HunterxHunter: I Became Stronger After Death

The Gazelle Step—

Moro, of course, didn't know the name of this footwork.

In truth, he had "stolen" it from the long-ponytail woman during their match.

However, it wasn't as if Moro had intentionally sought to learn it.

Among the eighteen matches he had fought thus far, the long-ponytail woman was the only opponent who had demonstrated any sort of advanced footwork.

Thus, strictly speaking, this was the only technique Moro could observe and learn from during the competition.

The Gazelle Step relies on toe-tip propulsion for swift and nimble movement, with sudden changes in direction achieved by using the heel to pivot, much like the leaping motion of a gazelle.

Mastering the mechanics of this movement wasn't particularly difficult; the challenge lay in generating explosive power during transitions between stillness and motion.

This difficulty, however, was easily overcome with the support of Nen.

It was precisely because of this that Moro, despite having learned the step only recently, could already perform it more effectively than its originator.

"Such blind confidence."

Retreating to the center of the ring, Moro brushed his slightly swollen cheek with his fingers, his calm gaze fixed on Tagore, who stood near the edge of the ring.

After several exchanges, Moro had discerned the essence of Tagore's Nen ability.

It was a combat-oriented skill that imbued Nen with a property akin to impact force, enhancing the penetrating power of his attacks beyond the normal limits of "Ten" and "Zetsu."

Given that Transmutation-type users aren't particularly adept at projecting Nen externally, Tagore's ability was best utilized in close-quarters combat.

Most notably, both his fists and elbows could serve as focal points for this ability. Moro suspected that other parts of Tagore's body might also be used as attack mediums.

This was a purely offensive ability, one that aligned perfectly with Tagore's combat style and preferences.

What struck Moro as excessive, however, was Tagore's choice to immediately reveal his Nen ability at the start of their match.

It was widely understood that most Nen abilities, to varying extents, had the potential for an "element of surprise" when first encountered.

Moro's Fraudulent Shooting Star was an example of such an ability. Tagore's impact-based Transmutation ability was another.

If Moro had been in Tagore's place…

He would have used conventional punches at the start of the match to probe his opponent's defenses, waiting for an opening to unleash a decisive blow.

The surprise factor of such an ability could easily end a fight in a single strike.

Tagore's decision to showcase his power immediately, Moro mused, was a waste of its tactical potential—an act of overconfidence bordering on arrogance.

Then again, on a public stage like Heaven's Arena, where fighters seek both victory and recognition, it wasn't surprising that many chose not to hold back their abilities.

But Moro's situation was different. Bound by the constant threat of incoming enemies, he had no intention of recklessly exposing his Nen abilities unless absolutely necessary.

Tagore, you should consider yourself lucky.

Moro thought to himself.

Were it not for his caution, Moro could have devised a counter-strategy to exploit Tagore's overconfidence, turning it into his downfall.

But there was no point in dwelling on hypotheticals.

Moro's calm gaze remained locked on Tagore as he advanced, his mind already formulating a plan to refine his footwork using this opponent as a training opportunity.

Unaware of Moro's internal musings, Tagore, driven by an overwhelming desire to attack, charged forward with relentless aggression.

With each step, his fists created piercing sounds as they sliced through the air, leaving shadows of impending doom around Moro.

Moro's focus reached its peak as he evaded the rapid strikes, continually retreating under the pressure of Tagore's assault.

In mere moments, Tagore had unleashed over a hundred punches.

Though Moro prioritized defense and used his footwork to dissipate the force of incoming blows, a few still managed to land.

Fortunately, the defensive Nen surrounding his body and the agility of his movements mitigated the impact, allowing him to remain in good condition.

One minute, two minutes…

As the fight dragged on, Tagore's relentless barrage continued, with Moro deftly evading or deflecting the majority of attacks.

"Got it."

Amid the high-intensity exchanges, Moro began to adapt to Tagore's attack patterns. His footwork became increasingly fluid, his movements more intuitive. The danger he had faced at the beginning of the match gradually faded.

No matter how Tagore adjusted the trajectory of his extended Nen-infused strikes, he could no longer land a meaningful hit on Moro.

Frustration crept into Tagore's expression, replacing the smug arrogance he had displayed earlier.

"Stop dodging, you damn rat!"

Irritated, Tagore's attack speed increased—but so did his sloppiness.

Moro ignored Tagore's taunts.

He found it difficult to articulate what he was feeling in this moment.

Every time he sidestepped a punch, every time he saw the extended Nen miss its mark, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

It was akin to the thrill of drifting a car along the very edge of a curve.

Perhaps it was the sense of accomplishment, or maybe just pure enjoyment.

Whatever it was, Moro relished the experience.

Amid the storm of attacks, he found himself with enough mental clarity to observe and analyze. It was as if he had gained a second set of eyes, viewing the fight from an outsider's perspective.

The dust stirred by their movements, the shifting flows of Tagore's agitated Nen—Moro noticed it all.

He's getting desperate.

Moro thought, reading Tagore's rising frustration and anger through the movements of his Nen.

The Audience

The spectators roared with excitement, especially Tagore's supporters, who were convinced that he was dominating the match.

Among them, only the Nen users in the crowd could see the truth.

"Moro…"

A voice murmured his name in the stands.

Many of the fighters who had climbed to the 200th floor of Heaven's Arena were present, drawn by Moro's growing reputation.

"He's… getting stronger—he's improving rapidly in the middle of the fight!"

One of the 200th-floor fighters stared at Moro in disbelief.

To witness someone visibly grow stronger in the span of a single match was utterly shocking.

This sentiment was shared by many of the skilled fighters watching.

They saw how Moro's footwork evolved from tentative to masterful and how his defensive responses became increasingly precise.

For the first time, these onlookers glimpsed a side of Moro beyond his calm and contemplative demeanor—a terrifying side capable of rapid adaptation and growth.

"Tagore's done for," remarked a fighter who had already secured nine victories on the 200th floor. Rising from his seat, he left the arena.

"When a sword loses its sharp edge and punches can no longer harm…"

"…defeat is inevitable."

On the Arena

As if affirming this prediction, the tide of the match shifted dramatically.

Tagore's aggression faltered, and Moro, conserving his strength, seized a single opportunity.

One decisive strike sent Tagore sprawling to the ground, motionless.

The audience fell silent, their cheers abruptly cut off.

A moment ago, Tagore had seemed to dominate.

How had Moro ended it so suddenly with a single blow?

In a corner of the stands, a handsome man who had been closely observing Moro rose to his feet.

"There's something… something beyond my understanding at work here," he muttered, his eyes gleaming with a hungry curiosity as he stared at the figure standing victorious on the stage.

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