Forcibly opening the aura nodes of that burly thug, then killing him right after… just to test whether it would trigger a sudden level-up.
That was exactly why Moro had deliberately left one alive.
He had never tried forcing someone's nodes open before, and he probably couldn't do it with a calm, peaceful state of mind anyway.
Which meant the process would be laced with a sliver of malice, forcing the thug to endure both mental and physical agony as his nodes were violently torn open.
But did Moro care about the guy's human rights?
Not even a little.
He stuffed a towel into the thug's mouth, then reached out and channeled his Nen, pouring it straight into the man's body.
In an instant, that wild, explosive Nen rampaged through the thug like a raging oni.
While it brutally blasted his aura nodes wide open, it also delivered excruciating pain.
"Mmmph…!"
The thug's face twisted into a grotesque mask, his body arching and writhing like a shrimp on a hot plate.
Moro watched without a flicker of emotion. The moment the man's aura flared to its absolute maximum, he reached out and snapped his neck with a casual twist.
Silence fell over the room.
Moro stood up and immediately checked the back of his hand for the level display.
He didn't even need to look.
The second he killed the thug, his own aura volume didn't budge an inch.
"As expected… no good."
His level hadn't risen at all. Moro let out a soft sigh, but he wasn't particularly disappointed.
If something this easy actually worked, the system probably wouldn't give him any feedback in the first place.
It was nothing more than a perfectly realistic outcome.
Moro lowered his hand, eyes narrowing in thought.
Killing someone right after forcibly awakening their Nen didn't satisfy the upgrade condition.
In other words, the target had to already possess "roughly equivalent cultivation" as a Nen user?
Or maybe they needed to have already developed their own Nen ability?
If that was the case…
Would killing a truly powerful Nen user grant a massive jump in levels all at once?
Of course, the stronger he got, the harsher the requirements would probably become.
"When the time's right, I'll head to Heaven's Arena."
Moro gathered his thoughts and glanced at the two corpses in the room.
He had expected dealing in Shinra would attract some hungry wolves.
But he hadn't thought they'd come sniffing this fast, and so brazenly.
Now that he thought about it…
In his previous life, the reason he'd managed to snatch such a big slice of the pie in Yorknew City so quickly was largely thanks to Morena's backing.
This time he was a lone wolf strolling into the city, so to certain hyenas, he looked like easy meat.
Moro holstered his gun, then manually snapped the limbs of both corpses, twisting them into a truly gruesome tableau.
After that, he dialed a number and paid for two "cleaners" to come take out the trash.
Just another charming feature of Yorknew City.
As long as you could pay, someone would come dispose of the bodies for you.
Once the money was transferred, Moro grabbed Shinra and left the room, letting the cleaners handle the rest.
It was obvious that once they hauled the corpses away, word would spread.
And the horrific state of the bodies would quietly add to his reputation as someone not to mess with.
Exactly what Moro wanted, at least enough to scare off the small fry and save him some headaches.
Still, those two meatheads barging straight in had only made him more eager to offload Shinra quickly.
After all, we're talking about a profit margin of over ten billion jenny…
More than enough to blind a swarm of idiots who overestimated themselves.
Moro didn't want to waste every night dealing with trash like that. It would cut into his precious training time.
Night fell.
Yorknew City's dazzling face glittered above ground.
Skyscrapers towered like dragons of light, streets flowing with rivers of headlights.
Moro avoided the neon glow, slipping into the shadows, weaving through the maze-like back alleys.
The gangs here were different from the usual underworld. Whether it was outright crime or the countless gray industries, everything was done in the open.
They wore tailored suits and didn't flinch under the spotlight.
This city belonged to the mafia, through and through.
But some people still preferred to do business in the dark.
Moro obviously wasn't going to walk Shinra into any of the major auction houses. Instead, he found a broker who specialized in underground deals.
"1.25 billion, no problem… I can find you a buyer and guarantee no complications, but I take fifteen percent."
Deep underground, the pipe-smoking broker laid out his terms, lightly tapping the pipe against the table, eyes locked on Moro's reaction the entire time.
Shinra was tied to a rather prominent wealthy collector.
About a month ago, that collector had been found dead in his home, along with every single one of his top-tier bodyguards.
Not a single valuable item from his collection remained.
A classic home-invasion robbery-murder.
And Shinra, the famous sword, had been one of those pieces.
Yet somehow, it had resurfaced in Yorknew City recently.
Even more bizarre: the seller was some no-name petty thief, and the buyer was an out-of-town kid.
Even after personally confirming the story, the broker still found it absurd.
But none of that mattered. When business walked through the door, he was going to take a bite.
Moro didn't even blink. "Deal. But I have one condition."
"Oh?"
The broker raised an eyebrow, surprised at how quickly the kid agreed. "Let's hear it."
"Front me 800 million right now."
Moro stared straight into the man's eyes.
The broker chuckled, thinking the kid was dreaming.
Then the chuckle died in his throat.
Moro continued calmly, "Under that condition, no matter what price you negotiate, I only want 200 million as the final payment."
"…"
The broker's smile vanished, his expression turning solemn. Meeting Moro's steady, unshaken gaze, he spoke slowly.
"Trading 20 million for a low-risk billion… you're the one coming out way ahead here, kid."
"Your information network's pretty impressive."
When the broker mentioned the twenty million, Moro didn't bat an eye. "So, what's your answer?"
"I'm a businessman. Why would I turn down extra profit?"
The broker narrowed his eyes.
If he hadn't already sensed that Moro was far more dangerous than he looked, he never would have agreed to terms this lopsided.
As a middleman, he had plenty of room to maneuver between buyer and seller.
But this worked even better. He was confident he could push the final price much higher, and every extra jenny above the deal would be pure profit in his pocket.
The transaction wrapped up quickly.
Moro walked out with 800 million in hand. As for that remaining 200 million "final payment"?
He never intended to collect it.
A broker who'd survived countless shady deals could read that intention clear as day, which was exactly why he'd agreed so readily.
"By the way, if you don't mind me asking… where do you get your info?" Moro asked on his way out, genuinely curious.
The broker grinned and handed over a business card. "Word is, once you get a Hunter License, you can buy any information you want on the Hunter website. We don't have licenses, of course… but we've got our own channels that aren't half bad."
"Thanks."
Moro pocketed the card and left.
The broker didn't watch him go. Instead, he lovingly stroked Shinra, greed gleaming in his eyes.
This deal would net him at least 600 million.
As for the risk of handling stolen goods…?
If he couldn't handle that much, he wouldn't have taken the job in the first place.
One week later.
The broker and his crew met the client who'd agreed to pay 1.5 billion for Shinra.
The buyer was a man whose face was half-covered in burn scars. Several briefcases had already been placed on the table before they arrived.
The broker glanced at the cases and naturally assumed they were stuffed with cash.
He raised a hand. One of his men stepped forward and passed Shinra to the scarred man.
The man accepted the sword, then frowned.
The Nen on the blade…
…was gone.
Across the table, the broker opened a briefcase.
Empty.
"Hm?"
In that split second, the broker's face changed. He drew his gun without hesitation.
Shlk—
A blade suddenly punched through his chest.
"Urk…"
The broker's body jerked. Eyes wide, he stared at the blood-soaked sword protruding from his chest, then painfully turned to see where it had come from.
What he saw made no sense.
From the shadow behind him…
…a figure wrapped in a headscarf and face mask emerged, only the upper half of their body rising from the darkness, as if the lower half had fused completely with the shadow itself.
The blood-drenched katana was gripped tightly in that figure's hand.
That outfit…
A fleeting realization flashed through the broker's mind.
Then darkness swallowed him whole.