Sting: My Lovely Pain
Adarte's power is fueled by the raw feedback of metal on matter.
By striking anything solid, whether it is an opponent's skull, a brick wall, or the pavement beneath his boots, he allows the resulting vibration to rattle his bones and sting his flesh.
It was a great and suitable nen ability for him.
Because he refuses to protect his right hand with Nen, this physical agony is converted into aura and "routed" into his left leather glove.
Similar to Pain Packer, of Feitan Portor, but not too similar.
If an opponent is too fast to hit, Adarte can simply smash the ground or a nearby car to force-charge his glove.
The left glove serves as a pressurized reservoir of this pain and lesser level of vibration...
Adarte can release this stored energy in controlled bursts, turning his left hand into a heavy-duty piston for bone-breaking punches, a reinforced shield for blocking, or a source of internal stimulation to snap his muscles into high-speed action.
This creates a relentless combat rhythm where every missed swing that hits the environment still contributes to combat capability.
However, the cost is purely physical: his right hand must endure the literal "sting" of every impact.
The ability also can only be used with "a metal bat"; any other weapon could not be used to activate "Sting."
He continues to smash his surroundings until his left glove hums with enough power to end the fight, or until his right hand can no longer hold the bat.
Five to ten seconds later,
Adarte continued to power himself up.
His aura surged unevenly, flowing hard into his arms and especially into the left glove.
Each swing of the bat into the floor, each harsh movement, made his breathing heavier.
Conrad did nothing.
He didn't counterattack.
He did not feel that he needed to attack such a dangerous close-combat enemy.
In the end, the enemy is already attacking himself by trying to attack him.
There was no reason to fight directly.
From a warrior perspective, this action of Conrad may seem coward-like, but it was the logical conclusion he made in his mind.
Each time Adarte attacked,
Conrad was already gone.
"His speed… his physical capability…"
Conrad commented silently.
"Adarte is a strong and talented Nen user and a brawler, but his movements were rough. His Nen is powerful but crude."
"There was no finesse in how he used it, just force and pain layered on top of force."
"The glove doesn't matter if he can't touch me," Conrad thought calmly.
Conrad then also said to himself.
"He may use 'Emitter' attacks, forming some sort of aura-blast. I need to keep forcing him to harm himself until he can no longer keep powering up his glove."
Conrad was taking his sweet time; he had strategies to end the battle, but he was learning a lot, much more than he ever expected.
So he did not want to end it.
Adarte charged again, swinging the bat horizontally.
Conrad ducked under it and stepped to Adarte's blind side.
The bat smashed into the arena wall, cracking stone and sending dust into the air.
Conrad was already gone again.
Seconds turned into half a minute.
"Motherfucker..."
"He is like a rabbit. I cannot hit him or catch up to him at all." Adarte thought as he started getting like a red tomato from the anger.
Then a full minute.
Conrad wasn't just reacting anymore.
Under the State of Calm, his mind processed everything.
"I see it now," Conrad realized.
"Where he jumps. Where he launches. Where he commits."
Adarte's attacks became predictable.
"Every time his aura surged upward, a downward strike followed."
"Every time the glow in the glove intensified suddenly, a lunge came next.
"Every time his breathing grew shallow, he overcommitted."
Conrad adjusted effortlessly.
The crowd began to murmur.
From the outside, it looked strange.
Adarte was clearly stronger and more destructive.
The arena floor was cracked and broken in multiple places.
Yet Conrad hadn't been touched once.
Meanwhile, Adarte's right hand was getting worse.
Blood dripped from his fingers now, splashing onto the stone floor.
His grip on the bat trembled slightly between strikes.
The skin around his knuckles was split open, bruised, and swollen.
The glove on his left hand still glowed, but it flickered more often now.
Adarte noticed.
He slowed down, breathing hard, eyes locked onto Conrad.
Sweat ran down his face.
"Damn it…" he muttered.
He understood it too.
Hurting himself alone wasn't enough.
Conrad was too fast.
Adarte's eyes sharpened.
"If I can hit him," he thought, "I don't need to suffer this much."
His aura shifted again, this time more deliberately.
Conrad noticed immediately.
"That flow is different," Conrad thought. "He changed something."
Adarte straightened his posture and tightened his grip on the bat, ignoring the pain in his right hand.
His aura no longer just absorbed recoil; it reached outward slightly, clinging to the weapon.
"I don't need to charge it myself," Adarte told himself. "I can use him."
He stepped forward again.
This time, he didn't swing wildly.
He feinted.
Conrad moved to dodge, but Adarte adjusted mid-motion, forcing the bat to graze Conrad's shoulder.
It wasn't a clean hit.
But it was enough.
Conrad felt it immediately.
A sharp, focused pain spread across his shoulder, not deep, but intense.
His ten absorbed most of the damage, but the sensation still registered clearly.
Adarte's eyes widened.
The left glove flared.
Conrad's expression didn't change, but his mind noted it instantly.
"So that's it," Conrad realized. "Another condition."
Adarte laughed under his breath.
"Second Sting," he said aloud, his voice rough. "Pain of Enemy."
The aura around the glove thickened far more than before.
"When I hurt myself," Adarte continued, stepping forward, "I get power."
He raised the bat again.
"But when I hurt you…" His grin widened. "It's even better."
Adarte swung again, faster now.
Conrad dodged, but the bat clipped his arm this time.
Then another strike scraped across his side. Neither blow was serious, but each one carried pain.
And each time
The glove pulsed violently.
Conrad could see it clearly under Gyo.
The pain he felt wasn't just dispersing.
It was being pulled.
Drawn through the bat, through Adarte's body, and condensed into the left glove.
"Pain of Enemy," Conrad analyzed calmly. "A conditional extension of his Hatsu."
The condition was clear.
If Adarte caused pain to his opponent using the bat, the charge gained was far greater than from self-inflicted damage.
It made sense.
But it came with a requirement.
"He has to hit me," Conrad thought.
Adarte pressed forward aggressively now, his movements faster but sloppier.
He was chasing hits, not positioning.
The glove glowed intensely, vibrating like it might tear itself apart.
"Just one clean hit," Adarte thought. "One solid strike and it's over."
Conrad retreated, dodging narrowly again and again.
"His ability is powerful," Conrad concluded. "But it relies on suffering his or others'."
And that was the flaw.
Adarte's breathing grew ragged.
His right hand shook violently now.
Blood soaked the handle of the bat.
His left glove glowed brighter than ever, but the aura flow was unstable.
"You're almost ready," Adarte said, voice shaking with excitement. "I can feel it."
Conrad stopped retreating.
He stood still.
Adarte froze for a fraction of a second, surprised.
That was all Conrad needed.
"I've seen enough," Conrad thought calmly.
Adarte lunged, pouring everything into one final swing.