[133]: How Far Can You Go?

"Wheel of Law."

Invisible to ordinary people, an aura surged from the boy's body, forming a deep blue spinning wheel beside him.

Four tarot cards flew out at once—

A fifth one waited for his choice.

[Reversed Ace of Pentacles]

[Reversed Ace of Swords]

[Reversed Three of Cups]

[Upright Death]

And the one card he could freely choose—

"Upright Wheel of Fortune."

Cyr reached out and caught the final card.

"You say I'm lucky?" He chuckled, his gaze locking onto his opponent.

"Then let me show you… what real luck looks like."

"You made it this far—

You worked hard, didn't you? Gave everything you had just to win."

The white-haired boy's smile held an unclear meaning.

"Of course! Unlike you, I had to pay a price beyond your imagination to get here!"

His opponent spoke with pride—confident, even arrogant.

Because to him, his efforts were something to be proud of.

"…I see."

Cyr murmured, almost to himself.

Then, without hesitation,

He gripped his shirt—and tore it apart.

His right hand moved to his left chest,

Black-tipped fingers sank into his own flesh—

And the next moment—

He ripped out his own beating, blood-red heart.

A single breath later—

The heart fell from his fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud.

The gaping hole in his chest remained open,

Exposing bone, muscle, and raw flesh beneath.

Yet—

He just stood there.

His lips curled wider.

And wider.

His grin stretched into something twisted, something deranged—

"What about you?"

His voice was light, amused, but his eyes—burned with madness.

"Go on. Show me."

"Hahahahahaha—!"

His wild laughter echoed through the arena.

And in return—

The entire crowd fell silent.

Gon and Killua, watching from the audience, were speechless.

…He ripped out his own heart.

Was he trying to kill himself?!

Killua had taken plenty of hearts before—

But never had he seen someone tear out their own.

"…That guy's a lunatic."

His voice was low, wary.

A complete psychopath.

Even worse than Hisoka.

"We need to stay away from him, Gon."

But Gon…

He didn't respond.

His eyes stayed glued to the stage, to the boy standing on it.

—His opponent, Leiror, was just as stunned.

His pupils dilated, his breath hitched—

And without realizing it, he stepped back.

Madman.

Madman.

MADMAN!

The commentator—who had nearly forgotten their job—

Finally spoke, voice rising in panic.

"W-Wait! Wait a second—?!"

"What just happened?! Why did Cyr suddenly tear out his own heart?!"

In all their years in Heaven Arena,

They had never seen anything like this.

Their own heart nearly stopped from the shock.

"Hmm?"

Cyr's wild grin faded into a look of mild amusement.

He tilted his head, eyes locking onto Leiror's retreating form.

"…What's wrong?"

"You can't do it?"

The white-haired boy lifted his gaze,

His voice dripping with dark curiosity.

"Then how about this?"

—He suddenly raised his foot.

Leiror—

The audience—

Even the referee—

All realized what he was about to do.

And none of them could stop it.

All they could do was watch, helplessly—

As the boy casually stomped down—

Crushing his own heart beneath his foot.

Blood splattered.

It painted the floor, mingling with the steady stream still leaking from his open chest—

Dyeing the stage in red.

"Idiot."

He lifted his gaze to his opponent, tone bored, dismissive.

"No matter how much you talk—

In the end, you're just a brainless coward."

His lips curved into a mocking smirk.

He could taste the iron of his own blood rising in his throat—

But he swallowed it back down.

…Can a person survive without a heart?

Of course not.

But would they die instantly?

Not necessarily.

Maybe they'd have seconds left.

Maybe even minutes.

—The only thing certain was,

He wasn't dead yet.

"You maniac!" Leiror snarled.

"You've already lost! I'm not going to kill you."

His eyes stayed locked on Cyr's bleeding figure—

Expression unreadable.

The white-haired, blue-eyed boy stood there, his body covered in strange markings, half-drenched in blood, with a gaping hole in his chest.

At a glance, he didn't look like the kind of madman who would rip out his own heart, crush it underfoot,

Just to mock his opponent for being a coward.

But Leiror didn't care about the insult.

All he knew was—he had already won.

His opponent had done all that just to taunt him.

Sure, it had scared him. But so what?

In the end—

The boy would die from losing his heart.

Leiror didn't even need to lift a finger to win.

At least, that's what he thought—

—Until his vision spun.

With a dull thud,

His severed head hit the floor—

And from the corner of his eye,

He saw the blood spraying from his own neck.

"Did you actually think a fool like you could win?"

A boot pressed down on his fallen head.

The white-haired, blue-eyed boy leaned down,

His gaze towering over him, his smile mocking.

—[Current Sukuna Compatibility: 70%]—

—[Reversed Cursed Technique: Activated]—

The system notification came right on time.

Just like Cyr had expected.

Sukuna had once ripped out Yuji Itadori's heart,

Yet Yuji still survived.

In theory, if Cyr unlocked Reversed Cursed Technique, he should be able to do the same.

Of course—

It was a gamble.

So first, he had used his Nen ability—

"Upright Wheel of Fortune" ensured he would be lucky.

There was a high chance things would go his way,

That he would gain the technique and heal.

But there was also a decent chance he wouldn't—

That he would die before he could be saved.

—But the result was right in front of him.

He had succeeded.

"You weren't wrong."

The white-haired boy placed a hand over his chest.

"I really am lucky."

Before their eyes, the hole in his chest—

Closed up.

The flesh and bone knitted together at a visible speed,

Until not even a scar was left behind.

Aside from the shattered heart and pools of blood on the floor,

There was no sign he had ever been injured.

Sure, he got stabbed to death at a convention—

But he hadn't completely died,

And the system bound him in time.

Sure, he fell into Meteor City,

But thanks to his skills, he at least had some way to defend himself.

Sure, his abilities came with tons of debuffs,

But their advantages were undeniable.

They made him stronger than an average person right from the start—

Letting him survive and grow stronger at an unnatural pace.

"…And you?"

"You're just unlucky."

Unlucky that he had met Cyr,

Unlucky that he had run his mouth,

Unlucky that his life ended here.

With no more interest,

Cyr casually pulled out a new shirt, changed,

And walked off the stage.

"—Cyr wins!!!"

The referee and announcer only snapped back to reality once he had left.

They shouted the results—

But in the back of their minds, they couldn't help but wonder—

…What the hell was this match?!

Cyr had:

Ripped out his own heart.

Crushed it.

Taunted his opponent.

Let the other guy believe he had won.

And then, just as the guy started his victory speech…

Beheaded him on the spot.

—He could've won instantly.

—Yet he chose to mess with himself first.

…Was this just the fun of being strong?

But one thing was certain—

This match had hype.

A grotesque, bizarre, and unbelievably theatrical performance.

It felt less like a fight—

And more like an insane magic show.

—The last person to put on such a spectacle was…

Hisoka.

He once casually ripped off Chrollo's lackey's arms in a match,

As if it were just another trick.

…What the hell was wrong with people like this?

But none of that mattered to the audience.

The crowd erupted—

Cheering wildly for the victor.

°°°

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