The sudden surge in aura output signified Feitan's death.
Morrow watched as Rising Sun dissipated above the cemetery, then glanced down at the back of his hand.
The character representing his level had unknowingly changed to Lv.52.
Feitan's level had undoubtedly surpassed Lv.60.
Even when Feitan activated his Nen ability, the overwhelming aura Morrow sensed suggested his level was far from low.
However, this upper limit breakthrough was primarily due to the nature of his Nen ability, similar to Shalnark's, rather than Feitan's true level.
Even so, Morrow had assumed there was at least a ten-level gap between himself and Feitan. Yet, after killing Feitan, he had only risen by 2 levels.
However, Morrow slowly raised his right hand, observing the torrent-like aura output surging across his palm and entire arm.
Such a drastic change in intensity couldn't possibly come from a mere 2-level increase.
Indeed, Lv.51 is a threshold.
Morrow quietly contemplated the noticeable shift in his aura output.
From Lv.40 to Lv.50, he had felt a steady increase in aura output.
But the numerical growth per level was too rigid. Based on his experience, even if he reached Lv.60, Lv.70, or Lv.80, comparing it to the aura he had witnessed from Maha…
The gap would still feel insurmountable.
Thus, within this level-based framework of abilities, there was likely a threshold.
Initially, Morrow had reasoned that, constrained by the level system, the threshold would most likely appear at the midpoint, Lv.50.
Yet when he actually reached Lv.50, his aura output continued to rise steadily without any significant breakthrough.
Later, he considered the mechanism where one had to reach Lv.21 to awaken their Nen ability, leading him to speculate that the real change might come at Lv.51.
Now, having broken through to Lv.51, his aura output had indeed undergone a qualitative leap.
And also…
Morrow shifted his gaze to the back of his left hand.
The red X symbol representing the Death Threshold had vanished.
The sense of urgency from the time constraint dissipated, leaving Morrow feeling significantly lighter.
Yet along with that relief came a faint trace of regret and melancholy.
The disappearance of the Death Threshold meant he could no longer activate the Death Replay, depriving him of a unique training method.
At this thought, Morrow shook his head slightly, casting aside the lingering regret.
Now that he had overcome the Death Threshold and achieved a high level of sensitivity to bloodlust, deliberately seeking out the Death Replay would be nothing more than unnecessary suffering.
Feitan was dead.
Neither now nor in the future would anything related to Feitan hold any place in his life.
Morrow slowly withdrew his gaze and turned to Kurapika and Kalluto.
The two were still in shock, clearly overwhelmed by the destructive power of Rising Sun.
Morrow understood their reaction.
Feitan's Rising Sun had many flaws, from its activation conditions to its execution.
But once unleashed, its power surpassed what any human's Ken could withstand. Even the Chimera Ant squadron leaders from the original work, who possessed greater aura output than humans, would completely lose their ability to resist under the scorching heat of Rising Sun.
Only the fireproof suit conjured by Feitan could fully nullify any form of damage inflicted by Rising Sun.
Thus, the saying from the original work, "Only Nen can oppose Nen," still held profound truth.
Kurapika and Kalluto were naturally shocked by the devastating power unleashed by Rising Sun, but they quickly noticed Morrow's relaxed demeanor and immediately realized something.
"Is it over, Morrow?" Kalluto suppressed the turmoil in his heart, tilting his head slightly to look at Morrow as he asked softly.
Morrow nodded. "Yes, it's over."
Hearing this, Kalluto's face lit up with a smile of joy for Morrow, though he couldn't help but think that Morrow was indeed more formidable...
Even against an opponent with such overwhelming Nen, Morrow had resolved the battle in such a short time.
Then, Kalluto recalled their father's warning.
Don't provoke the Phantom Troupe...
Now, having witnessed the strength displayed by one of its members firsthand, he truly understood the weight of that warning.
"I still have a long way to go," Kalluto silently reflected.
Beside him, Kurapika stood dazed, his expression a mix of bewilderment and desolation.
Morrow, however, noticed the blood pooling at Kurapika's feet.
Feitan, intent on torturing Kurapika to death, had deliberately inflicted numerous non-fatal cuts across his body.
The torrential rain washed the blood from his wounds, scattering and gathering at his feet.
"Kurapika, use your ability to treat your wounds first," Morrow reminded him.
Kurapika slowly regained his focus, confused by Morrow's words. "What?"
"Your ability can heal, can't it?" Morrow asked matter-of-factly.
Kurapika replied weakly, as if drained from blood loss, "My ability is the Chain Jail for offense and the Dowsing Chain for automatic defense... They don't have healing properties."
