Chapter 53: Hisoka

The morning light dispelled the thin mist.

After a heavy rainstorm last night, the forest was still filled with moisture.

The ground was littered with broken branches and fallen leaves, damp and sticky from the abundant rain.

Several weary-faced individuals stepped onto the moist earth, their eyes drawn to a small hill rising amidst the forest, surrounded on all sides by towering trees. On the cliff face of the hill was a conspicuous cave entrance.

Upon seeing the cave, their spirits lifted.

In a humid forest, finding a suitable campsite was often difficult.

After last night’s storm, this group only wished to find a safe place to rest.

The cave high on the cliff was a rare and valuable refuge.

The leader’s pale face flushed slightly with hope as he stepped toward the cave, when suddenly the sound of wings flapping echoed from above.

The team looked up, spotting a giant bird with a wingspan of seven or eight meters descending from the sky, gently landing on the platform before the cave entrance.

Then, to their astonishment, the giant bird appeared to be suddenly terrified. It flapped its wings in panic and fled awkwardly from the cliff cave.

They exchanged glances, perplexed.

The leader hesitated, then took two cautious steps forward.

As his foot pressed on the damp grass and leaves, he suddenly understood why the bird had fled in fright.

“That is…”

He looked up, eyes wide, staring at the still cave entrance as if he could see a wave of black mist surging forth like a storm.

The aura of death was overwhelming.

The flush on the leader’s face vanished instantly. A memory flashed in his mind — a canyon floor he had once visited, desolate and silent, strewn with animal bones.

He clearly recalled the palpable sense of death that surrounded the countless remains.

It was exactly like this moment.

“Turn back!”

Shivering, the leader’s face pale once more, he took the lead in retreating.

He didn’t know what lurked inside the cliff cave, nor did he wish to find out.

His sole thought was to distance himself from danger.

Inside the cave, Moro looked toward the entrance.

He faintly saw the departing silhouette of the giant bird, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

He realized that when the bird had landed on the platform, he had intended to intimidate it with his aura, but before he could act, the bird had fled in terror.

“Could it be that after so many ‘death replays,’ I inadvertently infused some negative emotions into my aura…”

Gazing at the tiny black dot in the distant sky, Moro shook his head slightly, choosing not to dwell on it. He closed his eyes, preparing to rest.

He hadn’t slept all night yesterday, working to develop and refine his abilities.

Now, he wanted to recover as quickly as possible and continue his journey out of the forest.

Time passed swiftly.

On the third day, the sky was overcast and gray.

Moro managed to contact Kang Jai and Argo one after the other.

Kang Jai had avoided the swamp but was far from well. He had landed near a fast-flowing mountain river and, after much struggle, his phone was ruined. Thus, it wasn’t until today that he could reach Moro.

After confirming each other’s conditions, Moro and Kang Jai agreed to meet again when possible, then ended the call.

With Argo’s informational support, Moro spent another day navigating his way out of the forest.

Thanks to Argo’s help in reapplying for network entry permits, he smoothly crossed the border into the Republic of Minbo, then traveled to the nearest city in the adjacent country before taking a shuttle to the airport.

All the necessary procedures and permits were handled solely by Argo.

Through this, Moro experienced firsthand the unique value that intelligence operatives could provide.

Onboard the airship bound for the Great Kingdom of Guganyu, Moro set down his phone.

Just moments before, he had sent intelligence about the Phantom Troupe’s movements to Shiba’s contact number.

However, assassins seemed to use a new number for each contract to communicate with clients.

So Moro wasn’t sure if Shiba would block messages from numbers other than the client, nor if Shiba would believe the intelligence even if received.

For Moro, this was a minor matter done out of habit.

Several days later, the airship landed at an airport within the Guganyu Kingdom.

Thanks to complete documentation, Moro passed through without hindrance.

Exiting the airport, he took a taxi to a city called Kanda.

According to information from Argo, after the Phantom Troupe entered Guganyu, they initially moved together, seemingly unconcerned by the bounties and pursuit from the Navis nation, boldly roaming throughout the kingdom.

It was only five days ago that the troupe began to split up and adopt different operational styles.

Some members remained brazen, led by Okonaga Wokin, who made no effort to disguise themselves after separating from the main group.

In stark contrast were Kuroro and several accompanying members, who, likely under Kuroro’s instructions, began disguising their appearances and adopted a more low-key approach.

Kanda was the closest city to Moro’s current location and the place where Kuroro and his group had been spotted.

After about an hour’s journey, Moro arrived in Kanda.

This was a thoroughly modern city, filled with towering skyscrapers and complete amenities.

Compared to Youkuxin, a place brimming with dazzling lights and decadent indulgence, Kanda had a brightness and lightness that felt like returning to a provincial city from a past life.

Moro sent a brief message to Argo and, while waiting for a reply, casually pushed open the glass door of a nearby café.

The chime of the bell announced his entrance as he took a seat on a sofa near the door.

A server approached.

Moro pointed casually at an item on the menu, then lowered his head to fiddle with his phone.

By the time his coffee arrived, several minutes had passed, and Argo had yet to respond.

Unperturbed, Moro took a sip.

The doorbell jingled again.

Someone pushed open the glass door, and the sharp sound of heavy heels clicking on the floor followed.

It was the distinctive sound of high heels.

But the person entering was a tall, slender man with a narrow waist and long legs.

Nearby patrons instinctively glanced over, taken aback by the man’s wildly spiked red hair and the teardrop-shaped star makeup decorating his cheeks.

Such a look clashed starkly with the café’s surroundings.

Moro also looked at the newcomer.

Upon recognizing the man’s face, his expression shifted briefly before he quickly averted his gaze.

His mind raced: Chisuo?

What was he doing here?

A question arose, but Moro quickly found an answer.

He must be here... targeting the Phantom Troupe.