HxH: I Will Be Supreme

It began!

Six different auras broke through the darkness almost simultaneously.

Oboro focused on the weakest aura signature in front of him, the man standing next to Garu!

His instincts had identified the woman on the sofa as the most vulnerable target, but attacking the couple together presented complications. Faced with five opponents, he had to be decisive.

Starting with the strongest would be risky and leave too much room for error.

Priority one, reduce their numbers!

They must have prepared countermeasures before his arrival.

"Hmm?"

Oboro's attention sharpened.

Only two auras advanced.

The couple on the sofa remained passive.

Even though his eyes hadn't adjusted to the sudden darkness, his En gave clear 'signals' of their positions.

"Trying to escape?!"

Oboro lunged forward like a striking predator, taking aim at the mafia boss and his secretary.

After dealing with the weakest Nen user, securing Garu would be ideal!

As darkness fell, the auras of both men began to sink.

Their exact positions became blurred, but not enough to prevent pursuit.

A sinking sensation appeared, indicating underground movement.

The secretary, a hand on his boss's shoulder, activated his Hatsu. The ground beneath them rippled like water, their bodies already half-submerged as they prepared to evacuate.

Protecting the boss was their absolute mission.

Leave the battlefield to the others!

Escape with the boss. Complete the mission.

But before they could fully descend, the secretary felt a rush of air, followed by a blurred figure closing the distance.

"Such speed!" The man's skin crawled.

The darkness must have temporarily blinded their attacker. How could he track their movements and intentions so precisely?

He'd positioned himself and his boss preemptively.

"Stop him!"

The secretary yelled, spotting the hand reaching for him and raising his arm in defense.

A moment later, he screamed.

Oboro's fingers, fortified with Ko, sliced through the flesh like steel. The brief contact severed the secretary's arm, which fell to the ground with a wet thud.

But when Oboro planted his feet, the ground had returned to normal, leaving only a pool of blood where the boss and his secretary had disappeared.

Meanwhile, Oboros eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

"Some kind of phasing Hatsu?"

The thought barely registered before Oboro spun to block an incoming blow and retreated several steps. Through a gap in his defense, a serrated blade surrounded by a shadowy aura sliced past his leg, opening a wound several centimeters in diameter.

"Better reactions than I expected, minimal damage."

The successful attacker created distance as he addressed the middle-aged man.

"The boss is clear."

The middle-aged man acknowledged.

"Bert! Nasha! Why aren't you fighting?"

"I heard you, why are you yelling? Let me see what he's capable of first."

Oboro assessed his immediate threats, the middle-aged man in front of him and the knife-wielder who'd scored a hit, and smiled playfully.

Their coordination was impressive.

All of Oboro's previous fights had been one-on-one. This was his first fight against several skilled opponents, and their skills were considerable.

His leg muscles tensed in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but failed.

"Another Hatsu effect?"

Across the room, the middle-aged man and the knife-wielder moved in tandem, their positions crossing as they advanced from opposite angles.

Downstairs, on the first floor of the castle.

The one-armed secretary, his clothes drenched in crimson blood and his face ashen.

He'd followed Boss Garu into the entrance hall.

Guards lined the perimeter.

Kuga, the bespectacled man who'd been waiting, approached and draped a windbreaker over the boss's shoulders.

Garu remained calm, his cigar still burning. He looked at his injured subordinate with approval: "Well done!"

Then, as if nothing had happened

Someone opened the car door and Garu walked calmly inside.

Seeing the boss leaving, Kuga addressed the room: "Hold your positions. Nothing leaves until this is over!"

"Yes, sir!"

The mob replied in unison.

"Treat his wound."

Medical personnel approached the secretary, who had collapsed in a chair, blood loss taking its toll.

He stared toward the second floor stairs, still processing his brush with death.

Moments ago, he'd almost died.

The hall had become a battlefield.

Oboro faced two opponents. The middle-aged man pressed with continuous blows, while concealed blades attacked from multiple angles.

"The knife wielder is agile and fast, but physically weak. Classic assassin profile! The elder's melee is solid, but he's no Enhancer." Oboro's mind continued to process data.

"That guy!"

Sam, the Fells' security captain, felt the pressure mount as the fight progressed.

After a few minutes, sweat covered his face.

He realized that his attacks couldn't threaten Oboro at all.

Every move was neutralized effortlessly, many of his own counters could have proved fatal.

Only his partner's well-timed interventions and careful positioning forced Oboro to adapt, otherwise Sam would probably have fallen already.

