Chapter 26: Reaction

Constrained by the urgency brought about by "time"—for someone who needs to kill Feitan in ten months, where should the focus be placed?

Moro does not have the luck of Gon or Killua, who met Wing first and then Biscuit. If he were to pose this question to Biscuit, he would likely get an immediate answer. But Moro does not have Biscuit; he can only rely on himself to think through the answer.

He wonders: is there any need to stop and hone his skills in the matches below the 200th floor of Heavens Arena? The answer is yes. He is not short on money, so he does not need to rush to the 200th floor like Gon and Killua. What he lacks more at the moment is experience and insight in terms of martial combat. Compared to the levels above the 200th floor, where the focus has already shifted entirely to Nen abilities, the matches below are more likely to feature skilled martial artists like the one he just faced.

Originally, Moro had come for the Nen users of Heavens Arena. But after witnessing a martial arts duel that decided both the outcome and the survival of the combatants, his perspective shifted. Since his rebirth, everything he has done has been directed toward the goal of "Feitan’s death." Therefore, in his pursuit of strength, he must take Feitan’s combat style into account. Consequently, Moro naturally concluded that figuring out how to deal with Feitan’s rapid-fire attacks is the key to successfully killing him. Setting aside his overall combat experience, he must at least be able to perceive the speed of Feitan’s blade.

Relying on his own reasoning, Moro arrived at a general answer. Without the guidance of a master like Biscuit, he was unsure if his current choices were correct. All he could do was integrate his knowledge with action; once he had set his course, he could not afford any hesitation. And these arena matches... they could help him compensate for his weaknesses.

"Come again."

Moro’s thoughts returned to reality. He turned to look at the woman with the long ponytail, who was clutching her palm and retreating. Hearing Moro’s words, the woman’s brows knitted together.

"You..."

She wanted to ask something, but felt it would be inappropriate, so she clamped her mouth shut. Enduring the shock, suspicion, and the pain in her palm, she attacked Moro once more. She utilized her methodical, agile footwork, moving into Moro’s blind spot while in a full-speed dash.

*He’s dodging, which means...*

As she launched her strike, the woman noticed Moro’s barely-made evasive reaction and felt a surge of certainty. She shifted her technique, her palm suddenly dropping to strike Moro on the shoulder.

*Bang!*

Another dull thud echoed across the arena.

*Hiss!*

The woman felt as if she had struck a block of iron. She gasped, cradling her throbbing palm and retreating as if she had been electrocuted.

*So hard... How could it be this hard? Even with hard qigong, it shouldn't reach this level, right?*

Fine beads of cold sweat broke out on her forehead instantly. The first time she attacked, she had held back, seeing that Moro was quite young. The second time, having recognized his strength, she had not held back at all. Yet, it was precisely because she had put in full force that she suffered an even worse backlash. Holding her now-swollen palm, she suspected a hairline fracture, and her heart grew heavy. She stared at Moro, only to see...

*He’s lost in thought again??!*

The woman’s cheek twitched.

Moro was indeed pondering the exchange. Although he hadn't anticipated the woman’s sudden change in tactics, his Nen had reacted faster than his body. It was just that, due to his haste, he hadn't controlled the intensity of his Nen well, leading to excessive rebound damage for his opponent. This was definitely not what Moro wanted to see.

He could tell that this woman with the long ponytail had real martial arts training. Setting aside physical strength, the footwork she used to quickly get behind him reminded him of Killua. Moro wanted to use these three minutes to experience her offensive techniques as much as possible, hoping to learn something from them. But it seemed he had really frightened her.

Moro quickly ended his musing and looked at the cold-sweating woman, saying earnestly, "Come again. I’ll be careful this time, and I promise not to counterattack."

"..."

The woman remained silent, gritting her teeth. With a palm that was likely fractured, she had already considered forfeiting. But seeing Moro’s reaction, she felt unwilling to give up.

On the sidelines, even the experienced referee could not help but show a look of surprise at Moro’s behavior. The contestants watching from the stands were even more stirred.

"He’s the one who landed the hit, yet the woman is the one injured..."

"To be distracted and lost in thought on the arena floor... he’s too arrogant."

"Daring to fight like that? Hmph, he’s lucky he hasn't met me."

Some of the contestants in the audience murmured, but one handsome man remained silent, his eyes fixed intently on Moro.

On the stage, Moro looked expectantly at the woman. The latter gritted her teeth; she ultimately did not want to lose the match this way.

"Hah!"

The woman abandoned her footwork. Adjusting her breathing, she mobilized all the muscles in her body with everything she had, then stepped forward to reach Moro.

A straight punch!

Setting into a horse stance, she threw a punch directly at Moro’s abdomen. Moro lowered his gaze, capturing the punch with his eyes. Power, speed, angle—all elements were fused into this strike, giving it a very harmonious quality. This method of generating force and the path of the punch must have been the result of countless targeted adjustments and training.

However—

He could see it clearly.

*Footwork is indeed very important...*

*If this punch had been combined with her footwork, I probably wouldn't have been able to defend against it with my lack of experience.*

In a flash, Moro felt his depth of thought was different than before, allowing him to grasp so much in such a brief moment.

Then—

Moro lowered his hand, placing his palm directly in the path of the woman’s fist. He even consciously controlled the intensity of the Nen swirling around his palm.

*Bang!*

The woman’s fist landed heavily on Moro’s palm, but it felt as if all her strength had been poured into cotton, with no feedback at all. Moro didn't budge, and the woman remained frozen in place like a statue.

"You..."

The gentle, deep-water-like resistance she felt from her fist left her stunned. She felt as if she had touched upon a realm she could not comprehend. She looked up at Moro in a daze. Fortunately, she was no longer met with a look of deep contemplation, but with the youth’s refreshing, spring-like smile.

"Thank you."

Moro withdrew his palm and thanked her sincerely.

*I can learn a lot of things here.*

At this moment, Moro was absolutely certain.

The woman opened her mouth, but ultimately let her arms hang down in total defeat.

"Referee... I concede."