"Is that so..." Morrow's eyes flickered slightly, realizing that due to the butterfly effect he had caused, Kurapika had still developed his Conjuration ability, but its form had changed somewhat.
Or perhaps, the current Kurapika hadn't fully perfected the chains yet, focusing solely on offense and defense.
"Kalluto, the medicine," Morrow turned to Kalluto.
Before deciding to take action against Feitan, Morrow had not only prepared thoroughly in terms of Nen abilities and tactics but also considered post-battle measures.
With Kalluto's help, he had procured the Zoldyck Family's specialized medicine for treating external and internal injuries in advance.
However, thanks to the targeted effectiveness of his Nen abilities and intelligence support, Morrow had defeated Feitan without injury, rendering the medicine unnecessary.
But now, it could be used for Kurapika, who was severely wounded.
Upon hearing Morrow's words, Kalluto first carefully inspected Morrow's body to confirm he was unharmed before retrieving the medicine pack. When they left the cemetery, Kalluto had already noticed the blood trailing behind Kurapika, mixing with the rainwater, realizing that his injuries might be more severe than they appeared on the surface.
Even so, Kalluto didn't take the initiative to offer any medicine to help Kurapika.
These medicines were prepared for Morrow. Even if there was only the slightest chance they might be needed, in Kalluto's eyes, they were far more important than Kurapika's life.
Now that the battle was over and it was confirmed that Morrow wouldn't need them, Kalluto finally handed the medical kit to Kurapika without hesitation.
But Morrow reached out and took the kit from Kalluto's hands—in Kurapika's current state, there was no way he could tend to his own wounds.
"Help block the rain, Kalluto."
"Mm."
Kalluto glanced at Kurapika before raising the large paper umbrella high, shielding them from most of the wind and rain.
Morrow unwrapped the kit, taking out the ointment and bandages, then swiftly applied them to Kurapika's wounds.
The priority was stopping the bleeding as quickly as possible. If too much time passed, Kurapika might go into shock from blood loss.
And when it came to treating external injuries, the Zoldyck Family's specialized medicine was undoubtedly top-tier.
"Done."
After bandaging the wounds, Morrow wrung out Kurapika's coat before draping it back over him.
The Zoldyck ointment would quickly solidify over the wounds, forming an effective barrier to stop bleeding and accelerate healing, with no need to worry about water affecting its efficacy.
But this exceptional medicine had one drawback; it tended to leave scars.
For most people who needed this kind of treatment, however, scars were the least of their concerns.
"The commotion earlier was a bit too loud. Let's get out of here first."
Morrow glanced back at the distant cemetery.
Kurapika hesitated for a moment before murmuring, "Morrow… can I… go over there for a moment?"
"Hm?"
Morrow turned to look at Kurapika's face, still seeing exhaustion and pain in his eyes.
Logically, he didn't agree with Kurapika's request to return to the cemetery.
But emotionally, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
"Go ahead."
Considering that the heavy rain would wash away any traces, Morrow gave his consent.
The three of them braved the storm and returned to the cemetery.
After being scorched by the intense heat of Rising Sun, the entire cemetery had turned into a wasteland of charred earth, with only the central altar retaining some semblance of its original shape.
Morrow's gaze swept over the blackened land around them, a faint sense of remorse stirring in his chest.
Then his eyes fell on the spot where Feitan had once stood, now reduced to nothing more than a small, shriveled lump of charcoal.
Kurapika also saw the blackened remains Feitan had left behind. He walked over slowly, lowering his head in silence as he stared at the charred mass.
In his chest, the fury born from knowing Feitan was the mastermind behind the torture of his clansmen still burned, but more than that, there was a deep sense of powerlessness—anger at his own inadequacy.
All these emotions tangled together like a mess of threads, leaving Kurapika even more disoriented and lost.
His hands trembled slightly before he raised one, pressing it against his face. Through his fingers, he could feel something warm—different from the cold rain—trickling down.
"Ah… ah…"
He didn't know how to vent the complicated, suffocating weight in his heart. Like a child, he could only let out meaningless murmurs, as if doing so might ease the pain inside him even just a little. Morrow and Kalluto were watching from behind.
But Kalluto couldn't understand Kurapika's reaction and immediately cast a questioning look at Morrow.
Unable to answer Kalluto's question, Morrow could only reach out and pat the little one's head, as if saying: Don't ask so many questions, kid.
Kalluto immediately resisted, puffing up with anger as they swatted Morrow's hand away.
Morrow withdrew his hand and silently stared at Kurapika's retreating figure.
The empathy humans possess...
Sometimes it truly interferes with rational judgment.
Morrow sighed softly in his heart.
He was considering whether to go all the way and kill the members of the Phantom Troupe one by one...