Chương 77: Silva's Loss

In any world, power decided everything. If Aren displayed overwhelming strength, then placed an order on the spot for another Zoldyck to kill the current client's side, that should give the family enough of a way out. As businessmen, the Zoldycks would know how to choose. That was how things would have gone if everything followed Aren's plan. But now his eyes were filled with wrath. Only one thought remained in his mind. Kill Silva. Blood bloomed in the air. An arm spun away, falling freely.

Cold sweat beaded on Silva's forehead as he looked at the stump of his left arm. At the same time, the two massive Nen spheres he had dodged struck one side of the villa. The moment they hit, they detonated, destroying an entire wall. The roar echoed through all of Chinkola Point and shook the surrounding area violently. Fortunately, Neon was not on that side. Even through his rage, Aren had not lost all reason. When reflecting the attack, he had checked the direction.

"What happened?"

"Explosion! It came from the boss's side!"

"Enemy attack?"

"Move! Put on your clothes and get over there!" The blast woke the entire area. Nostrade members stationed nearby jolted awake and rushed out. Aren ignored the commotion outside. He looked coldly at Silva, who was holding his severed arm, and lightly brushed dust from his clothes.

"Not bad. I aimed that one at your head." That was true. Aren's Hand had been aimed at Silva's head. But in the final instant, Silva sensed that most of Aren's aura had concentrated in his hand. He guessed that Aren's current state differed from the previous reflective defense. The reflection around Aren had vanished. So at the last moment, Silva kicked Aren in the waist and shifted his body. The strike that should have erased Silva's head took only his left arm.

'A terrible loss.' That was the first thought that flashed through Silva's mind after he opened distance. Revival. Defense. Attack. Speed. And finally, the kick he had landed. Silva had not held back with that kick. Aren had only been in ordinary Ken, with most of his aura gathered in his hand. Yet he had merely been pushed back a few meters and dusted off. That meant even without those strange Nen abilities, Aren was an absolute powerhouse. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent.

Report any sightings. Netero's aura reserve was roughly three hundred thousand. Silva's, at most, was around half of that. About one hundred fifty thousand. Aren's current aura reserve was already more than two hundred thousand. Looking at Aren's overly young face, Silva realized the boy had probably not had much time to grow. His foundation and combat awareness had not yet caught up to his raw strength. That was why he had seemed so green at the beginning.

But green or not, weak foundation or not, strength was still strength. Now that Aren had reacted, Silva could not beat him. He had even used Aren as an object lesson for Illumi earlier.

'Careless.' If he had not lost an arm, perhaps Silva could still rely on his richer experience to turn the situation around. Now his condition had fallen too far. Continuing the fight gave him little chance of victory. There was no choice. He had to retreat and return with his father. After judging the situation, Silva said nothing. He stomped hard enough to shatter the floor and used the burst of dust to flash toward Illumi's direction.

"Heh." Aren laughed once and opened En. After locating Silva, he threw a Flying Thunder God kunai.

'A hidden weapon?' To watch whether Aren pursued him, Silva had already opened En. When he sensed the kunai flying over, he felt a flicker of confusion. Aren's abilities did not look like those of someone who relied on hidden weapons. The next second, Silva understood. White light flashed. Aren appeared above him. This time, The Hand covered his leg. In midair, Aren adjusted his body and kicked straight down. Silva sensed Aren's sudden appearance through En. His speed dropped from maximum to zero in an instant.

His body bent backward from the knees into a bridge, dodging the attack. Only a few strands of silver-white hair were erased. This time, Silva clearly saw the method. Aren's movement was spatial teleportation. That made things troublesome. If it were only speed, Silva was confident, even if he did not claim to be the fastest in the world. But Aren had spatial movement too. That was cheating. The oddly shaped hidden weapon should be the medium for longer-range teleportation.

'Wait.'

'No. That's not right.' When Aren first appeared in front of him, no such weapon had been thrown.

'Short-range movement doesn't need a medium?' Thinking that, Silva tensed his legs and rotated sideways, opening distance again. Aren glanced through the shattered wall behind him. Outside, a black-haired boy was fighting Nostrade members below. Illumi moved through them like a ghost. Every time he struck, someone fell unconscious or collapsed in pain. Bart and Adam had also arrived. They had first confirmed the safety of Neon and Light Nostrade, placed them somewhere safer, and then hurried over.

That was why they had been slightly late.

"Trying to run first?" Aren confirmed Silva's direction and roughly understood his plan. Silva probably wanted to pick up Illumi, leave for now, and come back later with Zeno or even Maha. Silva did not answer, but his heart sank. Against someone with spatial teleportation, bringing Illumi away would be difficult. Even escaping alone in his current state would be hard.

'A mistake.' He should not have brought Illumi. He had thought this was only a mafia revenge job in a remote town. He had not expected a monster like Aren. Silva's mind raced, and he quickly chose to distract part of Aren's attention with words.

"Your ability is space, isn't it?" Aren raised an eyebrow.

'He saw through it?'

"Your spatial movement and the ability that cut off my arm both look like applications of space," Silva said.

"I still don't know how your reflection and revival work, but a person cannot normally possess two separate Nen natures. They must also be spatial applications. I simply haven't understood them yet."

"So you should be either a Transmuter or a Specialist." Silva continued speaking while searching for an opportunity to rush down and take Illumi. Aren admired his ability to identify the core trait in such a short time. But...

'What I like most is telling confident people they're wrong.' A Flying Thunder God kunai appeared in Aren's hand. Then, with another turn of his hand, a second weapon appeared.

"Do you still think I'm a Transmuter or Specialist?" Aren's voice carried faint mockery.

'Conjurer?' Seeing Aren openly conjure the strange weapons, Silva's mind briefly stalled. At the start, he had suspected Aren might be a Conjurer. But most of the abilities Aren displayed seemed to originate from his own body. The only visible tool was used for longer-range teleportation. Perhaps the space-erasing ability, short-distance movement, and initial reflection were all caused through some invisible conjured tools.

Just as Silva instinctively began analyzing Aren as a Conjurer, Aren suddenly turned and threw a Flying Thunder God kunai toward Illumi.

"I know why you suddenly started talking so much. Zoldycks don't waste words without a purpose." Aren smiled maliciously at Silva.

"Your goal is him, isn't it?" White light flashed. Flying Thunder God Technique activated. Silva's pupils contracted. He exploded forward with astonishing speed, chasing immediately after Aren. He had tried to distract Aren, only to have Aren distract him instead. Aren's foundation and awareness were weak, but his grasp of psychology was sharp. Silva had wanted to pull Aren's attention away. Instead, Aren had pulled Silva's attention into analyzing whether he was a Conjurer.

Silva could not arrive before teleportation. No one running on two legs could beat Flying Thunder God. But even knowing he would be late, he had to go. At this point in time, Silva had only Illumi and Milluki. Milluki was already a lost cause, lazy and gluttonous, only training when beaten. Illumi was his only reliable natural-born assassin. No matter what, he had to save him.