Two days had passed without Conrad leaving his room in Heaven's Arena.
Still, progress was progress.
He had just released his breath when the sound came.
A sharp tap against the door.
Conrad's eyes opened immediately.
His aura settled back into Ten as he moved toward the door and glanced through the peephole.
Adarte.
Conrad allowed himself a small smile and opened the door.
Adarte stood there, posture straight, despite the injuries that had not fully healed.
He nodded once, respectfully.
"Were you training?" Adarte asked. "I can come another time if you're busy."
"You're fine," Conrad replied.
"I was about to rest anyway."
Adarte entered and, without thinking, sat in the same place he had taken during his last visit.
Conrad grabbed a bottle of water, twisted the cap, and took a long drink before sitting across from him.
Adarte watched him for a moment, then spoke.
"I thought about what you said," he began.
"About my Nen. About how I relied on it without understanding it."
Conrad nodded but said nothing.
"I went back to basics," Adarte continued.
"Ten. Ren. Gyo. Shu. I stopped trying to improve my ability and started improving myself instead."
"That's the correct order," Conrad said.
Adarte exhaled slowly.
"I still want to use my bat," he said.
"It feels right. It's the one thing I never hesitate with. But I don't want to use the same ability anymore. Not that one."
Conrad leaned back slightly.
"The one that stored pain from your right hand into the left glove," Conrad said.
Adarte nodded.
"At the time, I thought it was clever. Hurt myself, then return the pain multiplied. After your words, I realized something."
"I built my entire future on the idea that I would always be able to land hits."
Silence filled the room.
"That's not a strategy you have made yourself; it is more of a hope."
Adarte gave a short, humorless laugh.
"I was a fool," he said.
"I thought power meant intensity. I never considered what would happen if someone refused to stand in front of me."
"You did consider it," Conrad replied. "You just ignored the answer. People do it all the time."
Adarte looked up.
Conrad met his gaze.
"You knew your weakness," Conrad said. "But your ability rewarded you for pretending it didn't exist."
Adarte absorbed that quietly.
"I still want pain to be part of my Nen," Adarte said after a moment.
"Not just mine. Pain is something I understand. I grew up with it. I trained through it. I know how it changes people."
"That's fine," Conrad said.
"Pain is a valid theme. But themes don't replace structure."
Adarte frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"Your old ability had one condition," Conrad said.
"You hurt yourself for the pain to store aura on your left glove. That's not a real restriction for someone like you. You can tolerate it. That means the multiplier was weaker than you thought."
Adarte's eyes widened a fraction.
"If you want pain to matter, then pain needs to cost you something you value."
Adarte stayed silent, listening.
"Ask yourself this," Conrad said.
"What happens if you fail to land a hit? What happens if the fight drags on? What happens if you face someone faster again?"
Adarte lowered his gaze.
"I die," he said.
"Then build an ability that acknowledges that," Conrad replied.
"Not one that pretends it won't happen."
Adarte's fingers tightened.
"I don't want to give up my bat," he said.
"You don't have to," Conrad answered. "But stop treating it as a hammer. Treat it as a medium."
Adarte looked confused.
"A bat is not just for hitting," Conrad said.
"It has reach. You focused only on impact. That's why your Nen followed the same path."
Adarte's breathing slowed as he thought.
"Pain doesn't need to be stored,"
Conrad continued.
"It can be delayed and also can be measured."
Adarte looked up sharply.
"Measured?"
"Yes," Conrad said. "Pain becomes powerful when it is inevitable, not explosive."
The room fell quiet again.
"I won't design your ability for you," Conrad said. "That would make it fragile. But I'll give you one piece of advice."
Adarte waited.
"Build something that still works," Conrad said, "even when you can't swing your bat."