Chapter 8: What Are You Waiting For?

Confident judgment, swift execution at the slightest hint.

Truly infuriating...

It was like accidentally revealing just a corner of one’s underwear, only to have the other person guess the exact style.

And the kicker was, the other party was just a kid.

But the real question was—

What exactly was going on with this kid?

A strong sense of unease welled up inside Zazan, and quietly, murderous intent began to surface.

Duty and responsibility were important, of course, but he couldn’t tolerate these bizarre and unknown sudden situations.

It was frustrating, and unsettling.

Should he kill him...

Zazan fell silent, stealing a glance at Moro’s bleeding knee, his brow furrowing.

This “bleeding package” was a high priority; for now, better to observe.

After all, with a wound already opened, the conditions for activating his ability were barely met—it would just mean a longer wait.

So patience, a few more minutes.

Once the effect of his “data throwing knife” ability kicked in, he could directly control Moro.

In this brief moment, Zazan’s killing intent flickered, then was suppressed, and he finally settled on a course of action.

“They say things shouldn’t happen more than three times; I think that applies here just fine.”

Zazan restrained his emotions, casually fiddling with the throwing knife in his hand as his voice grew colder: “So don’t even think about running. That way, you still stand a chance to live.”

“Hmph, they also say that heeding advice fills the belly. I think that fits here too.”

Moro stared intently at the fluctuations of Zazan’s nen energy, speaking calmly: “So I’m not planning to run. That way, you still have a chance to catch me.”

“...”

Zazan’s mouth twitched involuntarily.

If not for the constraints of his so-called duties and the need to wait to meet the ability’s conditions...

That throwing knife in his left hand would have already flown toward Moro; he wouldn’t still be wasting breath here.

Since leaping out of the vehicle, Moro had been observing Zazan’s nen energy.

Sometimes, a person’s thoughts and emotions reveal themselves through fluctuations in nen.

Skilled individuals wouldn’t allow their nen to betray information.

But Zazan clearly hadn’t reached that level.

The shift in his killing intent just now was plain as day to Moro.

This meant Zazan’s principle of “not harming the cargo” could be flexible depending on circumstances.

So Moro trusted that Zazan’s words were sincere, fully dismissing any notion of using Zazan’s hesitation as an opportunity to escape.

After all, the risks of pursuing with restraint versus pursuing without are worlds apart.

There was only one choice left... to confront the problem head-on.

Moro consciously balanced the manifestation of his nen evenly throughout his body.

Though he’d just hurriedly opened his refined points, his adaptation was swift; the synchronization between body and nen was fitting tightly.

At this pace, there was no need to worry about any delay or misalignment between his nen and body feedback.

This was crucial... after all, his margin for error was very slim.

Moro kept his gaze fixed on Zazan, pondering silently.

Both sides had motives to “wait,” so the rugged mountain road where the cargo truck stood suddenly grew quiet.

Moro was waiting for his body and nen to synchronize, minimizing error chances.

Zazan, having gained the upper hand, preferred to resolve matters without bloodshed.

In this strangely tense atmosphere, neither side attempted to break the tacit understanding.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes...

As time passed, their mindsets shifted.

Zazan, confident and in control, didn’t waste much thought on Moro’s stillness.

All he had to do was wait for his ability to activate, then swiftly end things.

Moro’s situation was different; he had more to consider.

Judging from raw physical capability, the opponent was undoubtedly stronger.

Yet after the throwing knife attack, Moro realized the other seemed unconcerned about “time.”

That was the problem.

I’m waiting for my battle strength; but what is he waiting for?

Moro’s eyes flicked to the throwing knife gripped in Zazan’s left hand.

Left-handedness often indicated a higher probability of a materialization-type nen user, but that was just a reference point.

Another trait of materialization-types was an unconscious concentration of nen in their dominant hand.

But accuracy of that judgment depended on whether the ability user had already activated their power.

When jumping out of the vehicle and immediately turning to stay alert, Zazan already had the throwing knife in hand.

Judging by the bulge beneath his jacket, he likely had several throwing knives concealed.

Also, Moro had deliberately checked inside the vehicle after jumping out; the throwing knife was still there.

While multiple materialized objects were possible, current information suggested the opponent’s throwing knives were unlikely materialized objects.

That excluded the possibility of special abilities tied to the knives, so for now, Moro needn’t worry about risks like exploiting wounds to trigger certain effects.

From this analysis, although leaning toward optimism...

Entering the treacherous antiques trade had not only given Moro the chance to develop his “Deceptive Flying Star” ability, but also taught him something else.

That is, when there’s a conflict of interests, any hints of intent or purpose revealed in the opponent’s words and actions inevitably signal results you don’t want.

So even if Moro couldn’t glean more useful information from what he had, he realized that continuing to wait might carry risk greater than reward.

Given the current synchronization, he should be able to skip the foundational steps and smoothly unleash “Deceptive Flying Star,” right?

Hopefully... yes?

Moro wasn’t entirely certain, but with the wind against him, there was no time for verification.

As his thoughts raced to a decision, he first locked onto the handgun lying closer on the ground, then gathered nen in his right palm.

A soft, glowing green light sprouted like a seed, manifesting gently.

On the side of the cargo truck—

Surprise flashed through Zazan’s eyes.

Nen ability...?!

He had only just opened his refined points a short while ago...!

In an instant, alarms blared in Zazan’s mind, and the shock in his eyes was replaced by murderous intent.

At that moment, Moro successfully activated the “Deceptive Flying Star” ability.

A glowing green nen projectile, no larger than a marble, shot forth from his palm, aiming straight for Zazan’s chest.

Unsure of Moro’s exact ability and seeing the projectile’s moderate speed, Zazan sidestepped, evading the flying star.

Simultaneously, Moro scooped up the handgun and aimed at Zazan, pulling the trigger repeatedly.

Bang bang bang...

Eleven bullets flew toward Zazan in rapid succession.

Zazan’s eyes turned cold; leaping and sidestepping once again, he dodged the incoming rounds.

“P922, twelve rounds.”

After evading the bullets, Zazan slightly raised his throwing knife, advancing slowly toward Moro as he spoke coldly:

“You fired eleven shots just now—were you hoping to save one for a comeback? But what puzzles me more is...”

His killing intent deepened.

“You’re familiar with firearms, and you have nen abilities... so who exactly are you!?”

Bang!

Zazan was met with the final bullet from Moro’s gun.

At the same time as the shot rang out, Zazan threw his knife.

The bullet, charged with scorching energy, and the knife, swirling with nen, crossed paths midair, each heading toward their target.

Zazan’s face was expressionless—he was confident he could take a single bullet with his body, and confident his thrown knife would kill Moro.

The situation was far beyond expectations; he had no time to explain to his superiors.

With cold eyes, he watched the knife hurtle toward Moro’s vital area, while simultaneously activating nen to block the bullet.

Thud—

But before he could see the knife pierce Moro’s body, a sudden pain erupted in his back.

The following impact blurred his senses; blood spewed from his mouth.

“W-what...?”

The unexpected attack rattled Zazan’s mind amidst his fading consciousness.

Meanwhile—

The tip of the nen-infused throwing knife had pierced Moro’s skin.

Yet it could not advance another inch; in an instant, it transformed into smoke and slowly dispersed into the air.

“Phew.”

With the dust settled, Moro lowered his gun-holding arm.

Even now, he couldn’t determine Zazan’s type of nen ability.

But he was grateful that the man before him was someone like Zazan.

Had it been a nen user with a different temperament, Moro feared he would have died again.