Chapter 5: The Node of Death

The cold sensation beneath him, combined with the jolting of the vehicle as it traversed the rugged road, constantly reminded Moro—this was reality.

Though he had clearly brushed against death, upon opening his eyes again, he found himself back one year earlier.

Moro was momentarily stunned, unable to suppress the flood of memories rising from the depths of his mind.

It was exactly a year ago that he had awakened inside this very metal cage of a carriage.

The unfamiliar surroundings and suffocating confinement naturally intertwined with the cold trembling of the carriage, conjuring an intense terror that dominated all his emotions at the time.

Now, with his thoughts returning to the present, Moro could no longer scream in panic as he once had.

He quickly calmed himself and cast another glance around.

Through the small holes letting in slivers of light, he saw two rows of iron cages arranged within the elongated vehicle, each cage containing a naked person.

Moro himself was among them, completely bare.

His gaze flitted over the occupants—boys and girls roughly his age, between fourteen and sixteen.

As he observed those trapped within the cages, the images in his memory gradually overlapped with their faces.

While Moro assessed the others, the noise he made upon waking caught their attention, and they all looked toward him in turn.

Most of their eyes were vacant and indifferent, with only two or three showing signs of puzzlement.

Moro ignored them, lowering his head to avoid the many gazes directed his way.

What exactly was going on?

Fragments of memory surfaced—the fierce, wrathful glare of Feitan almost replayed before his eyes.

The icy sting of a blade slicing across his face and the feeling of life slipping away lingered faintly.

This sensation was like a venomous snake coiled over his heart, sending a chill deep into his bones.

Yet—

Placing his hand on his chest, he could still feel his heart pounding fiercely.

He was alive!

Confirming this, Moro closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.

This strange, miraculous escape from death made him appreciate the preciousness of simply being able to breathe.

After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes, lowered his gaze, and then shifted it to the back of his right hand.

The ring tattoo was still there!

This invigorated him.

He recalled clearly that the tattoo had only begun to appear the day after his arrival in this time, gradually forming over several days.

But now, at this point in time, the ring tattoo was already fully formed.

This was different.

Focusing his sight, Moro moved his right hand further into the light for a better look.

Under the faint illumination, he quickly noticed changes in the ring tattoo.

The once white-filled rings were now pitch black.

Moreover, the infinity symbol at the center had vanished, replaced by—

Lv.1.

His eyes shifted as realization dawned: judging by the blackened rings, it was highly likely that all these changes were caused by the ring tattoo itself.

But why had the infinity symbol been replaced by a level indicator?

Could it be related to a “Love Etude”...?

Suddenly, a fleeting image of Melina crossed Moro’s mind.

“Lv” denoted a level, and the concept of levels was the most distinctive feature of Melina’s Nen ability.

So, it was natural for Moro’s thoughts to wander in that direction.

Yet, was there truly any connection between the two?

If the ring tattoo’s effect was to send him back one year upon death, then what role did the level symbol replacing the infinity sign play?

Lowering his eyelids, Moro sorted through the many pieces of information he had.

Lost in thought, he instinctively raised his left hand and gently brushed over the ring tattoo on the back of his right hand.

“Hm?”

At that moment, he noticed a new red “X” mark on the back of his left hand.

The edges of the symbol were thick black ink, exuding an ominous aura.

“What is this...?”

His pupils contracted as his attention zeroed in on the newly appeared “X.”

In an instant—

His consciousness felt like a fragile boat caught in a whirlpool, shaken and blurred for a fleeting moment.

Just a breath’s time.

Before his eyes, Feitan’s figure appeared once again.

This time, so vivid that he could see beneath Feitan’s rage a cold, murderous intent.

A hiss!

The sensation of a blade cutting across his face, and the choking grip of death on his throat, returned in amplified intensity.

The next moment, endless darkness overwhelmed him.

Moro experienced a death replay with unparalleled realism.

Immediately afterward, his consciousness wavered once more.

The scene before him dissipated like crumbling stone, replaced by a heart clenched tightly in pitch-black hands.

Moro stared at that heart, and suddenly an answer came to him.

The heart held in those hands was his own.

This inexplicable recognition was like data forcibly uploaded into his mind.

Along with it came a piece of information named the “Death Node.”

“Hm?”

Suddenly, his awareness snapped back to reality.

Moro blinked, realizing he was still holding the same posture.

“Death Node?”

Muttering incredulously, he slowly looked up and fixed his gaze on the rusted iron bars before him.

Then, with a sigh, he leaned back weakly against another bar.

The Death Node—

It was, in other words, the time of his death: June 23, 1997.

On that day, he would die at Feitan’s hand.

And then he would be reborn at the moment he first traveled here, back on June 7, 1996.

Without a doubt, he had been given a chance to start over.

However, the death node imprinted upon him would not vanish due to rebirth.

If he failed to destroy the “Death Node” before June 22, 1997, his heart would shatter into fragments in an instant, and he would once again fall into Death’s embrace.

The way to destroy the death node was to kill the person who created it before the original time of death arrived.

In other words, within one year, he had to kill Feitan, who remained entirely unaware of this.

Only then could he eliminate the price demanded by the Death Node.

“One year, huh...”

Moro exhaled deeply, picturing those black hands clutching his heart, as if Kurapika’s Oath Sword were piercing it.

A Death Node was a Death Node.

Whether he could destroy it or not, it was better than simply dying outright.

Moreover—

Moro glanced at the level symbol nestled at the center of the ring tattoo.

Though he could not yet understand its precise function, it was probably not a bad thing.

In any case, as long as he found a way to raise it from Lv.1 to Lv.2, he could realize its effect.

For now, he would tackle the immediate problem.

Gathering his thoughts, his gaze flicked back to the rusted iron bars.

The truck carrying them would arrive in a few hours at a psychiatric hospital built on a mountain.

On the surface, it was a mental institution, but behind the scenes, it dealt in human trafficking and organ trade.

Yes.

From the moment he was locked in this cage, Moro and the others had been brutally branded as mere livestock.