In the woods, the scents of blood and earth mingled in the air.
Hisoka licked the corner of his mouth.
His tongue slowly traced his lips as he looked with a smile at Genthru, whose arm was seeping blood not far away.
His body leaned forward slightly, weight resting on the balls of his feet as he entered a hunting state.
Genthru was in a wretched state.
There were three deep gashes on his right arm—left by Hisoka's playing cards.
The wounds stretched from his shoulder down to his elbow; the flesh was torn open, and blood dripped down his arm.
A slit had also been cut into his left trouser leg, and there was a shallow but long wound on his calf.
His glasses were crooked, and the left lens had a crack—shattered when Hisoka's fist grazed past his face.
Genthru stared at Hisoka, gnashing his teeth.
His teeth ground together audibly, and his jaw muscles trembled from the sheer force of his clenching.
He felt the rage of being seen through, toyed with, and played for a fool throughout the entire exchange.
After several rounds of fighting, he had confirmed one thing.
Hisoka knew the details of his abilities.
Every single time Genthru tried to get close to Hisoka's body, every time he tried to touch Hisoka's skin with his palm, Hisoka would interrupt him in a way that seemed almost precognitive.
When his palm was still ten centimeters from Hisoka's chest, Hisoka's body would suddenly shift sideways, while simultaneously kicking him in the thigh, sending him stumbling back.
When his fingers were about to grab Hisoka's arm, Hisoka's elbow would slam into his wrist, making his joints ache and his fingers go numb.
Switching to another tactic, Genthru planned a feint.
As his right fist struck toward Hisoka's head and his left palm reached for Hisoka's waist, Hisoka's knee would drive into his lower abdomen, sending him flying back.
At the same time, Hisoka would use "Bungee Gum" to stick to his clothes, yank him back, and land another punch.
Every single time.
It was like this every single time.
Without exception.
Hisoka had calculated every one of Genthru's moves in advance, cutting off every path that might lead to physical contact in the most direct and unreasonable manner.
Genthru adjusted his glasses.
The movement was slow and deliberate—he used the time spent adjusting his glasses to organize his thoughts, control his breathing, and calm himself down.
"It seems you're quite familiar with the details of my ability."
His voice was very calm.
"I should have blown them all to death."
He paused, staring straight at Hisoka, trying to read something from that twisted, smiling face.
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
He was stalling for time; every second was precious.
His Nen was slowly recovering, and the wounds on his arms were clotting faster under its nourishment.
He needed time; even just a dozen seconds would allow him to adjust his state and find a flaw in Hisoka's defense.
Hisoka laughed.
That smile looked exceptionally eerie under the moonlight.
"Mmm—hmm~♦"
His voice rose with a nasal tone, and then he extended his right hand, gently wagging his index finger.
"No comment~! ♦"
The way he dragged out the final syllable, along with that frivolous attitude, was full of provocation to Genthru.
Genthru's pupils contracted slightly.
His left fingernails dug into his palm, the stinging pain keeping him sharp.
He knew now; Hisoka wouldn't tell him.
This pervert had intended to kill him from the start, to toy with him, to enjoy the process of this hunt.
Genthru stopped talking.
His lips thinned into a line, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes behind the lenses.
Hisoka moved.
Using Bungee Gum, the Nen stuck to the soles of his feet contracted instantly, launching him toward Genthru like a blur!
There was no warning; even the fluctuations of his Nen were deliberately compressed to a minimum.
By the time Genthru saw Hisoka, Hisoka's fist was less than half a meter from his face!
Genthru's pupils snapped shut.
No time to counterattack; he crossed his arms, increasing the Nen on the surface for defense to meet Hisoka's fist!
"Bang—!!!"
Fist met arm, producing a dull, heavy thud.
Genthru's body skidded back half a meter, his feet plowing two deep furrows into the dirt.
His arms were trembling, but he had blocked it.
Then came Hisoka's second punch.
A tricky uppercut from below, the knuckles aimed right for Genthru's jaw!
Genthru leaned back; the fist grazed his chin, the wind from the punch stinging the skin there.
The moment his body leaned back, his right hand reached out from his side, fingers spread, grabbing for Hisoka's abdomen!
"A Pinch of Gunpowder" was already primed and ready.
His palm was concentrated with Nen; as long as he touched Hisoka's body, he could detonate it.
Just as his fingertips were less than five centimeters from Hisoka's waist—
Hisoka's body was suddenly yanked as if by something, shifting half a meter to the left in total defiance of the laws of physics.
"Bungee Gum!"
A pink Nen thread was stuck to his waist, the other end connected to a large tree ten meters behind him.
Genthru's palm missed.
His fingers closed in the air, grasping nothing but empty space.
At the moment he was yanked away, Hisoka whipped out his right leg, his toes wrapped in Nen, and lashed out fiercely at Genthru's right wrist.
"Crack!"
A crisp sound of impact.
Genthru's right wrist was kicked upward, the bone there making a faint, cringe-inducing "crack."
Sharp pain spread from his wrist through his entire forearm; Genthru's right hand trembled uncontrollably, and his fingers could no longer maintain the state of "A Pinch of Gunpowder."
Hisoka didn't stop.
The moment he landed on the left, he kicked off with both feet and bounced back.
This time, he was even faster.
He held three playing cards in each hand, their surfaces coated with Nen.
His body spun as he charged at Genthru.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Three cards slashed across Genthru's arm.
Swish! Swish!
Two cards sliced across Genthru's thigh—muscle was torn open, and blood sprayed out, drawing two arcs in the air.
Genthru gritted his teeth, enduring the pain without making a sound.
He suddenly crouched and swept his right leg, trying to trip Hisoka!
Hisoka jumped, flipped in the air, and flicked his hands downward, sending three more playing cards shooting down!
Genthru rolled to dodge; the playing cards nailed into the spot where he had just been, sinking into the soil with only half the card showing.
Hisoka landed and pounced again.
His attacks came wave after wave, giving Genthru no chance to catch his breath.
His martial arts far surpassed Genthru's—this was a gap in talent, in combat instinct, and that innate understanding and love for slaughter.
Genthru was suppressed until he could barely breathe.
His parries grew increasingly strained, his dodges more sluggish, and the wounds on his body multiplied.
Another cut appeared on his left ribs and right shoulder.
Another wound appeared on his back—left by Hisoka when he circled behind him; he hadn't even seen how Hisoka had moved there.
Posted June 29 at 7:00 PM
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