his entire body. Meaningless rasping sounds escaped his throat, like a feral dog with a broken spine.
"I... I... surrender..."
With every ounce of strength he had, he forced those words through clenched teeth.
The entire stone chamber was so quiet that a pin dropping could have been heard.
Leorio gaped and rubbed his eyes hard, seriously wondering whether his nerves had made him hallucinate.
That monster... had just... knelt?
And surrendered?
Shock and contemplation flickered in Kurapika's eyes.
Unlike Leorio, he did not make such a fuss. He was more concerned with the technique Lin Yan had used-a terrifying method that spared an enemy's life yet could instantly strip him of his ability to fight, even destroying his will.
"Hey."
Killua came over with his hands resting behind his head. His posture looked casual, but his catlike eyes were fixed on Lin Yan's right hand, hidden inside his sleeve.
"What was that... weird move you just used? That was nothing like plain muscle power."
Killua lowered his voice, a rare hint of gravity and curiosity in his tone. "I've seen a similar 'aura' from my older brother, but he needs needles as a medium.
"But you-for that instant, your fingers were practically red-hot steel needles."
He paused, seemingly trying to find more precise words for that phenomenon that defied common sense.
"It felt... like you forced all the strength in your body, even your breathing and willpower, into a single needle's eye and drove it out."
Killua narrowed his eyes. "If that were an ordinary assassination technique, the bones in your fingers should've shattered under an impact that strong. Is your body built differently from a normal person's?"
He was, after all, an unusual member of an assassin family. Though he had yet to open his aura nodes, the instincts honed over years on the edge of life and death had allowed him to detect the intensely concentrated nature of Lin Yan's finger strike.
That pressure had even reminded him of the brother at home whose presence weighed on him most.
Lin Yan turned and glanced at Killua.
His eyes were as calm as an ancient spring, betraying neither excitement at defeating a powerful foe nor panic at having his secret glimpsed.
Seeing the undisguised curiosity in Killua's eyes, he offered no direct answer, only a few indifferent words:
"Practice makes perfect."
"Tch. Another brush-off."
Killua curled his lip and turned away in annoyance, but his hands clenched unconsciously inside his pockets.
He knew perfectly well that this was no realm "practice makes perfect" could explain. It was a system of power he had never encountered, one not even recorded by his family. It remained inconspicuous, yet when unleashed, possessed an edge that could pierce anything.
Lin Yan... just where did this guy come from?
Killua wondered, the probing look in his eyes growing stronger.
Just then, the referee's voice finally broke the deathly silence.
"Winner of the sixth match: Lin Yan! With a final score of four to two, the examinees' team wins!"
With the referee's announcement, the stone door above them slowly opened, revealing the passage to the next stage.
Lin Yan withdrew his fingers and placed his hand behind his back, his expression as relaxed and untroubled as ever.
In truth, he was forcibly suppressing the dull pain in his meridians, which burned and prickled like needles.
That Sword Finger strike had looked effortless, but it had drained nearly thirty percent of the true qi in his dantian embryo. Forcibly compressing true qi into a single point and releasing it placed an enormous burden on his current meridians.
I was still pushing too hard.
Lin Yan sighed inwardly. This was only a crude application of true qi. If I could someday find a divine blade capable of bearing my Dao heart and turn this sharpness into true sword intent, how terrifying would its power be?
Maintaining his inscrutable air, he walked calmly back to the group under their awed gazes.
They passed through the stone door, but before they could celebrate, Lippo's voice rang out over the loudspeakers.
"Congratulations on clearing the competitive portion of the Trick Tower. However, you lost fifty hours in your fifth match. Under the rules, you must spend fifty hours confined in the small room before the finish line before you can proceed."
"Whaaat?!"
Leorio let out a miserable wail and collapsed to the floor.
But rules were rules. Before they could protest, Lippo's subordinates had "escorted" them into a cramped, sealed stone chamber.
With a bang, the heavy stone door closed behind them.
Before you continue