Blood gushed like a spring from the headless neck, instantly washed away by the torrential rain.
Shalnark's head rolled into a puddle, his wide eyes frozen with unwillingness, the dim pupils still retaining the shock from his final moments.
Splash, splash.
Morrow stepped through the puddles, muddy water spraying with each footfall.
He looked down at the mud-splattered head.
Lv.52→Lv.54
His gaze shifted from Shalnark's lifeless, unblinking face to the level characters on the back of his hand.
This Phantom Troupe member responsible for intelligence analysis had ultimately contributed two levels worth of experience.
Morrow could feel the change in his aura output, still a steady growth.
It seemed that after breaking through the level 51 bottleneck, the subsequent growth curve hadn't changed much from before level 51.
For most Nen users, initial increases in Nen output often come easily.
This was likely because potential power had already accumulated in their bodies before awakening their Nen abilities.
Thus, upon awakening, they would experience an explosive period of growth.
However, as aura output levels continued to rise, progress would gradually slow in the mid-to-late stages, even stagnating.
Talent, potential, training methods...
Too many factors could become shackles limiting growth.
For this reason, the increase in aura output Morrow gained with each level was already substantial.
Pity... no Post-Mortem Will.
Morrow stared down at Shalnark's face, frozen in unwillingness.
「Black Voice」
This ability's Autopilot mode could directly surpass the user's limits.
If he could extract related ability materials through Post-Mortem Will, he might develop a similar explosive power ability, allowing his Emission Nen bullets to achieve a qualitative leap in power.
Combined with the locking effect of 「Star Mark」, it would be equivalent to a Manipulation-type one-hit-kill tactical style.
But there were no ifs.
The conditions for Post-Mortem Will were too stringent.
Even Nen users like Feitan, who developed abilities through extreme emotions, left no echoes of obsession after death, let alone someone like Shalnark, known for his calm rationality.
Morrow bent down to pick up Shalnark's head, suddenly struck by a thought...
If the probability of Post-Mortem Will depended on the intensity of the deceased's emotions, then...
By mastering a semi-compulsory or suggestive Manipulation ability that could control emotions, could he artificially increase the chances of Post-Mortem Will forming?
Once this idea took root, it spread like wildfire through Morrow's mind.
After all, to him, Post-Mortem Will was irreplaceable in value.
It might work, but it won't be easy.
Carrying the head, Morrow walked toward the headless body in the distance.
To other Exorcists, Post-Mortem Will was something to be avoided.
Without vested interests, few Exorcists would willingly deal with Post-Mortem Will.
But to Morrow, the chosen Exorcist, Post-Mortem Will was an exceedingly scarce resource.
Judging from the current rings charge mechanism, it was almost certain that charging the third Tree Ring would be even more difficult. By the fourth and fifth rings...
It goes without saying.
So if he could realize this idea, it would at least ensure the charging efficiency of Tree Rings.
However, to test the feasibility of this idea, the prerequisite was mastering an ability that could manipulate emotions.
This matter was still somewhat distant.
For now, the second ring was about to be fully charged, and the Death Threshold had already been resolved...
Morrow shook his head slightly. Though he had such thoughts, he wasn't so eager to act on them yet.
Holding Shalnark's severed head, Morrow approached the headless corpse, intending to dispose of the evidence.
A corpse itself was a carrier of information.
Combat style, ability traits, even the posture at the moment of death could all become clues for investigation.
So, with the confirmation that the Troupe members were on their way, destroying the evidence became the top priority.
After all, Shalnark's ability wasn't as convenient as Feitan's, which allowed him to self-immolate.
But even if Shalnark's corpse was destroyed, if the Troupe eventually traced it back to him, these cleanup measures would be largely meaningless.
Not to mention, he had used the Deceptive Shooting Star ability while chasing Shalnark earlier. Anyone with half a brain could deduce his Emission Nen type from the battlefield traces.
But whether it was meaningful or not didn't stop Morrow from doing it.
The commotion from the fight was too loud. I need to deal with this quickly.
Holding Shalnark's head in one hand and his torso in the other, Morrow prepared to blast them into pieces with Shooting Star.
