HunterxHunter: I Became Stronger After Death

Hisoka turned his head toward the tall figure who had just spoken.

Long black hair,

Pale almost ghostly skin,

And pitch-black eyes, devoid of emotion—

as if wearing a mask of lifelessness.

"Hmm~"

Upon recognizing the visitor,

Hisoka remained unfazed.

"How heartbreaking~ Just the other day, you were asking where I was.

I thought you wanted to catch up."

"Relax,

I wouldn't do something so pointless."

The visitor—

was Illumi Zoldyck.

Kortopi had taken the contract to track down Moro,

while the assassination contract for Hisoka—

had fallen to Illumi.

"Calling to ask your location…"

Illumi casually twirled his phone in his hand before slipping it back into his pocket.

"…was just to save time looking for you."

He then reached into his sleeve

and smoothly pulled out a beaded nen-needle,

holding it delicately between his long fingers.

A wave of nen emerged from his body,

gradually building in intensity—

an unmistakable killing intent woven into it.

He wasn't joking.

Yet, despite Illumi's clear intent to kill,

Hisoka remained unbothered—

his expression one of boredom,

like a monk in Zen meditation.

"Illumi,

how much would it take to make you drop the job?"

"Not happening.

I have a responsibility to my client."

Illumi's face remained blank,

his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Hisoka half-lowered his eyelids,

leaned against the wall,

and spoke seriously—

"I'll pay more."

"Alright, deal."

Without hesitation,

Illumi withdrew his killing intent and tucked the needle back into his sleeve.

Compared to his strict father and principled grandfather,

Illumi had no strong sense of professional ethics.

As long as he was paid,

he could choose whether or not to carry out a job.

Rules like "avoiding innocent casualties"—

the kind his father and grandfather strictly followed—

meant nothing to him.

That's just how Manipulation-type nen users were.

After a brief pause,

Illumi turned to glance at Hisoka,

as if realizing something.

"Wait…

but do you even have money?"

Illumi tilted his head slightly.

"I remember you spent everything a while ago,

all to track someone down."

"Oh?"

Hisoka opened his eyes slightly,

letting out a soft chuckle.

A long silence followed.

The two stared at each other without a word.

Then, finally—

Hisoka casually asked—

"Can I pay later?"

"…"

Illumi silently pulled his nen-needle back out.

Silent Tracking

The falling paper scraps were small and unnoticeable,

but for Kortopi,

they served as a beacon.

As long as he met the activation conditions,

his ability allowed him to pinpoint his target's exact location—

even if he had never met them before.

That's why he wasn't worried about losing Moro.

From afternoon until nightfall,

he trailed his target from afar,

until the city lights flickered on.

He followed Moro into a dimly lit alley.

The ground was covered in filthy, stagnant water.

Discarded junk piled up against the walls.

Above, a tangle of electrical wires dangled loosely.

The stench was awful,

and the murky water threatened to soak his white socks.

Kortopi frowned slightly—

but he did not hesitate.

"Was I noticed…?"

His wooden sandals splashed through the filthy puddles

as he narrowed his sharp violet eyes,

peering into the dark passage ahead.

He had kept a safe distance,

ensuring he wouldn't be discovered.

Yet—

Moro had suddenly diverted into this alley…

"Coincidence? Or did he notice me?"

Kortopi couldn't be sure.

If he could eavesdrop on Moro's thoughts,

he wouldn't have to guess like this.

"My ability isn't mature enough yet…"

Kortopi sighed internally.

"Forget it. First, I should deal with the presence behind me…"

He stopped in a slightly wider section of the alley,

then turned around to face the entrance.

A single old light bulb flickered overhead,

casting a dim, uneven glow on his doll-like face.

At the alley entrance,

a shadow appeared,

partially blocking the light.

The Dark Alleyway

Plop.

Footsteps splashed through the grimy water,

sending tiny droplets into the air.

Moro let the filthy water soak his pants,

walking calmly through the silent, dark passage.

The soot-covered walls on either side were lined with dimly glowing bulbs,

barely illuminating this forgotten part of the city.

In the shadowed corners,

beside garbage bins,

haggard addicts lurked.

They turned at the sound of approaching footsteps,

eyes sunken, filled with greed and malice

as they locked onto Moro's fine clothing.

Yet—

as he drew closer,

a bone-chilling aura washed over them.

Their greed and malice immediately vanished,

replaced by fear.

Heads lowered,

shoulders hunched,

they shrunk away,

allowing Moro to pass through their filthy world unchallenged.

At a crossroads deep in the alley,

Moro finally stopped,

his back facing the path he came from.

Then, in a calm voice,

he spoke—

"This spot will do. What do you think?"

Silence.

Then,

soft footsteps echoed from behind.

From the shadows,

a thin man emerged.

He glared darkly at Moro's back and asked—

"When did you notice me?"

Moro turned wordlessly,

his gaze scanning the newcomer.

Tall and gaunt.

Eyes sharp and ruthless.

A missing chunk from both his nose and lips.

"About Level 18…"

Sensing the nen aura radiating from the man,

Moro quickly estimated his strength—

and was disappointed.

"Enhancement-type.

A complete amateur."

His sharp eyes flicked toward the man's left hand,

where nen was instinctively gathering.

"A Conjurer… but a weak one."

Then, recognition clicked—

"I saw this guy in the auction market."

A competitor.

Like Moro, this man searched for rare artifacts,

but instead of absorbing nen,

he resold them for profit.

Most antiques retained value even without nen,

but some master forgers unknowingly infused their fakes with nen,

creating counterfeits with real aura.

By simply detecting nen,

even someone ignorant of antiques could make money.

"So that's why he's here."

"He thinks I'm cutting into his business."

A typical, greedy reaction.

Moro sighed.

One—

He had hoped the enemy was from the Menu Organization.

Unfortunately, no.

Two—

This guy was too weak to provide any real combat experience.

The thin man had no idea what Moro was thinking.

But seeing Moro's unconcealed disappointment,

his frown deepened,

and his killing intent intensified.

For 20 advanced chapters: https://www.patreon.com/c/Ely225