Besides, their target remained wary of Bert and Nasha's possible involvement.

"Bastard!"

Sam cursed inwardly.

The plan had been for all four of them to attack Oboro at the same time, but now Bert and Nasha were just watching.

"Do you want to contribute?"

His peripheral vision caught the couple's suspicious behavior.

Sam's attacks intensified, his fist colliding with Oboro's. Pain shot through Sam's arm as he reeled back, Oboro pushing forward, his fingers aiming for Sam's eye socket.

As expected, the familiar blade appeared from behind.

This time, Oboro's enhanced physique allowed him to turn instantly, two fingers catching the incoming blade with perfect timing.

The eye attack was a feint; the knife-wielder was his real target.

This skill was becoming problematic.

Oboro noticed that the leg wound not only continued to bleed, but had actually grown.

The knife-wielder froze in surprise. Oboro had faced the attack directly after dodging it earlier.

The blade, held between only two fingers, might as well have been caught in a steel vise.

In his moment of shock, Oboros palm hit his chest.

The impact felt like being hit by a vehicle, blood spurting from the Nen user's mouth as he went airborne.

His body slammed into the armored door before sliding down.

He tried to rejoin the fight, but he couldn't stand.

"Good Nen defense."

Oboro smiled slightly.

Though not fatal, the man was ineffective in battle.

Behind him, Sam used the moment of his companion's fall to slip into Oboro's blind spot.

"An opening!"

When he saw that Oboro hadn't turned around, Sam's eyes lit up.

His fist, bone protruding from the knuckle, aimed for Oboro's skull.

Bang!

Before contact, an explosive pain in his abdomen knocked him over.

Oboro, still facing away, had driven an elbow back as if he had eyes in the back of his head.

"Guh!"

Sam's bloodshot eyes widened as bile mixed with saliva sprayed from his mouth.

As Sam lost physical control, Oboro spun and delivered a whip kick to his stomach, then moved to finish him off.

But a lead-like metal weight suddenly materialized on Oboro's raised thigh, tightening like a shackle.

His movements slowed.

"A conjurer."

Oboro observed calmly.

Sam had brushed his thigh during their exchange.

"Stored it as a surprise tactic."

The weight was considerable, but manageable, even if it limited his mobility.

This construct was probably indestructible by normal means.

Sam rolled away, destroying furniture as he retreated.

"Bert! Whatever you're planning, if we don't act now, we're all going to die here!" Sam roared. The couple's suspicious behavior was now obvious.

Within minutes, both he and his partner had reached their limits.

"Pah!"

Bert rose from the sofa, playfulness gone as he spat at Sam, "Useless! I was going to use it to eliminate you, never mind, you're dead anyway."

He prepared to attack but hesitated.

Oboro's strength was so much beyond expectations that even Bert doubted that he could win alone if they lost more fighters.

He understood Oboros abilities better than Sam.

For Bert was an Enhancer.

A Conjurer who could match the fighting skills of an Enhancer!

That defied common sense.

While conjuration could help in battle, it could rarely match the raw power of Enhancement.

Although Bert usually projected a carefree facade, he wasn't stupid.

This Oboro was a rare master!

His fists clenched as his expression hardened.

"He's the strongest of the four," Oboro studied Bert through narrowed eyes.

He noticed that the knife-wielder was standing slowly, using the door for support; though not threatening, he couldn't be completely ignored.

"Fighting multiple opponents requires more data to be processed faster. Rhythm and intensity are more difficult to control. It's not easy to clear the field quickly through pure Nen and physical combat. They maximize their abilities through environmental cooperation. As an Enhancer, this would be easier," Oboro analyzed.

Oboro sighed, "Indeed, growth is endless!"

He raised his hand and activated his Hatsu.

Endless Dreamer's Archive!

A face-like emblem materialized in the air.

"Activate!"

"Access domain, initiate!"

"Players, prepare to initialize!"

The emblem emitted strange sounds.

The process was much smoother than a year ago, no longer stuttering.

These four weren't amateurs, all of them had considerable strength.

The coordination of the middle-aged man and the knife-wielder showed extensive combat experience.

To end this immediately without Hatsu would be difficult and wasteful.

Oboro had initially withheld his ability to experience team combat in order to gather battle data and understand their abilities.

A valuable opportunity to improve his tactical processing.

Now, enough data had been gathered.

If he had to judge, they hadn't presented any real "surprises".

"A minute should be enough."

Oboros soft words reached his opponents.