Hunter X Hunter: I Got Stronger After I Died

Fragile, sensitive.

These were the things Moro saw in Kurapika just before he lowered his head.

Though he sympathized with Kurapika's situation, there was no way he would directly reveal information about Nen to him.

That would be far too dangerous.

Even without using Gyo to carefully observe the faint aura on Kurapika's body, Moro could easily sense his mental state.

He was like a taut string—

It was well known that the Kurta Clan's Scarlet Eyes were triggered by intense emotions.

And the frequent activation of this bloodline trait would inevitably take a toll on the mind.

Without Nen's influence, the burden might not be too severe, but over time, even small strains could accumulate into something substantial.

The Kurta Clan Massacre…

The sheer horror of the scene left behind must have forced Kurapika into a long and grueling mental battle.

In the future, the power of the Scarlet Eyes would be one of Kurapika's most valuable assets in his fight against the Phantom Troupe.

But as things stood now, those same Scarlet Eyes only brought him greater psychological strain.

However…

This last surviving member of the Kurta Clan had shown extraordinary resilience, overcoming this immense trauma without letting hatred corrupt his true nature. He had managed to preserve his kindness.

That, in itself, was something rare and precious.

But it was also his greatest weakness.

Moro had no intention of interfering in another person's life. He had no desire to dictate the path Kurapika needed to take.

After all, people could only truly understand a road by walking it themselves.

But that wasn't the reason he refused to tell Kurapika about Nen.

Given Kurapika's current mental state, learning about Nen would only do more harm than good. That was one reason.

The other reason? Moro simply didn't have the time to waste on him.

Besides, with his current situation, if Kurapika got involved with him, he would only be dragged into unnecessary trouble.

It wasn't the right time.

Moro was always rational, always cautious in considering future possibilities.

That was one of the reasons he had been able to establish himself in this world.

"You came here for the Scarlet Eyes, didn't you?"

Moro casually shifted the conversation, looking at Kurapika, who still had his head lowered.

But his words struck a nerve.

How do you know that?

Kurapika didn't voice the question, but he reacted instantly—his hand shot out and gripped the wooden sword beside him.

Yet, faced with the overwhelming and unknown power of Moro, he didn't dare act rashly.

Moro, however, remained unbothered by Kurapika's reaction. He simply stated, "Your response confirms it—survivor of the Kurta Clan."

!!!

Kurapika's head snapped up instantly, his eyes burning a deep, blood-red.

The glow from his pupils seemed to form a barrier, as if resisting everything around him.

The activation of the Scarlet Eyes shattered Kurapika's caution, reason, and final sliver of restraint.

Clang.

Gripping the wooden sword tightly, he slashed at the monster who had so effortlessly exposed his identity and intentions.

The attack carried no hesitation.

It was the strongest strike he had ever unleashed under the power of the Scarlet Eyes.

And yet—

Moro simply raised a finger and effortlessly caught the wooden blade.

Kurapika's red pupils contracted sharply. He tried to yank the sword free, pouring all his strength into it.

But it was like pulling against an immovable mountain.

Moro wasn't gripping the blade with force—he simply held it in place with a single fingertip.

Yet it felt as if it had been welded to his hand.

There must be some kind of ability I don't know about… something that gives him unimaginable strength!

"If you're so sensitive about 'exposing yourself as a survivor of the Kurta Clan,' then don't go around wearing Kurta Clan attire so obviously."

Moro casually pushed the wooden sword back.

The force knocked Kurapika off balance, sending him stumbling backward until he slammed into the wall.

Hearing Moro's words, Kurapika froze. He lowered his gaze and caught sight of his blue-and-white Kurta Clan robes.

So that's how he knew…

Kurapika began to calm down.

Because of news reports, the outside world had learned about the Kurta Clan's existence.

Even now, there were pictures he couldn't bear to look at circulating on the internet.

It wasn't surprising that someone would recognize the Kurta Clan's traditional attire from those images and use that knowledge to test his identity.

That's exactly what this man had done.

Besides, if he had truly meant harm, Kurapika wouldn't have even gotten the chance to swing his sword.

"But just hearing the words 'Scarlet Eyes' and 'Kurta Clan survivor' made me…"

The red glow in Kurapika's eyes slowly faded. He felt ashamed of his lack of composure.

With this level of self-control, how could he ever hope to reach his goal?

"Take off your outer robe."

A voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Kurapika looked up in confusion.

Seeing Moro's firm expression, he hesitated but obeyed, slipping off his Kurta-style outer robe and handing it over.

Moro took it, then shrugged off his own black suit jacket and tossed it to Kurapika.

Honestly, Moro didn't understand why Kurapika had dared to walk around in such obvious clothing.

With the high value of Scarlet Eyes, even the slightest leaked information would have countless people rushing in like starving beasts.

Especially in Yorknew City…

In the shadows beyond normal society, there existed a certain kind of predator—the kind that lived on the edge of a knife.

If they caught wind of Kurapika, they wouldn't hesitate over whether they had the wrong person.

The moment they saw an opportunity, their first instinct would be to kill and take.

"You probably don't know this city well, but let me tell you—this place is full of monsters who would eat you alive."

Moro ripped Kurapika's robe into shreds, crumpling it into a ball before continuing:

"So if you want to stay safe, hide the fact that you're a Kurta Clan survivor. Don't wear clothes that reveal your identity, and get yourself a pair of colored contact lenses. That's all I have to say—do what you will."

With that, Moro turned and walked away.

Kurapika stared after him, dumbfounded.

"Why are you helping me?"

Moro stopped for a moment.

But he didn't answer.

Why, indeed…?

Perhaps, he was simply planting a seed of kindness, hoping it might bear fruit in the future.

"There's a Nampis Auction House ticket in the jacket."

Leaving those parting words, Moro strode out of the alley.

Kurapika blinked in surprise, then instinctively checked the pockets.

Inside, he found a 12-million-jenny auction ticket.

His hands trembled slightly.

He clenched the ticket tightly—then quickly loosened his grip, afraid he might damage it.

"I don't even know his name…"

Kurapika snapped his gaze back toward the alley.

But Moro was already gone.

In the silent darkness, he could only etch that man's face deep into his memory.

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