Chapter 61: Hisoka, You Lost
Offensive emission-types and tool-based conjurers inevitably gather more Nen in their dominant hands before using their abilities.
For conjurers, the Nen accumulation is typically smooth and cohesive, forming a dense cluster tinged with sharpness.
For emission-types, however, the energy often takes on a sharper, more aggressive form due to the necessity of releasing significant amounts of Nen.
This characteristic is an inherent trait of emission-types during combat, a "tell" that is nearly impossible to conceal.
Even a master like Zeno Zoldyck couldn't completely suppress such indications at this stage of preparation. Perhaps only someone like Netero could achieve that level of concealment.
Observing the shape of Moro's gathered Nen, Hisoka quickly concluded that Moro was an emission-type user.
"Stealing someone else's prey… that's not a very good habit, you know," Hisoka teased, though his voice barely masked his eagerness to strike.
Moro raised an eyebrow in genuine confusion. "Prey? What prey?"
"Heh… hohoho…"
A master liar like Hisoka naturally excels at detecting lies. But in this case, there was no need.
From the moment he pursued Moro from afar, Hisoka only needed a single glance to see through Moro's essence.
Kindred spirit.
No doubt about it.
That lingering sense of satisfaction—after a kill—could never deceive him.
If Moro knew what Hisoka was thinking, he'd definitely protest loudly.
It was true that after killing Kortopi, Moro felt a surge of satisfaction.
But the source of his satisfaction wasn't from the act of killing. It came from the exhilarating feedback of leveling up.
Seeing the shift in Hisoka's aura as his laughter grew sharper, Moro decided against hiding any further. He raised his right hand, allowing the sharp Nen gathered there to spin and condense.
Under Moro's intentional compression, the rotating Nen took on a slightly flattened shape, with a faint green glow shimmering at its edges.
"Falsely accusing someone of stealing prey… or prey-hunting, that's no better a habit. Besides, letting your prey slip away right under your nose? That's incompetence, plain and simple."
"Hmm…"
Hisoka's grin stretched to its limits, his voice trembling as he suppressed his growing desire. "That, I won't deny. So… can we finally start 'getting along' now?"
"Let's make a bet."
Moro's voice cut through the air.
"Hmm?"
For the briefest moment, Hisoka's aura paused, intrigued. "Is this… foreplay?"
"Yes."
Moro responded calmly. "You could refuse, but if you do, I'll surrender myself, unmoving, and let you kill me. And I think… you wouldn't enjoy an unresponsive opponent, would you?"
"…"
For once, Hisoka fell silent.
He could tell Moro was serious. The indifference with which Moro spoke about his own death lent weight to the proposal.
No… no, that won't do.
An unresponsive opponent? How dull.
Flipping a few cards between his fingers, Hisoka squinted with a mixture of interest and amusement. "Fine, let's call it foreplay. What's the wager?"
"The bet is… whether you can successfully kill me."
Hisoka immediately grasped the meaning and felt his interest wane.
"If you mean some kind of 'chase game'... do you think I'd hold back?"
As he spoke, Hisoka's hand rested provocatively on his hip, deliberately emphasizing his posture.
Moro noticed the familiar gesture, a frequent habit of Hisoka's from the original manga. Unfortunately, it also highlighted some… physiological reactions.
Still, Moro's expression remained unfazed as he replied firmly, "As I said earlier, letting prey escape under your nose is a sign of incompetence."
"…"
This marked the second time Hisoka had fallen silent, though his aura only grew more ravenous in response.
"What if—"
Taking a step forward, Hisoka's golden eyes locked solely on Moro, the rest of the world fading from his view. "I fail to kill you?"
"One year," Moro stated, raising his left index finger. "If you lose, we'll immediately end our 'relationship' and enter a one-year cold war."
"Oh?"
Hisoka instantly understood the implication.
If he failed, he wouldn't be able to pursue Moro for another year. Only after that would he get another chance to resume their "relationship" (read: their violent games).
Was it an illusion?
Even though this was their first meeting, Hisoka felt an unusual sense of resonance with this person.
Killing him outright seemed like such a waste…
But no, he couldn't hold back. He wouldn't.
The desire to kill Moro burned within him, demanding to be satisfied.
Hisoka licked his lips, struggling to restrain himself. "And how could we be in a 'relationship' when I don't even know your name?"
"Good point," Moro admitted with a nod. "It's Moro."
Hearing this, Hisoka raised a brow in mild surprise but quickly dismissed the thought. Trembling with anticipation, he rasped, "Hisoka… that's my name. Now… can we begin?"
"Bring it."
Moro hurled the flat, green Nen sphere in his hand toward Hisoka and immediately retreated to widen the distance between them.
Hisoka's grin stretched impossibly wide as he lunged forward, ducking under the Nen projectile and closing the gap toward Moro.
Every fiber of Hisoka's being pulsed with excitement.
Moro saw the combination of exhilaration and bloodlust on Hisoka's face and couldn't help but think, "What a master of facial expressions."
But admiration aside, Moro kept moving.
Before Hisoka could reach him, Moro compressed another flat Nen projectile and hurled it backward.
Instead of retreating further, Moro stopped and advanced toward Hisoka.
"Hmm?"
Hisoka's sharp instincts detected the returning trajectory of the first projectile. Reflexively, he halted his charge and leaned back.
The returning Nen sphere whizzed past his face, narrowly missing him.
"A boomerang-style attack?"
With incredible agility, Hisoka straightened himself and prepared to strike Moro with his cards.
But Moro leapt into the air, avoiding both Hisoka and the returning Nen sphere.
"You're finished," Hisoka thought.
From above, Moro's earlier projectile swooped back like a swan in flight, intercepting him mid-air.
It flattened further, expanding in size, creating a platform beneath Moro's feet.
The second Nen sphere adjusted its trajectory to lift Moro into the air, carrying him out of Hisoka's reach.
Hisoka's cards slashed harmlessly through Moro's clothes, unable to land a hit.
Staring upward, Hisoka couldn't hide his astonishment.
"The star mark…"
Before coming here, Moro had marked a sparrow with a star mark.
Using the second Nen sphere, Moro linked the projectile to the sparrow's position, allowing him to escape by riding the Nen platform.
From above, Moro shouted gleefully:
"Hisoka, you lost."
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