Beep, beep, beep, beep...
Just then, the phone on Shalnark's body rang.
Morrow merely glanced at the pocket of the headless corpse's clothes, ignoring the incoming call, and focused aura into his palm.
Boom!
Morrow turned and walked away.
The shockwave from the explosion sent chunks of flesh flying into the rain, scattering like filthy fireworks before crashing down behind him.
After reducing Shalnark's corpse to fragments, Morrow left Fengde Town as quickly as possible, heading toward Kalluto and the others.
Shalnark was the Troupe's information hub.
For the Troupe, Shalnark's ability was irreplaceable when it came to gathering intel and formulating plans.
Now that Shalnark was gone, the Troupe's intelligence network would be thrown into chaos, at least in the short term.
Though, given the Troupe's nature, they would eventually find a replacement, but this window of opportunity was more than enough.
Morrow glanced back at Fengde Town, shrouded in rain. Rubbing his fingertips together, he wiped away the last traces of blood, as if he could still feel the weight of Shalnark's head in his hand.
While disposing of Shalnark's body, he had considered lying in wait for the next Troupe member to arrive.
But this tempting thought was quickly suppressed by reason.
The uncertainty of intel was too great. He only knew Phinks was coming but couldn't predict whether other members would accompany him.
"This is enough."
Morrow murmured to himself before vanishing into the rain.
The Death Threshold had been lifted, and the Troupe's intelligence network had been weakened. He understood the principle of not biting off more than one could chew better than anyone.
—--
At the same time.
A car sped through the heavy rain.
"Shalnark isn't answering."
In the driver's seat, Phinks gripped the steering wheel with one hand and held a phone in the other.
He had naturally fierce-looking upturned eyes and no eyebrows, making his brow bones stand out even more, intensifying his menacing aura. The news of Feitan's death and Shalnark's unanswered calls had put Phinks in a foul mood, his face twisted into such a vicious scowl that he looked ready to kill at any moment.
In the passenger seat, Nobunaga, with his topknot and sparse beard, rested his black-sheathed sword across his lap, casting a sidelong glance at Phinks, who radiated hostility.
"Rein in your killing intent, Phinks… Right now, it's just me and Uvogin in the car, not the people you want to kill."
"Save the lecture."
Phinks slammed the accelerator, the needle on the dashboard trembling violently as it veered into the red zone. "If deep breaths could solve everything, then the world would've been..."
"Suit yourself."
Nobunaga cut him off bluntly, closing his eyes and lightly stroking the scabbard, his fingers tracing the hilt's ornaments. "I was just reminding you as a comrade to stay calm. Seems I overstepped."
"..."
Phinks fell silent, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
The sound of tires splashing through puddles filled the car's tense silence, the windshield wipers sweeping back and forth like the throbbing vein at his temple.
In the back seat, Uvogin sat like a massive bear, taking up the entire space.
Arms crossed, he remained silent.
But Nobunaga knew Uvogin felt the same as Phinks right now.
Like a volcano on the verge of eruption, Uvogin wouldn't release this fury unless he faced the killer himself.
Nobunaga gazed out the rain-blurred window.
Though he and Uvogin often clashed with Feitan and Phinks, they were still comrades who'd grown up together…
How could they not care?
His expression darkened further.
Like Uvogin, he would only unleash this rage when he faced the real culprit, along with the blade in his hand.
But that mindset was soon overturned.
Fengde Town.
Shalnark wasn't the only one who had died, there was also the mayor, who had been under the control of an ability.
So when Phinks and the others arrived, the town was in chaos.
The mayor's death was nothing but bad news for the three of them.
They knew the mayor had been under Shalnark's ability before. His death now suggested Shalnark had likely been in a fight.
The town's disorder also made it easy for them to find the area cordoned off by police tape.
The scattered flesh and blood inside belonged to the second victim, other than the mayor.
Phinks kicked aside one of the tape's support poles, the rubber cord flailing weakly in the rain.
The three stepped over the police barrier and walked straight toward the largest concentration of gore.
With every step, their shoes crushed not just rainwater but also the unrecognizable fragments of human remains scattered around.
