Almost at the exact moment Shalnark shouted to start, Kisho's hand was slammed heavily onto the table by a terrifying force, letting out a loud "bang".
Finger bones shattered, and the blood seeping from the skin instantly dyed the tabletop red.
A barely audible "crack" came from his arm.
Kisho pressed his lips together, expressionless, as a bead of cold sweat slid down from his temple.
"Tsk, that was really brutal, Nobunaga~"
Shalnark was the first to speak in the silence, breaking it and easing the awkwardness.
He squinted and smiled.
"Well, still, you can count this as beating a Specialist!"
Nobunaga silently raised his hand.
An extremely disdainful look appeared on his face.
"What the hell! Beating this brat isn't any kind of achievement at all—"
He angrily grabbed onto the mistake in Shalnark's words.
"What do you mean 'beating a Specialist'? Can the boss's Specialist ability be compared to ordinary Specialists?!"
Kisho slightly widened his eyes, staring at his arm twisted outward at a bizarre angle, and fell silent.
Strength was secondary. The key issue was that Nobunaga's reaction was far too fast.
The instant Shalnark finished saying "start," he had already gathered his full strength into his wrist, leaving Kisho no time to react, and won at an overwhelming speed.
If he hadn't used Ren at the last moment to reinforce the "Ten" protecting his hand, his hand would probably have been completely ruined.
He had thought he'd made considerable progress.
After regaining his Nen ability, he'd even developed the illusion that he was already strong enough.
Fortunately, this defeat came fast enough, and violently enough—like a heavy blow smashed down on his head, leaving him completely clear-headed.
—There will always be people stronger than you in this world. If you want to live, you have to put yourself low enough and face every enemy with humility.
"Machi, could you help me out?"
Kisho turned his head toward Machi. Meeting her calm, rippless gaze, he helplessly added,
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Put it on my tab…"
Under Machi's "at least you know better" look, Nen needles threaded with Nen strings flew swiftly. In just over ten seconds, the broken arm was perfectly stitched back together.
Kisho moved his fingers. Aside from the unavoidable pain, both flexibility and dexterity were almost no different from before.
"That's amazing!"
He lavishly praised Machi's stitching, then looked toward Nobunaga, his gaze firm.
"Let's do it again."
"Huh?"
Nobunaga, who had already planned to switch people, stared at Kisho in surprise the moment he heard that. He then raised a hand, dug his pinky into his nose, let his eyelids droop, and spoke without interest.
"Forget it. No matter how many times we do this, the result'll be the same."
His gaze swept over the people around them and finally landed on Kortopi in the corner.
"Mm. I suggest you try against Kortopi first."
Kortopi lifted his head in extreme displeasure. From behind the hair covering most of his face, a murderous look flashed in his eyes.
"No."
Kisho refused calmly.
"I'm not convinced. One more time."
Black lines crossed Nobunaga's face.
"Hey, hey, what exactly are you not convinced about? If I really have to say it…"
He thought for a moment, searching for words.
"Your wrist strength might not even be better than Kortopi's. Honestly, if I hadn't seen you use Nen before, I'd think you were just an ordinary person."
Kisho shrugged indifferently.
"Oh? Is that so?"
He placed his arm on the table.
"Come on."
Nobunaga's face darkened as he slammed the table angrily.
"Are you even listening to what I'm saying, you little brat?!"
"Nobunaga."
At that moment, Chrollo's cool voice came over, stopping Nobunaga just as he was about to switch people.
He looked at Nobunaga and asked calmly,
"You just said that Kisho's wrist strength is like that of an ordinary person?"
"…Yeah. More or less."
Nobunaga replied, then quickly realized something was off.
Beside him, Machi pinpointed the issue in one sentence.
"If the brat's wrist strength were really close to an ordinary person's, there's no way he could've beaten Shalnark."
"That's true."
Shalnark nodded in agreement.
"No matter how lousy I am, I couldn't possibly lose to a normal person."
"But Nobunaga's judgment shouldn't be wrong."
Chrollo calmly turned toward Kisho.
"When you just competed, you didn't use the badge, right."
He reached out and lightly rested his hand on Kisho's shoulder.
"Try using the badge this time."
Nobunaga raised an eyebrow, dissatisfied.
"That's cheating, isn't it?! Arm wrestling is about pure wrist strength, right?!"
"Ah, I just want to test a hypothesis."
Chrollo looked at Nobunaga gently and smiled.
"Any objections?"
Nobunaga: "..."
How would he dare?!
The two who had "reached a consensus" took their positions again.
"Well then, let's count this as the second round of the three hundred and thirty-third match."
Shalnark pressed down on their hands.
"Anyone want to place a bet?"
He instantly imagined the completely one-sided odds and sighed.
"—Forget it, this bet probably won't even—"
Before he could finish speaking, someone spoke up.
"I bet on Kisho. One million Jenny."
Everyone sucked in a sharp breath, staring in disbelief at the person who had suddenly joined the betting.
"Boss, are you serious?!"
Kisho also looked at him in shock.
Though he knew perfectly well that this person absolutely wasn't betting out of support for him…
"I just want to verify my guess."
Chrollo remained unfazed by the stabbing looks from the troupe members. He raised his hand and rubbed Kisho's head, issuing a warning that didn't sound like one at all.
"If you dare to lose on purpose, heh."
Kisho froze, then let out a silly chuckle as if he'd been seen through.
To be honest, he really had been thinking about just losing again—watching Chrollo win money would feel even worse than losing himself.
On the other hand, if Chrollo lost money, he'd definitely be happy enough to take off!
Meanwhile, after hearing what the boss had said, Nobunaga's face darkened, his resentment making him look like an abandoned young wife.
"Boss, are you saying that if he doesn't lose on purpose, I can't win?!"
Unable to vent his anger at the boss, Nobunaga glared viciously at Kisho.
"I'm serious now! This time, I'm going to make Machi use twice as many Nen strings!"
Kisho: "..."
The two took their positions.
Following Chrollo's instructions, he materialized a badge and held it in his other hand resting on the table.
Shalnark: "Ready—three, two, one—!"
As the command "start" reached his ears, a completely different sensation from before caused a faint glimmer to flash through Kisho's eyes.
The ears transmitted the signal to the brain, and the brain then transmitted the information to the wrist.
Signal transmission takes time. But this time, Kisho clearly captured that infinitesimally brief moment—how power erupted from Nobunaga's wrist, and how it was stubbornly blocked by his own strength.
At the instant the back of his hand was about to touch the tabletop, he matched Nobunaga's movement and counterattacked without hesitation!
The onlookers burst into surprise.
They had thought Kisho would be instantly crushed again like last time, but unexpectedly, the boy who had been utterly helpless just seconds ago seemed like a completely different person.
The two hands on the table were locked tightly together, every muscle in both arms stretched to the limit.
Nobunaga's once-casual expression grew increasingly serious as time passed.
One second, two seconds, three seconds…
Under the crowd's utterly incredulous gazes, the boy who had been at a disadvantage slowly turned the tide back—then suddenly let out a low shout.
With a loud "bang," accompanied by the sound of the back of a hand slamming into the table, a crack split the solid wooden table down the middle.
The match was over.
The boy gasped for breath, staring at the utterly stunned Nobunaga. The arm hanging at his side trembled uncontrollably.
The power he still couldn't fully control had inflicted extremely severe damage on the muscles and blood vessels in his arm.
But it didn't matter anymore.
He slowly revealed a smile toward Nobunaga.
"This round—was my win!"