Hunter x Hunter: The Strongest Zoldyck

Chapter 113 Using one's body as a shield and bones as a blade

puff!----

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Ryujin staggered back a few steps.

The sharp pain surging from his chest drained most of his strength, making it impossible for him to maintain his previous posture.

"Is this what recitation is?"

He gently wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his right hand and looked intently at Roy.

"Yes, this is thought, but it's only one-tenth of thought."

Looking down at his right fist, Roy recalled the sensation he had just felt.

Soft, smooth, and without resistance, it seemed as if what struck Liu was not his fist, but something else entirely.

No, or rather—the hit-and-run style is truly like a fist wearing "gloves"—amplified power and increased defense.

But another feeling told him that if he used any more force, the protection wouldn't be so secure.

Therefore—the level of protection and power gained depends on the intensity of the chant I apply to my fist.

What would happen if I concentrated all my thoughts in my right hand?

Do it when you think of it.

Ignoring Ryujin, who was on high alert opposite him, and even forgetting that this was a fighting arena, Roy started the experiment directly.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, using his mental will to mobilize all the thoughts in his body, allowing that layer of silvery-white mental energy to emanate from every inch of his skin...

It steams out from every pore.

At first, it was just a thin mist, but it quickly grew thicker and denser, until finally the silvery-white mist intertwined, wrapped around, and piled up on his body.

final.....

...forming a thick layer of "armor".

The armor is formless and intangible.

From Ryujin's perspective, he could not see the layer of silvery-white light, nor could he sense the specific shape of Nen.

But he can see other things...

He could see the once calm air around Roy begin to distort violently, as if a piece of red-hot iron had been thrown in.

twists and turns.

The light was visibly refracted around the boy's body, like the heat waves on a summer asphalt road. The twisted patterns spread outwards in concentric circles from the boy, and with each concentric circle, the sense of oppression intensified.

He even began to feel as if an invisible giant hand was slowly pulling at his chest.

Breathing became difficult, my heart began to race, and a low, almost dizzying buzzing came from deep within my eardrums.

This was neither an attack by Roy nor a deliberate intimidation; it was merely a natural aftershock that emerged when he concentrated all his thoughts in one place.

"Something's coming—"

His gaze sharpened slightly, and Liu Zhen's deep brown pupils shrank to two small dots under the light.

His body reacted instinctively; instead of running away, he squeezed all his strength to the limit.

From shoulder to waist, from waist to knee, from knee to ankle...

...Every muscle in his body was clenched, like wringing out a towel soaked in water.

Squeeze your shoulder blades back to open your chest and allow your lungs to take in as much air as possible.

Tighten your waist and abdomen, and flex your core muscles like an iron plate, firmly locking your upper and lower body into one.

His thigh muscles bulged, and the veins writhed under his skin like earthworms. His knees were slightly bent, and his center of gravity was lowered to its lowest point, making him look like a wedge driven into the ground.

His hands were crossed in front of him, left palm over right fist, with a finger's width of space between the palm and fist. This was the final form of the Infinite Path Flow: Mirror Water: "Shattered Mirror!"

When there is nothing left to defend, one should use one's body as a shield and one's bones as a blade.

This move is not meant to defeat the opponent, but to avoid being shattered before being knocked down.

Sweat slid down his forehead, flowed over his brow, down the corners of his eyes, and hung on the edge of his chin, trembling slightly.

Roy didn't look at him.

He was looking at his right hand.

That fist had been completely swallowed up by the silvery-white light—no, not swallowed up, but merged with.

The outline of the fist became blurred in the light of thought, like a piece of metal being melted by high temperature, transitioning from solid to liquid.

The energy rotates, compresses, and stacks rapidly on the surface of the fist, its density increasing dramatically and its mass multiplying.

He could feel the scorching, almost unbridled power on his fist... It was roaring, struggling, clamoring to break free and smash everything in front of it.

If that punch lands... he'll die, won't he?

With a quick glance, Roy saw Ryuma's figure, who was ready for battle, and made a judgment on whether he could withstand his full-force attack.

Then... try to take it back?

He suddenly remembered Bisky's words: "Being able to release Nen is not a skill; being able to release it and then take it back is the basics of being a Nen user."

Take it back!

Taking a deep breath, Roy pressed the cool air into his dantian, and then slowly, little by little, began to gather the enormous spiritual energy in his right hand.

The silvery-white light softened from its blinding intensity, and became docile from its violent intensity, like a beast whose neck had been held down, letting out a few unwilling growls before obediently retreating back into its body.

The right hand returned to normal.

The five fingers, the knuckles, the joints... all are clearly visible, and all are intact.

He opened his palm, then clenched it again, repeating this twice to confirm that every finger was still under his control.

Then, he raised his head and looked at Ryujin, who was three meters away.

The burly man's uniform was soaked with sweat, the dark gray fabric turning almost black, clinging tightly to his skin and outlining the contours of every muscle in his shoulders and back.

His chest heaved violently, his lips were slightly pale, but his deep brown eyes remained bright, still fixed on Roy, without looking away.

Roy looked into those eyes and remained silent for a moment.

Then he withdrew all his thoughts.

The silvery-white light dissipated from the body surface, the air returned to normal, and the invisible sense of oppression receded like the tide.

The spectators in the stands all exhaled in unison, as if they had just surfaced from the bottom of the water.

That's enough.

Roy's voice wasn't loud, but it was as clear as a blade slicing through glass in the quiet arena.

"If you keep fighting, you'll die."

Ryujin paused for a moment, then a bitter smile appeared on his lips.

He wanted to say I can still fight, that I haven't fallen yet, that you underestimate me...

But when he looked into Roy's calm, unyielding silver-gray eyes, all those words stuck in his throat.

he knows.

Roy is right.

If the fight continues, he will surely die.

Thinking of this, Ryujin slowly loosened his clenched fist, straightened his back, and put away his "broken mirror" posture.

His knees trembled slightly, but he quickly regained his balance... It wasn't just a forced effort; he genuinely could still stand.

"I surrender."

The three words came out of his mouth calmly and slowly, without any resentment, anger, or even much emotional fluctuation.

Like a sailor who has been sailing through a storm for a long time, finally seeing the harbor... It's not retreating, it's arriving.

The referee paused for a moment, then raised his right hand: "The contestant concedes. The winner is here!"

'

"Number 365!!!"