As the number of monsters continued to increase, Kaizen instinctively took a step back.
At that mont, the sounds of battle erupted from another direction.
"Co!" A commanding, forceful voice rang out.
Kaizen turned his head and saw a young man launching a flurry of punches—one, two, three, winding up for a devastating strike.
"Ripper Cyclotron!"
The man had short blond hair and a fierce expression, his presence exuding raw aggression. Kaizen recognized him imdiately.
Phinks.
His mind flickered back to events from the Chira Ant arc—how a Division Commander led an army of soldiers into teor City, turning countless civilians into mindless puppets.
To the outside world, the Phantom Troupe were infamous criminals, but within teor City, they were sothing else entirely.
One by one, the monsters fell beneath Phinks’ blows, their bodies crumpling like broken dolls.
For a brief mont, Phinks’ eyes t Kaizen’s, before quickly shifting away. He seed uninterested.
"Enhancer-type Nen user," Kaizen noted to himself. "His ability, Ripper Cyclotron, lets him store rotational energy in his arm—each rotation multiplies the force. Among the Troupe, his raw strength is second only to Uvogin... even stronger than Hisoka."
His gaze shifted to the crystal ball in his hand—its progress had reached 30%.
Suddenly, the ground trembled.
A powerful aura erupted nearby, expanding outward like a tidal wave, covering the entire battlefield.
The monsters halted.
Then, one by one, they collapsed, their bodies dissolving into the earth as if they had never existed.
A lone figure erged.
A middle-aged man with red eyes, his expression twisted with rage and grief.
"Whoever dares invade the Kurta Clan... dies!"
Kaizen’s eyes narrowed.
"Soone’s already breached the Kurta settlent."
From the Kurta warrior’s reaction, it was obvious that intruders had made it inside—and that the battle was already underway.
Kaizen wasn’t surprised. Among the outsiders who had co here, he wasn’t the strongest. Many of them surpassed him in raw power. Besides, he’d been sent to a separate trial ground before arriving, while others had advanced ahead.
The battlefield bore the scars of an intense struggle—bloodied corpses, shattered weapons, and broken structures. By the ti Kaizen had arrived, much of the fight had already played out. The earlier invaders had either been slaughtered by the monsters or managed to force their way deeper into the settlent.
"Excellent!" Phinks grinned, delighted rather than alard by the new challenge.
He cast a wary glance at Kaizen, as if worried he might steal his prey. Kaizen, however, simply shook his head.
He had no reason to interfere.
He bore no grudge against the Kurta Clan, nor did he care for the bounty on their Scarlet Eyes.
Kaizen took a few steps back, distancing himself from the unfolding battle.
Then, a figure ca sprinting from within the settlent—fast, desperate. The mont he spotted Kaizen, his eyes lit up with hope.
"Help !"
A Kurta youth chased after him, his movents precise and deadly.
He was in bad shape—his body was riddled with wounds, his breath ragged.
His pursuer barely spared Kaizen a glance but tensed slightly, clearly evaluating the potential threat.
A healthy, unscathed fighter like Kaizen was far more dangerous than him, who was already on death’s doorstep.
But Kaizen did nothing.
He turned and walked away.
He had no reason to save him.
Nor did he have a reason to kill the Kurta youth.
As an assassin, Kaizen killed under two conditions: either he accepted a contract, or circumstances forced his hand.
Neither applied here.
The Aiyi family had put a bounty on the Scarlet Eyes—offering billions in jenny—but Kaizen had no interest in such a low-value target.
To him, the Aiyi family’s mission was rely a convenient ans to gain entry to the Kurta settlent. Now that he was inside, there was no rule saying he had to kill for them.
As Kaizen’s back receded into the distance, resentnt flared in his eyes.
His pursuer, on the other hand, exhaled in relief, though a flicker of disdain crossed his face. He turned his attention back to his prey.
"Kill him."
A single, decisive strike.
A youth collapsed.
As he lay dying, a surge of emotions overwheld him—rage, sorrow, bitterness.
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Why?!"
His malice condensed into raw Nen—his hatred fixating not on the Kurta warrior who had struck him down, but on Kaizen.
An ominous aura exploded outward.
Kaizen felt it imdiately. His expression darkened as he turned.
His final emotions had given birth to sothing monstrous.
A massive, spectral face appeared before Kaizen, its features twisted in agony and betrayal.
"Why?!"
"Why didn’t you save ?!"
With a furious wail, the entity lunged.
Kaizen’s hand moved.
His blade flashed.
"Slice!"
In an instant, the vengeful Nen was cleaved apart—his hatred dissipating as his soul was absorbed into the sword.
Kaizen sheathed his weapon with a cold, detached expression.
"Save you?" he murmured. "And why would I do that? Were we ever friends?"
The battlefield stretched out before him, littered with corpses, drenched in blood. Smoke and fire choked the air. Kurta warriors and outsiders clashed across the ruins of their ho.
More light coalesced around Kaizen, feeding into the crystal ball at his side. The observer’s progress surged forward rapidly.
As he walked across the blood-soaked ground, a body suddenly crashed down in front of him.
A Kurta warrior.
Before Kaizen could even glance at the fallen fighter, another attack ca hurtling toward him.
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