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Chapter 121: Texture Surprise
Ronin's gaze swept across the ruined arena, his scarlet eyes tracking every minute detail, not missing any residual threads of Nen connected to Hisoka. The Sharingan's peerless kinetic vision, coupled with the focused aura of Gyo, ensured that absolutely nothing escaped his notice.
He was certain of one thing: if Hisoka wanted to break the water prison, he had to do it from the outside.
His shuriken had cleanly severed all of Hisoka's visible aura threads connecting him to the outside world. So, where was the magician's trump card hiding?
A sudden, jarring movement on the periphery of the ring caught Ronin's eye.
It was the referee!
The man's body jerked unnaturally, his limbs flailing as he staggered toward the water prison like a poorly strung marionette. Yet, through Ronin's crimson vision, there was no trace of Bungee Gum attached to him. In fact, there wasn't a single spark of Nen visible on the referee's body at all.
Then how is Hisoka manipulating the referee?
Though his mind raced, Ronin's reflexes were instantaneous. He threw a devastating punch aimed squarely in the referee's direction. The explosive gale from the punch blasted the referee further away, and in that fleeting moment of violent displacement, the Sharingan finally pierced the veil.
As the referee's clothes whipped back, the hidden Nen was exposed. It wasn't just concealed; it had been painted over with a layer of deceptive aura designed to camouflage perfectly with its surroundings.
Texture Surprise, Ronin deduced instantly.
During their brief clash at the Cemetery Building, Hisoka had used this exact ability to mask the severe wounds on his fists. Ronin had noticed it then, but hadn't scrutinized it. Now, it was clear: this camouflage was sophisticated enough to temporarily blind even the Sharingan's insight.
This camouflage went far beyond the basic concealment of In, because In could be countered by Gyo. Yet, even with Gyo focused through the Sharingan, Ronin had failed to see through the camouflage beforehand.
Using Bungee Gum to puppeteer the referee was a brilliantly deceptive move. However, judging from the referee's movements, Hisoka was clearly not adept at this. It wasn't true Manipulation; it merely restricted the man's actions, forcing him to stumble forward under the control of Bungee Gum.
But why go to such lengths?
A sudden realization struck Ronin. He shifted his gaze, his eyes darting across the scattered debris on the arena floor. There, attached to dozens of loose stones, were taut, vibrating threads of pink aura.
When Ronin's gale-force punch had blown the referee back, it had also scattered the debris further outward—pulling those hidden threads of Bungee Gum to their absolute breaking point.
In the next fraction of a second, the tension snapped.
Dozens of jagged stones launched through the air like a volley of bullets. Their trajectory converged precisely on Hisoka's current position, effectively catching Ronin in the crossfire.
Hisoka had been setting this up from the very first moment they clashed. The trap was meant to catch Ronin off guard, forcing him into a defensive scramble and creating an opening for a fatal strike.
Instead, by pure coincidence, it had become the key to shattering the water prison.
Susanoo rose around Ronin, its skeletal ribs forming an impenetrable barrier. The stones shattered harmlessly against the glowing armor. Simultaneously, Susanoo's massive hand reached into the stone-pierced water prison to grab him.
But the moment Hisoka hit the ground, he instantly launched himself backward in a series of rapid, acrobatic flips.
Ronin's eyes tracked every movement. With every step, every touch of Hisoka's hands or feet against the arena floor, a fresh patch of pink aura was left behind.
It was Bungee Gum.
Deploying his aura detached from his body meant the construct wouldn't last long, and its elasticity and strength would be significantly weakened. But in the heat of combat, laying down a minefield of invisible trampolines was an exceptionally annoying harassment tactic.
He activated Ama-no-Tokotachi with his left eye, targeting the space Hisoka was retreating into. At the same time, Susanoo's massive hand swept forward in a crushing arc.
The barrage of rebounding rocks clattered uselessly against Susanoo's arm, doing nothing to slow its momentum.
Hisoka, mid-retreat, suddenly felt a sharp pain in his arm. Blood sprayed into the air. He hadn't seen a projectile. He hadn't felt an impact.
What's going on?
Surprise flashed across his mind. He forcefully halted his momentum, twisting his body to plant his feet. With his uninjured arm, he threw a desperate, aura-infused punch directly at the incoming skeletal hand.
Crack.
The sickening sound of bone giving way echoed across the arena. Hisoka's left arm shattered on impact. Even with a full burst of aura, he could only deflect the massive hand's trajectory—he couldn't shatter it.
Hisoka stood perfectly still, but in a flash, a pitch-black magician's cloth materialized in his other hand. He tossed it toward the space above his wounded arm, where the invisible, spatial blockade lingered.
The cloth hit the invisible barrier, draping over it to reveal a flat, razor-thin silhouette suspended in mid-air!
As the cloth slipped off and fluttered toward the ground, the invisible "spatial blade" vanished. With a flick of his wrist, Hisoka caught the cloth and draped it dramatically over his shattered arm.
In the next second, a miracle occurred.
The arm that had struck Susanoo miraculously returned to normal.
The entire stadium, which had fallen into dead silence ever since Susanoo's towering figure appeared, finally let out a collective breath. Simultaneously, the commentator's voice returned, and frantic cheers and gasps of disbelief echoed throughout the arena.
Inside the ribcage of Susanoo, Ronin didn't rush to press the attack.
His mastery over Ama-no-Tokotachi was growing by the day. He had evolved from simply freezing a target within a spatial block, to freezing a localized pocket of space, and now—shaping that frozen space into an invisible, razor-sharp guillotine.
Ronin's understanding and application of Ama-no-Tokotachi were becoming increasingly profound.
The only flaw was his precision, though this was partly because he hadn't intended to kill Hisoka outright. His original intention was to cleanly sever Hisoka's arm. Instead, he had only managed a deep laceration. The gap between intention and execution was vast.
I need more practice, Ronin thought. Not just shaping the stasis, but placing it perfectly in the heat of high-speed combat. This space-time ocular jutsu was rapidly proving to be the most terrifying trump card in his arsenal.
Across the ruined ring, Hisoka's expression showed no fear of his injuries. Instead, he became increasingly excited.
Even though he was being suppressed in a normal fight, this was exactly the kind of battle he desired.
Ronin... truly a more tantalizing fruit than Chrollo!
But how was he supposed to win?
The boy possessed too many abilities, and they were too bizarre. It was impossible to predict what supernatural phenomena he would unleash next. If Hisoka relied solely on his current level, securing a victory seemed nearly impossible.
Hisoka felt a blissful sense of distress.
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