Chapter 83: Amenotokotachi
A massive volume of aura gathered in Silva's hands as he plummeted toward the street where Isley had just struggled out of the water, landing on a patch of concrete not yet swallowed by the flood.
Isley sensed the impending doom.
He gripped his revolvers. The Nen-infused weapons hadn't misfired despite the soaking. He pulled the triggers repeatedly, emptying both cylinders into the sky in a desperate barrage.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
But as the bullets left the barrels, a massive Dragon Head materialized from the side, its jaws snapping shut. In a single motion, it swallowed the entire volley of exploding rounds.
The bullets detonated inside the dragon's gullet, but the explosion failed to shred the construct of pure, dense aura.
Panic flared in Isley's chest. If that dragon had aimed for him instead of the bullets, he would have been torn into three pieces in an instant.
He tried to dive for cover, but his body wouldn't obey.
He couldn't move a single muscle. It wasn't just paralysis; it felt as if the very space around him had become viscous and rigid, like being trapped inside a block of solid ice. He couldn't even twitch his pinky finger.
Above him, Silva was falling.
In Isley's peripheral vision, he saw Zeno standing nearby, hands clasped to maintain the dragon. The dragon turned its head toward Isley, its eyes glowing with the reflected light of the explosions in its belly.
But that wasn't what truly broke Isley's spirit.
The true source of his despair was the realization that his senses weren't lying.
Space itself had been shackled.
And the source was Ronin, who was staring directly at him from several meters away.
Amenotokotachi: Celestial Stasis.
This was the power of Ronin's left eye. Its function: To freeze space within his line of sight.
Because the radius of the effect was so large, a trickle of blood began to trail from the corner of Ronin's eye. He wasn't sure if the strain was due to the volume of space he was holding, or the fact that Silva—a powerhouse—had just entered the "frozen" zone.
The moment Silva entered the radius, he too hung suspended in mid-air, less than half a meter above Isley. Ronin could see Silva's aura burning away rapidly as the Zoldyck tried to fight the spatial lockdown.
Ronin knew he couldn't hold it. He blinked, canceling the technique.
The moment the stasis broke, Silva's momentum returned with interest. His fists, cloaked in two massive orbs of destructive Nen, slammed down.
BOOM!
The impact sounded like a detonating bomb. A massive crater exploded where Isley had been standing. Blood and gore sprayed across the pavement. The only things left of Spider #8 were two shattered revolvers and a severed, mangled hand that spun out of the pit.
Silva stood up in the center of the crater, ignoring the red smear beneath his boots. He turned his gaze toward Ronin.
Suddenly, two more figures blurred into existence near the pit.
Nobunaga and Phinks.
Acting in perfect synchronization, they launched a pincer attack on the Zoldyck patriarch. Simultaneously, two other Spiders appeared, flanking Ronin.
"Dragon Head Helix!"
Zeno didn't let his guard down. With a flick of his wrists, he redirected the Nen dragon. It whipped around with incredible speed, intercepting Nobunaga and Phinks before they could reach his son.
Nobunaga's katana sliced into the dragon's neck. The blade bit deep, but it didn't sever it; the aura simply flowed around the steel and knitted back together instantly. The momentum of the dragon's head slammed into Nobunaga, throwing the swordsman back.
Phinks' punch collided with Silva's counter-strike.
CRACK!
The shockwave forced both men back. Silva looked entirely unbothered. Despite having just used a massive amount of energy to kill Isley, he was still matching a fully-charged Phinks blow-for-blow. The difference in their tiers was undeniable.
On Ronin's side, the blood-red skeletal ribcage manifested again.
Though only a partial manifestation, the Susanoo's giant skeletal hand lunged for the small figure attacking from the left, while the ribs effortlessly deflected a hail of incoming Nen bullets from the right.
The small figure was Feitan.
He had seen the power of that skeletal hand earlier and didn't dare touch it. He twisted mid-air, retreating with feline grace. He dodged the grab, but it forced him to break off his assault.
Franklin, seeing that his Double Machine Gun was useless against the Susanoo, grunted in annoyance. He gripped his own left wrist and pulled.
Schwing.
He detached his hand, revealing a large, dark bore inside his arm.
Simple Hand Cannon.
He began to channel a massive amount of aura into the barrel.
But before he could fire, a high-caliber sniper round slammed into his forehead.
Spang!
Sparks flew off Franklin's reinforced skull. The impact didn't kill him, but it snapped his head back, causing his charged blast to fire wide.
A ball of aura the size of a volleyball streaked past the Susanoo, slamming into a nearby skyscraper.
KABOOM!
A five-meter hole was punched into the side of the building.
Franklin snarled and looked toward the source of the shot. On a distant roof stood a tall man with a sniper rifle.
Behind the sniper stood a blonde teenager with glowing red eyes.
Kurapika and the mercenary Muherr.
"Fall back!"
Chrollo's voice echoed from a distance. Something had happened on his end that forced an immediate retreat.
The Spiders exchanged looks of pure frustration, but they obeyed. They regrouped and began a coordinated withdrawal into the shadows.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots and mechanical whirring filled the street.
Dozens of armed mercenaries appeared, their auras flared in open defiance. In the center of their formation stood a four-meter-tall Metal Mecha suit (Golem).
The Spiders realized the window had closed. They vanished into the dark alleys, leaving the battlefield to the "victors."
The mercenaries didn't pursue. They moved in to form a defensive perimeter around Ronin.
Zeno and Silva stood down. Their target was Isley. Since he was now a literal stain on the pavement, the contract was fulfilled. There was no professional reason to continue fighting the Troupe for free.
Silva's gaze lingered on Ronin. The boy's abilities were bizarre, shifting from water to fire to spatial manipulation and that red armored construct.
He didn't speak. He simply gave Ronin a respectful nod—an acknowledgment of his role in securing the kill.
Zeno and Silva turned to leave, vanishing as quietly as they had arrived.
"The youth these days..." Zeno's voice drifted back, barely audible. "Truly terrifying."
Ronin heard him clearly. A small, tired smile touched his lips.
Coming from a Zoldyck, he'd take that as a five-star review.
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