"Hey, stop..."
The officers on-site hadn't expected anyone to barge into the crime scene so brazenly, so their reaction was delayed.
But the moment they moved, Nobunaga's blade sent their heads flying.
There was only one reason for drawing his sword, they had pulled their guns.
As the officers' heads hit the ground, the umbrella-wielding onlookers froze for a second before screaming in terror and fleeing in panic.
Nobunaga and the others paid them no mind. Phinks crouched down and used his fingers to push aside a piece of flesh clinging to fabric fragments.
Under the rain's relentless wash, faint traces of a tattoo could be seen on the flesh, a slender black segmented limb, barely recognizable as part of a spider tattoo.
Phinks' pupils contracted to pinpricks, his other hand clenching tightly with a sound like cracking knuckles.
Uvogin and Nobunaga also noticed the piece of flesh in Phinks' hand, their gazes involuntarily sweeping the surroundings.
Beyond the still-warm corpses of law enforcement officers, within the cordoned-off area, red human tissue was scattered everywhere.
Utterly pulverized.
This was not something that could have happened in battle.
Whoever had attacked Shalnark had killed him first, then violently shattered his corpse.
"Boom!"
Uvogin slammed his fist into the ground in fury.
With a deafening impact, a small crater formed where his fist struck.
It seemed he had remembered at the last moment that the ground was littered with pieces of Shalnark's body, so he held back his strength.
Nobunaga rested a hand on his sword hilt, silently watching as Uvogin slowly withdrew his fist.
He had thought the cold, murderous rage in his chest would only erupt when he faced the perpetrator, alongside his drawn blade.
He was wrong.
Right now, he was no different from Phinks, seething with fury, unleashing that icy, wrathful bloodlust without restraint.
"Whoever you are..."
Nobunaga's gaze shifted to the bloodied remains on the ground, his right hand gripping the hilt tightly, his eyes radiating lethal intent.
"We will find you… and carve you into a thousand pieces."
Just then, the shrill wail of police sirens grew louder, approaching from a distance.
Phinks, already in the worst possible mood, found the encroaching sirens unbearably grating.
"Shut the hell up."
His face twisted into a vicious snarl.
Without any surprise, the law enforcement officers who arrived at the scene were swiftly reduced to ashes by the trio's wrath.
—--
A day later, three more members of the Phantom Troupe arrived in Fengde Town.
Leading them was Chrollo, flanked by Pakunoda and Kortopi.
"A corpse can be a vessel for information."
Inside a building, Chrollo stared at the barely reassembled pile of flesh on a steel table.
"That is the motive behind the deliberate destruction of Shalnark's body."
On another steel table nearby lay Feitan's charred remains, dried, shriveled, barely recognizable as human after being scorched by extreme heat.
"However, judging by the traces of battle at the scene, the opponent was clearly an Emission-type Nen user."
Chrollo's voice remained steady, but a flicker of coldness passed through his eyes.
"So, the actual significance of destroying the body… is minimal."
His tone was like that of a precise machine, devoid of emotion.
Yet Phinks and the others standing nearby knew all too well, Chrollo's inner turmoil was far from as composed as his exterior.
Uvogin's eyes gleamed with menace, his voice a low growl.
"If it's meaningless, then that bastard was just trying to provoke us?"
"No."
Chrollo shook his head slightly, his gaze lingering on Feitan's blackened remains.
"This seemingly redundant behavior only proves the opponent is cautious. And yet, someone this cautious dared to take the risk of exploiting Feitan's ability mid-battle, where the tide can shift in an instant."
"Boss, you mean…" Nobunaga frowned. They all knew what Feitan's ability was like, and he immediately said in a low voice, "Did that guy already have intel on Feitan's ability before attacking him?"
"We can't rule out that possibility."
Chrollo lightly pressed his index finger against his chin, his voice still calm:
"But even if the enemy did have the intel, I don't believe there was a leak from within our ranks. Still... just to be safe, I think it's necessary to have Pakunoda use her ability to verify. Everyone must be checked."
"I have no objections."
Nobunaga immediately voiced his agreement.
For the team, trust was crucial.