As Kisho delivered his merciless declaration of victory, Nobunaga's face had already gone black. Yet Shalnark still couldn't resist pouring oil on the fire:
"Uh-oh, Nobunaga, looks like your title of 'arm strength inferior to a Specialist' is never coming off now!"
"Y—"
A cold flash of light—Nobunaga's katana blade pointed straight at the tip of the annoying guy's nose who was kicking him while he was down.
"Shut up! No matter what, I'm still stronger than you!"
After intimidating the foul-mouthed Shalnark, Nobunaga's gaze slowly shifted to Kisho, his tone full of doubt.
"Are you really a Specialist?"
Kisho shook his arm that hurt like hell, grinning as he shoved it toward Machi.
While receiving treatment from the expressionless Machi, he raised his other hand to stroke his chin.
"Maybe. I'm not too sure myself right now."
Everyone: "…"
"You don't even know what type you belong to?" Feitan narrowed his eyes. "Or do you need to suffer a bit before you're willing to talk honestly?"
"What are you trying to do?" Kisho became alert. "The boss said we can't kill each other!"
"Heh~"
Feitan let out a cold laugh, his gaze unfriendly, just about to say more—when Chrollo spoke up:
"I roughly understand Kisho's Nen ability."
Hearing this, Kisho looked at him in shock.
But Chrollo had no intention of explaining. He slowly walked over to Nobunaga, and under his calm, faintly smiling gaze, Nobunaga consciously stepped aside to make room.
After sitting down, Chrollo looked at Kisho. At the exact moment Machi snapped the Nen thread and finished the stitching, he smiled slightly and pointed to the chair opposite him.
"Come."
The intent couldn't have been clearer.
Kisho froze, his face scrunched in misery.
"Again?"
Chrollo smiled.
"If your arm breaks again this time, you can put the cost on my tab."
Kisho: "…"
Money aside—having your arm broken over and over really, really hurts!
Although Chrollo was smiling, looking easy to negotiate with, Kisho knew very well that his refusal would absolutely not work.
Silently, Kisho sat down across from Chrollo and extended his hand.
"Two rounds," Chrollo ordered calmly. "First round, don't use the badge. Second round, you may."
Kisho replied flatly, "Oh."
"Then, the three hundred and thirty-fourth match begins."
Shalnark placed his hand on the table once more, about to give the signal. Beside him, Phinks glanced over, whistled, and teased:
"Shalnark, opening bets?"
Shalnark shot him an annoyed glare.
"No! What's the point of opening a completely one-sided bet!"
Then he straightened his face and declared seriously:
"—Three, two, one, start!"
Almost at the exact same moment as "start," a crisp sound of bones cracking rang out.
The surrounding spiders all showed expressions of "just as expected."
Gently placing a severed arm segment onto the tabletop, Chrollo spoke calmly:
"Nobunaga's judgment was correct. Without using Nen abilities, Kisho's wrist strength really isn't much different from that of an ordinary person."
Shalnark frowned.
"But the problem is, even if you don't use Nen during the match, as long as you've learned 'Ten' before, your body should always be reinforced by aura. It shouldn't be just at an ordinary person's level."
Kisho sat there blankly, staring at his broken arm. Only now did he feel the intense pain at the fracture.
A completely different sensation from when he competed with Nobunaga.
In terms of pure physical ability, Chrollo's level was even above Nobunaga's.
He stared at the guy sitting opposite him, who had just snapped a teammate's arm yet still wore an innocent expression.
Was this kind of "Specialist" really the same Specialist he remembered—one evaluated as "not good at combat and only able to trouble enemies through non-combat means"?
Clearly a Specialist not skilled in close combat, yet capable of training his physical attributes to surpass Enhancers—
This person was truly terrifying…
Kisho took a deep breath, his gaze growing firmer.
He wouldn't just admit defeat like this. On the contrary, once he had a clear goal he wanted to surpass, it only made his fighting spirit rise higher, didn't it?
"Machi."
Chrollo noticed Kisho's gaze, smiled slightly, and gestured that Machi could get to work. For the sake of jenny, Machi "worked tirelessly" as she walked over and stitched Kisho's arm yet again.
"—All done."
After more than ten seconds, she retracted the Nen thread, turned her head toward Chrollo, and after a few seconds calmly suggested:
"This time should be the last."
"Severed blood vessels, neurons, and the like—even though they're stitched back and don't affect movement or reaction speed, the damage still needs time to recover."
Machi stated the facts evenly.
"The damage inside the kid's arm—blood vessels and muscles—is more serious than it looks."
"If this happens a few more times, his arm will be completely ruined."
"I understand."
Chrollo nodded with a smile, then looked back at Kisho.
"Last time. Come."
Kisho gave a soft "Mm," raised his hand, and placed it on the table.
"I don't know if you've noticed."
When their hands clasped, Chrollo suddenly said,
"Your strength, reactions, and speed are much weaker than when you fought Shalnark this morning."
Kisho froze.
Seeing the blank look on his face, Chrollo smiled helplessly.
"Seems you didn't notice."
Kisho: "…"
"I was curious before about the Transmutation-type ability you could use," Chrollo said softly. "Now it seems that after I returned your Nen ability to you, your category should have changed."
The moment Kisho realized what Chrollo had said, his expression changed drastically.
The others also looked at Chrollo in shock. Uvogin asked bluntly:
"That's impossible, right?! Even if you can use abilities from side branches, your original category—shouldn't it be impossible to change?!"
Chrollo smiled slightly.
"That's the strange thing about Kisho—his Nen category can change."
The way everyone looked at Kisho became… different.
Chrollo spoke slowly:
"Come. After this round, it'll be clear."
"This time, you may use your badge."
After the command "start" was given, as power suddenly erupted from their clasped hands, the already cracked table emitted an overwhelmed creaking sound.
A moment later, Feitan's interest grew thicker, like a child who had discovered a new toy.
"The kid actually held on."
Machi glanced at Nobunaga, showing no mercy.
"When Nobunaga sparred with the boss before, the longest he ever lasted was about this long."
Shalnark raised two fingers.
"That means we can confirm it now—there are two Specialists in the troupe who surpass Enhancers."
The repeatedly whipped corpse, Nobunaga: "…"
Kisho no longer had the mental space to care about anyone else. All his focus was on the match before him.
Cold sweat slid down from his temples drop by drop. Though it looked evenly matched, he could clearly feel that his arm had reached its limit—it could no longer withstand this power that far exceeded its tolerance.
He raised his head and stared at Chrollo's expressionless face. From it, he could hardly see any sign of a limit.
But so what?
As long as he didn't want to lose, he could—
Keep holding on!
The badge clenched in his palm suddenly grew scorching hot.
Even more magnificent aura burst forth from every cell in Kisho's body, converging like a tsunami toward his right arm, charging without hesitation into everything blocking its path—