"Chapter 107: Clash × Pariston's Nen Ability"
It was him!
The sudden upheaval shattered all noise.
Clark's severed arm spun through the air, caught by the wind, then plunged into the sea and vanished beneath the waves.
Blood sprayed. Pariston and Goh froze as the slash grazed their shoulders, split the bulwark, and carved a straight gouge across the deck.
"Hey, my ship!" Captain Mark Seam jolted out of his chair from a sound sleep. Through the window, he saw a shocking furrow running from the bow to the side—worse than a lightning strike.
"Roy Zoldyck…" The blond youth came to himself; every trace of his smile was gone.
Goh tore a strip of cloth and bound Clark's shoulder, doing a quick field dressing. Clark clenched his teeth and stifled any sound, glared at Roy, then shut his aura nodes and raised Zetsu to start healing.
The boy walked forward unhurriedly, following the ravine the slash had opened. Every fight on deck seemed to stall at once. People lined the sides to clear his path.
Expressionless, neither sad nor glad, he stood quietly facing Pariston's trio.
Pariston pulled both hands from his pockets and asked evenly, "Why?"
"You know we've been avoiding you because we don't want to be your enemy. I trust you're smart enough to see that."
The irony of a man who loved hatred hating first made Pariston's chest feel tight, almost maddening. Nen coiled unconsciously around his hands.
Tap, tap… Roy stepped down from the bow, passing through Rika's line of sight, past the stunned dagger man, and stopped beside the freak.
A ripple stirred in the freak's empty eyes. He craned his neck and snorted. "I didn't ask you to help."
"Shut up. You can get yours later." Roy leveled the cane-sword straight at Pariston's throat. "All three of you at once. The little brother is outgunned and can't take three on one, so big brother will test your mettle for him."
What did that mean?
"He's your family?" Pariston glanced at the freak Roy shielded behind him and understood. He shed his aura, spread his hands, and put on a conciliatory smile. "A misunderstanding. All of it. If I'd known he was yours—"
"We wouldn't have laid a finger on him."
They had just caused trouble in the worst possible place.
The bleeding at Clark's shoulder stopped. As the truth dawned, a wave of blood surged in his chest, and he almost blacked out again.
"Another Zoldyck?!"
"You could have said so! I wouldn't have taken a swing!"
"Calm down. You're bleeding again…" Goh patted Clark and looked the Zoldyck brothers over with a cold eye.
Because Roy was now aboard, that pressure was swelling and swelling without end.
Roy kept the cane-sword raised, making no move to lower it. This was not about the Zoldycks, and not about civilians.
"If you choose to strike, be ready to be struck back."
Too late for talk now.
Magnetism: Pressure, Gravity Blade!
A hum—threads of air coiled around Pariston's, Goh's, and Clark's wrists and ankles.
All three felt their bodies sink hard, as if a boulder had slammed down on their heads. With a crack, their feet punched deep into the deck.
Then a white-hot slash scythed in—with a Nen spike and several coins right behind—aimed at vitals the instant they were pinned.
"I said, I didn't need your help!" Illumi blurred straight for Clark, stubborn as a mule.
Gotoh was a step faster.
The young butler pushed his glasses, brushed past Roy's shoulder at a run toward Goh, and loosed a shower of coins like bullets. "Forgive me, Young Master. I can't just stand and watch. Please understand."
One, two—"Always making my life harder." Roy's slash outpaced both spike and coins.
He strolled toward Pariston as if in a garden.
A few heavy thuds; panels ripped up, and a storm of splinters filled the air. They blocked the spike and the coins—but not the slash. It scraped Pariston's ear and shot off to sea, taking a lock of his blond hair with it.
Boom!
The sea's surface burst into a whirlpool.
Pariston's brow twitched. He could feel the edge still singing from the slash. He undid a button, shrugged out of his jacket, and stood in his white shirt. "Honestly, I don't like fighting. But if you won't listen…"
"Clark, Goh... Don't hold back. Kill!"
A future vice chairman of the Hunter Association did not lack for resolve.
When reason runs hot, put force on the high ground. Crush the enemy—make it hurt.
With the order given, Clark and Goh hardened their hearts. Zoldyck or no Zoldyck, they would kill first and talk later.
Nen flared. The two clashed with Gotoh and Illumi.
Clang, clang, clang.
The ring of steel wouldn't stop. Captain Mark Seam all but fainted from heartbreak, shouting over and over, "Careful—my ship. My ship…"
Sailors and candidates flooded the captain's room, huddling together, not one daring to play peacemaker.
Roy twirled the blade into a flourish. Aura sheathed the steel, spitting cold fire. He split a flying plank with one stroke, then set his foot into a mastered Dark Step and darted for Pariston.
"Sun Breathing, Seventh Form: Sunflower Thrust!"
Friction lit the blade's tip. With more than a hundred points of Physique behind it, the thrust screamed forward, in a blink at Pariston's heart.
The blond youth narrowed his eyes, raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers. "Come out, Board."
Black-and-white squares spread from him as the center in an instant. Several neighs rang out. Hiiiiii—
From the white squares leapt eight armored chargers with lance-bearing knights astride them, barring Roy's path.
"A chessboard and cavalry. Controlling the field. A game-theory style Nen ability. Fits you to a tee, Pariston." The eight lances thrust. Roy shifted mid-strike, turned the stab into a lift, then swept a Circular Slash.
Flame-wreathed swordlight flashed cold as it severed the lances—and the hands that gripped them. Hooves came crashing down next as the knights yanked their reins to trample Roy.
"Good lord… what am I even looking at?"
"Why is the blade on fire?"
"Why did my body get heavy?"
"And those armored horses—and those knights in mail—what are they?"
Swordlight crisscrossed the air. A stray arc split a window and ripped into the captain's room. Everyone but Mark Seam shuddered in unison and clung to each other.
So then—
"Is this the real Hunter Exam?"
Rika crouched in an empty corner, staring, her pretty pupils filled with the boy's silhouette as he carved a storm of swordlight from his cane-sword.