Chapter 145

Zeno let out a sigh, his voice tinged with emotion. "It seems I've truly grown old."

"By the way, young man," he continued, his tone more serious now. "May I have the honor of knowing your name?"

"Morin," came the calm reply.

At the same time, the overwhelming aura that Morin had released began to withdraw, condensing around him.

What was once a tempestuous presence was now a dense, concentrated energy surrounding his body—a powerful shield of aura so thick it seemed almost tangible, like an impenetrable suit of armor.

"Morin, is it? I'll remember that."

Zeno nodded solemnly, committing the name to memory.

"To achieve this level of aura… It's something that usually requires decades, if not close to a century, of grueling effort."

Curiosity gleamed in his eyes as he asked, "Given your age, how exactly did you cultivate such immense aura?"

Even Zeno, with all his experience, couldn't help but inquire. The sheer magnitude of Morin's aura rivaled—or perhaps even surpassed—his own.

Hearing the question, Machi instinctively perked up.

She too wanted to know the secret behind Morin's extraordinary growth.

How had he advanced so far in just a few short years?

Silva and Kastro also fixed their eyes on Morin, eagerly awaiting his answer.

"Age? Decades?"

Morin chuckled softly, closing his eyes as if reflecting.

"I've indeed been training for over twenty years," he said, his tone as calm as ever.

The room fell silent for a moment, and then Zeno let out a dry laugh.

"If you don't want to share, that's fine," he said, assuming Morin's statement was either a joke or a diversion to avoid revealing the truth.

"I'm simply stating the facts," Morin replied without flinching. "Believe it or not, that's up to you."

What he said was no lie. The strength of his aura was indeed equivalent to two decades of relentless training.

Although it had only been a little over three years since Morin completed his training under Biscuit Krueger, he had a secret tool that allowed him to defy the normal constraints of time: The Can Workstation.

This peculiar spatial artifact enabled time to flow at a staggering ratio—one hour inside equaled a full day outside.

By leveraging this tool, Morin maximized his training.

During the day, he carried out his usual activities in the outside world. But at night, he would enter the Can Workstation, dedicating eight hours—equivalent to eight days in real-time—to intensive training in Ten and Ren.

Each night's training effectively became a week's worth of progress.

Over the course of a single year in the outside world, Morin experienced the equivalent of seven years inside the workstation.

Thus, during the three years since leaving Biscuit, Morin had effectively trained for a total of 21 years.

Even accounting for interruptions and other activities, Morin's aura had reached a level of refinement and strength that equated to at least two decades of dedicated training.

A year ago, during his fight with Uvogin near the Mosiba capital, Morin had indeed held back.

As Machi had correctly surmised, he deliberately restrained himself to avoid crushing Uvogin's confidence. It was, after all, merely a sparring match among comrades—not a battle to the death.

Even if Uvogin had insisted that Morin fight at full strength, there was no benefit to either side in doing so.

Now, however, standing before Silva and Zeno, Morin felt no need to hold back.

Not only did he have a host of specialized tools at his disposal, but his raw power and skill placed him firmly among the most formidable fighters on the continent.

Twenty years of aura cultivation was no small feat.

However, it wasn't merely the quantity of aura that mattered—it was the innate talent and effort behind it.

For example, even among participants of the Hunter Exam, there was a vast difference between individuals like Gon and Killua compared to others like Leorio or Hanzo.

Similarly, talent dictated the speed and quality of growth.

Morin, with his exceptional aptitude and access to resources like the Can Workstation, had achieved in three years what would take others decades.

His aura's intensity was now on par with Zeno's, and perhaps even surpassed Silva's.

If Silva, for example, began training in Nen at age 10 and was now 37, his total years of experience in Nen would amount to just under 30 years.

Even considering Silva's natural talent and the Zoldyck family's resources, Morin's calculated and accelerated training gave him a decisive edge.

Morin's 20 years' worth of aura wasn't just a number—it was a testament to unparalleled efficiency and prodigious talent.

The Zoldycks—renowned assassins feared across the world—would now face a rare challenge. Could they truly match the overwhelming strength that Morin had cultivated?

However, if Zeno and Silva worked together against Morin, they might still have a sliver of hope.

"It seems this matter won't be resolved peacefully," Zeno sighed once again.

He wasn't usually one to repeat himself, but he had already said this several times today.

"To have cultivated such extraordinary skills at your age, and not be affiliated with any major organization…" Zeno's expression turned uncharacteristically complex. "A young talent like you, truly, I've never encountered before."

"If we had known someone like you was standing behind those two…"

"And then?" Morin interjected, his tone calm. "Would you have turned down the request?"

"Of course not!" Zeno replied without hesitation. "As assassins, we don't reject jobs."

"But…"

Zeno's left foot shifted slightly backward, his hands moving fluidly to form a series of intricate gestures.

"The client must at least offer a price worthy of the task!"

Whoosh!

A radiant golden dragon suddenly materialized in Zeno's hands, where a concentrated surge of Nen had gathered.

The dragon roared as it cut through the air, speeding toward Morin with a force that could shred anything in its path.

At the same time, Silva's silver hair began to billow despite the lack of wind, as threads of powerful Nen infused every strand. From the tips of his hair, glowing projectiles began to form—each one pulsating with immense energy.

Both Zeno and Silva understood clearly that, with Morin ready for battle, there would be no end to this without a serious exchange of blows.

Rather than let Morin dictate the pace, it was better to strike first!

"Here they come," Morin muttered, his sharp gaze capturing every nuance of their attack.

"As expected of the renowned Zoldyck assassins. They've certainly got some tricks."

He smiled faintly, making no move to dodge.

Boom!

The golden dragon roared, and Silva's Nen-infused projectiles exploded, filling the air with deafening shockwaves.

Dust and sand were thrown into the air, obscuring the battlefield momentarily.

Kastro watched with visible tension, while Machi appeared slightly calmer—she knew Morin possessed a tool that was as close to Absolute Defense as one could get.

It was the same tool that even Phinks' devastating Ripper Cyclotron couldn't break through.

And sure enough, as the dust settled, Morin remained standing, entirely unscathed.

The ground within a one-meter radius around him was completely cleared, forming a perfect vacuum zone. The sand and debris had been utterly obliterated by Zeno and Silva's combined assault.

"Unbreakable defense?!"

Both Zeno and Silva stared at Morin, scrutinizing him in search of a clue.

"A defensive Nen ability?"

The thought crossed Zeno's mind, but he quickly dismissed it.

"No, with Nen fundamentals as solid as his, he doesn't seem like someone who passively relies on defense alone."

Though his expression remained composed, Zeno's thoughts were racing.

"To effortlessly withstand both Silva's and my attacks, even a defensive ability couldn't manage such perfection."

Years of assassination experience honed Zeno's ability to analyze opponents mid-battle, yet Morin's case left him perplexed.

Zeno excelled at deconstructing an enemy's abilities through their movements during combat.

But Morin? He had done absolutely nothing. He simply stood there and negated their attacks.

It was the first time Zeno had encountered such a situation.

While Zeno pondered, Morin was clearly not inclined to give him much time for analysis.

Click.

The sound of two buttons being pressed echoed in the air.

Morin tossed out two Shadow Flashlights, and with a blinding burst of light, two jet-black figures emerged from the ground at his feet.

The shadows rose silently but menacingly and immediately darted toward Zeno and Silva with incredible speed.

"Shadows?!"

The realization struck both assassins simultaneously, but before they could react, the dark figures had already closed the distance.

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