Chapter 91: The Old Magician's Curtain Call × The Stitched Reality
Evil has two origins—some carry it in their genes, others cultivate it through experience.
Moritonio belonged to the former. He chose magic performance because he enjoyed the audience's expressions of wonder and delight. But magic shows always end. The sense of wonder fades, leaving only emptiness. Moritonio would seek ever-greater thrills, chasing that high endlessly—until he could no longer extract even a shred of emotional satisfaction from his own family's expressions of surprise.
Moritonio knew he'd become desensitized. So he killed his younger sister.
He harvested one final wave of pleasure from her expression of disbelief.
He remembered that day with perfect clarity. The trembling excitement that seized him. It was as if he'd discovered a new continent. Using "Scarface"—his face-changing ability—as camouflage, and wielding "Blood Magnet"—the magnetic crushing power—he roamed the darkness, savoring the terror and despair etched on victims' faces before death. From that moment, he crossed a point of no return.
"I often feel empty after my performances end," he'd once told Hisoka after a show. "To fill that void, I continually seek new thrills, developing new magic tricks."
But now, that girl was irrelevant. Hisoka didn't matter either.
Moritonio's gaze locked onto Roy with burning intensity—the same hunger he'd felt the day he murdered his sister. That soul-trembling excitement returned. A prodigy! A young prodigy! One he could harvest without needing to cultivate first! Was there anything more pleasurable than killing him?
"Hehehehe... the boss seems excited, doesn't he?"
"The show's just begun. Looks like I arrived at the perfect time."
Footsteps echoed through the night. Two pointed clown shoes emerged from the darkness. Hisoka perched atop the wall, elbows resting casually on his knees, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield.
Gotoh calmed the terrified girl while subtly raising his guard, positioning himself closer to Roy without any obvious movement.
"Don't worry about him," Roy said quietly. The cane sword thrashed in his hands, struggling against his control. He gave it a gentle caress, and it stilled.
"A swordsman's blade is supreme. Where the blade is, the wielder lives. Where the blade breaks, the wielder dies," his master, Sakonji Urokodaki, had told him on the first day Roy held a sword. Roy had always been an obedient student—and he conducted himself accordingly.
The cane sword emitted a sharp cry of protest—irritated at being controlled, urging Roy to strike now.
The boy's lips curved into a smile. Without any visible motion, his form flickered. He deployed his signature technique, "Shadowless Step," and in an instant appeared before Moritonio, thrusting the blade forward.
"Sun Breathing, Sixth Form: Flame Wheel!"
The blade's edge ignited against the air. Moritonio sensed the scorching heat and reacted in panic, channeling Ren and transforming it into a Hatsu. He wrapped magnetic force around compressed steel, forming several iron shields before his body.
"Crack... crack... crack..."
One shield shattered. Two shattered. Three crumbled, exposing the unguarded serial killer beneath. In Moritonio's horrified gaze, the blade pierced deep into his shoulder blade.
"That's fast..." Hisoka's eyes narrowed.
"That's sharp swordsmanship!" Moritonio's bleeding shoulder rippled as he peeled away a paper-thin layer of aura—Scarface—and retreated from the blade, exposing the wall behind him where Roy's cane sword had carved a massive hole.
Gotoh noted the gossamer-thin sheet of Nen skin. His brow furrowed. "An illusion?"
The young master had aimed for the throat, yet the blade struck the wall instead. Gotoh refused to believe he'd missed by such a margin.
"It's more than that. There's also magnetic pressure," Hisoka explained. He'd observed Moritonio for years. Whenever the boss performed his "Sky Swimming" act, the metal jewelry worn by front-row spectators would involuntarily drift toward him—attracted like iron to a magnet.
"The blade deviated because of magnetic pressure," Hisoka said with admiration. "That's the boss—he can attract or repel. The refined steel can't penetrate his body."
"Hisoka, perhaps I should have killed you ages ago," Moritonio muttered, flicking his wrist. He conjured a magnetic force to snag a nearby streetlamp and swung himself upward, creating distance between himself and Roy.
For a mature Nen user, having one's techniques exposed placed them at a severe disadvantage. This was hard-earned wisdom from an aspiring Hunter who'd failed the exam years ago.
That year, only one person passed the test. His name now echoed across the world: Botobai Gigante.
Moritonio had been formidable, but he'd faced Botobai Gigante during the Hunter Exam. Botobai had been straightforward with him afterward: "Moritonio, you're strong. Unfortunately, you met me. Had you continued taking the Hunter Exam, you would've won the next one."
But I came seeking thrills, not humiliation, Moritonio had thought. He couldn't accept that his performance would end in failure. So he abandoned the Hunter Association, chose worldwide circus tours—and picked up Hisoka along the way.
The old magician now clung to his severed arm, balanced atop the streetlamp.
Without hesitation, he swept his hand downward. "Blood Magnet" activated. Dozens of magnetic spikes materialized mid-air, screaming toward Roy.
This was his opportunity to escape, to break free from today's trap.
"Hehehehe... he's running away, is he?" Hisoka suddenly stood, dropping his lazy posture. A stick of chewing gum materialized in his palm, ready to deploy.
Gotoh shot him a glance. "No need to make a scene."
Roy drew his blade and pursued, eyes fixed ahead, not even glancing at Hisoka. He sliced through each magnetic spike with effortless precision, then propelled himself upward by pushing off the wall. His form transformed into that of a great bird, taking flight and moving through the air with supernatural grace. He reached a position above Moritonio, then unleashed a scorching technique.
"Sun Breathing, Seventh Form: Infernal Pyre!"
The cane sword blazed crimson, wreathed in intense flames. The circular slash transcended space itself, descending with lethal intent. Moritonio's pupils contracted. "Magnetic Field!"
Magnetic pressure erupted, attempting to ensnare Roy, to hold him suspended even for a single second—long enough for Moritonio to escape. But the old magician hadn't anticipated that Roy possessed more than sword techniques. He also wielded "flame magic." The magnetic field ignited with a sharp hiss before it could even touch Roy's skin, incinerated to nothingness.
Moritonio's eyes widened in disbelief. His body was still frozen in shock when fire seared through his chest. A single vertical slash—from shoulder to hip—split him cleanly in two.
"Splash... splash..."
Blood rained down. Moritonio crashed to the ground, bisected like his favorite "hamburger patty," blood and organs scattered between his severed halves.
"Wow," Hisoka covered his mouth, pocketing his "chewing gum."
Above the night sky, bathed in moonlight, Roy descended. Behind him hung a perfect circle moon. Within his eyes burned twin suns. His feet touched the earth as clear as wind. The cane sword's tip angled downward, stopping at Moritonio's throat.
"Cough... cough... my magnetism... the performance ends..." Blood poured from Moritonio's lips. His eyes dimmed with fading consciousness. "What a shame... the audience was so small. Just a few children."
Before he could finish, Roy's blade pierced through his throat.
"If you're going to die, do it quickly. Save your breath."
"I... you..." The blade twisted, shredding the villain's throat. His head lolled sideways. Before his eyes, a carousel of memories spun—
"Big brother..."