HunterxHunter: I Became Stronger After Death

Fragile, sensitive.

These were the emotions Moro saw in Kurapika just before he lowered his head.

Although he sympathized with Kurapika's tragic past, there was no way he would directly reveal information about Nen to him.

It was far too dangerous.

Even without using Gyo to closely examine the faint traces of aura around Kurapika, Moro could easily sense his unstable mental state.

He was like a tightly wound string—ready to snap at any moment.

It was common knowledge that the Kurta Clan's Scarlet Eyes activated when they were emotionally agitated.

And frequent activation of this bloodline ability would inevitably put immense strain on the mind.

Without Nen, the mental burden might not be overwhelming, but over time, even small accumulations could become a huge problem.

Kurapika had already suffered unimaginable psychological trauma from the massacre of his clan.

Simply witnessing the remains of his people alone was enough to plunge him into an endless mental battle—a war within himself that could last a lifetime.

The power of the Scarlet Eyes would one day become Kurapika's greatest weapon against the Phantom Troupe.

But right now?

The Scarlet Eyes were nothing more than a chain shackling his mind, increasing his pain rather than his strength.

Yet despite everything, this sole survivor of the Kurta Clan had managed to preserve his humanity.

Even with unquenchable hatred burning inside him, Kurapika had somehow retained his kindness.

That kindness was both his greatest strength and his biggest weakness.

Moro had no intention of interfering with Kurapika's path.

Everyone must walk their own road—only by experiencing life firsthand can a person truly understand how to move forward.

But these weren't the reasons Moro refused to teach him about Nen.

The real problem was Kurapika's current mental state—if he encountered Nen too soon, it could destroy him rather than empower him.

Besides, Moro had no time to waste right now.

And given his current situation, if Kurapika got too involved with him, it would only bring more trouble.

The time isn't right yet.

Moro was a pragmatic person—he carefully considered every possibility before making a move.

That was how he survived in this dangerous world.

"Are you here for the Scarlet Eyes?"

Moro's voice was calm, but his question struck a nerve.

Kurapika froze.

How does he know?!

A deep shock flashed in his eyes, but he held his tongue.

Instead, his hand instinctively reached for his wooden swords.

Though he was fearful of Moro's overwhelming strength, he still braced himself for a fight.

Moro, however, remained unfazed.

"Your reaction confirms it—you're the last survivor of the Kurta Clan."

!!!

At that moment, Kurapika's head snapped up.

His eyes blazed into a searing red, casting a fiery glow in the dim alleyway.

The burning crimson of his irises radiated like a caged inferno, a symbol of his rage and sorrow.

The Scarlet Eyes had shattered the last remnants of his restraint, his reason, and his fear.

SWOOSH!

With no hesitation, he swung his wooden sword toward Moro—

A single, furious slash, carrying the full force of his rage.

Yet—

Moro simply raised a single finger…

And caught the blade with ease.

Kurapika's eyes widened in shock.

He tried to pull away, pouring all his strength into retrieving his weapon—

Nothing.

The sword wouldn't budge—as if it had been welded into place.

There must be some kind of ability at work…

Something beyond my comprehension…

Kurapika's mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation.

How can one man possess such terrifying strength?!

"If you're so desperate to hide your Kurta heritage… why wear their clothing so openly?"

Moro's voice was calm but carried undeniable weight.

Then—

He pushed forward, sending a surge of force through the wooden blade.

BAM!

Kurapika was blasted backward, crashing into the alley wall.

"…What?"

Stunned, Kurapika looked down at his own blue-and-white robes, adorned with the traditional markings of the Kurta Clan.

So that's it…

Realization dawned on him.

Because of the news reports, the outside world had become familiar with the Kurta Clan's distinct appearance.

And through those circulating images, many had recognized their clothing.

That's why Moro had tested him with that question.

It made perfect sense.

If this man had truly intended to harm him, he never would've had the chance to fight back.

"But… just hearing the words 'Scarlet Eyes' was enough to… make me lose control?"

Kurapika's eyes dimmed, his frustration turning inward.

He hated himself for losing control so easily.

How could he possibly face his enemies if his emotions ruled him so easily?

"Take off your coat."

Kurapika snapped out of his thoughts.

He blinked in confusion, looking at Moro.

Under the man's unwavering gaze, Kurapika hesitated but ultimately obeyed.

Silently, he removed his Kurta-style overcoat and handed it to Moro.

In return, Moro shrugged off his black suit jacket and tossed it to Kurapika.

Moro's Warning

Honestly, Moro couldn't understand why Kurapika had been reckless enough to wear such distinctive clothing in the first place.

The Scarlet Eyes were one of the most valuable commodities in the underworld.

Even the smallest rumor could draw in hungry predators looking to make a fortune.

Especially in Yorknew City…

This place was filled with monsters in human skin—merciless criminals who lived on the edge of life and death.

If any of them caught wind of a living Kurta, they wouldn't hesitate.

They wouldn't care about right or wrong.

They wouldn't second-guess their actions.

They would kill first.

"You might not understand this city yet, but trust me—this place is crawling with bloodthirsty beasts."

Moro ripped Kurapika's overcoat into shreds, crushing it into a ball before tossing it aside.

"If you want to survive, hide your identity."

"Don't wear anything that could expose you."

"Get a pair of colored contacts."

"That's my only advice. Take it or leave it."

Moro turned to leave.

Kurapika, still stunned, suddenly blurted out—

"Why…? Why are you helping me?"

Moro paused.

But he didn't turn back.

Why?

Perhaps he was simply planting a seed of goodwill—hoping that, one day, it would bear fruit.

"There's a VIP auction ticket in the jacket."

That was his only response.

Then, he disappeared into the night.

Kurapika froze, then quickly reached into the pocket of his new jacket.

Inside, he found an admission ticket—worth 12 million jenny.

His hands trembled as he clutched the ticket.

I… I didn't even ask for his name.

By the time he looked up—

Moro was gone.

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