The pain and physical trauma from the bullet were secondary. It was the black flames erupting instantly from the gunshot wound that plunged Bonolenov into pure, unadulterated despair!
He frantically channeled Nen into the wound, trying to siphon the black flames onto his aura, but it was entirely futile.
He violently whipped his head up, scanning the crowd for the shooter.
It was a young man with light blonde hair. But the most striking feature was his eyes—they were a mesmerizing, blood-soaked crimson!!
They were eyes Bonolenov knew all too well: the Scarlet Eyes!
Kurapika! The name exploded in Bonolenov's mind just as the flames ruthlessly surged outward from his wound, fully engulfing him.
Originally, Bonolenov hadn't been Kurapika's target. But Kurapika hadn't anticipated Ronin hitting Bonolenov with a point-blank Amaterasu at the very last second.
When Bonolenov was teleported away covered in black flames, Kurapika recognized the perfect opening. He immediately cast [Magnetic Force], tracking Bonolenov all the way to Antokiba.
Even then, Kurapika didn't rush in recklessly. He waited for the absolute most critical moment to deliver the fatal strike.
Now, trapped in the inescapable inferno with absolutely no way to shed the flames again, Bonolenov completely lost his mind.
He was going to drag the bastard who destroyed his last hope straight to hell with him!
But it was pointless.
The moment Bonolenov took his first frenzied step forward, a spell card had already materialized in Kurapika's hand.
[Start]. Though it would only return him to the starting point—which wasn't too far from Antokiba—the distance was vast enough that Bonolenov could never cross it.
He would be thoroughly incinerated long before his hands ever reached Kurapika.
Kurapika had absolutely no desire to interrogate him. His crimson eyes simply stared coldly at the agonizing, despair-driven madness consuming the Phantom Troupe member.
Bonolenov let out a final, harrowing laugh. Paired with the wailing screech of the countless holes across his body, he orchestrated the most gruesome spectacle right outside the gates of Antokiba.
He was burned alive by the black flames.
While his Nen offered a marginal defense against the Amaterasu, it only served to delay his death, prolonging the excruciating torture as the fire slowly devoured him.
But Bonolenov wasn't ready to die. He fought for a miracle until his final breath.
And because of that sheer stubbornness, he endured the most horrific agony imaginable.
Kurapika felt a profound sense of satisfaction watching Bonolenov die. Even if the method seemed somewhat cruel, the sheer intensity of Bonolenov's will to live was staggering.
Yet, as the man finally perished, a deep, cathartic wave of vindication washed over Kurapika's soul.
He hadn't killed Bonolenov entirely on his own, but this time, he had delivered the final, decisive blow.
He hoped the spirits of his parents and his clan could see this. With Ronin's guidance, he had grown immensely, transforming into someone capable of standing on his own.
Silent tears fell as he turned away. His face held no twisted pleasure from the revenge—only unshakeable resolve.
.....
The target destination was a dense forest area.
While it wasn't particularly famous, it was an excellent trial ground, simply because several A-rank difficulty monsters roamed the vicinity.
In Ronin's eyes, even a B-rank monster possessed combat capabilities roughly equivalent to a 200th-floor fighter at Heaven's Arena. An A-rank monster was something even standard Nen users had to actively avoid.
However, in Greed Island, these highly capable monsters weren't Designated Slot cards—they were just mobs to be farmed for cash or quest items.
Ronin and Feitan materialized right in the heart of this forest.
There were no monsters nearby, nor any "spectators." The only sounds were the occasional chirping of bugs and birds.
"You picked this place as your grave? I gotta say, you've got pretty good taste," Feitan sneered, immediately launching a verbal assault.
However, his dense Ken and perfectly coiled stance made it glaringly obvious that the millisecond Ronin exposed a flaw, he would launch a lethal strike!
"Feeling confident? You should know, I figured out how your ability works a long time ago," Ronin bluffed aggressively.
Well, it was half true. The destructive output of Feitan's ability was directly proportional to the damage he took.
The reason Ronin considered Feitan such a massive threat was due to a lingering premonition: killing him might trigger the absolute strongest iteration of his Nen.
Death was, after all, the ultimate injury!
An extremist like Feitan would never die peacefully without unleashing his Nen. He would absolutely believe that a post-mortem detonation would guarantee mutual destruction.
It was a lethal catch-22.
The best way to deal with Feitan was to insta-kill him. But an insta-kill risked triggering a cataclysmic post-mortem Nen explosion.
If he didn't insta-kill him and instead beat him into critical condition, Feitan could still unleash a devastatingly powerful attack. If Ronin survived that, should he finish Feitan off? That might just trigger the post-mortem explosion anyway.
If he didn't finish him off, a critically injured Feitan could just buy time, recharge, and detonate a second time.
However, Ronin had already formulated his own specific strategy for dealing with Feitan.
"Heh," Feitan scoffed. In a pure one-on-one, he feared no one.
"Want me to go first?" Ronin smirked, playing the gentleman. "I gotta admit, I didn't expect your guts to be as stunted as your height."
The insult struck Feitan's absolute worst nerve. A chilling, suffocating wave of killing intent violently erupted from his body.
In a flash, he vanished from where he stood.
The corner of Ronin's mouth curled up. Instead of using ninjutsu, he simply matched the explosive speed. The moment Feitan materialized at his flank, Ronin threw a devastating punch straight at him.
Feitan opted to dodge. He could sense that the kinetic force behind Ronin's punch was no weaker than Uvogin's Big Bang Impact.
This guy is a pure monster! But Ronin's Sharingan meticulously tracked every single twitch of Feitan's muscles and every microscopic shift in his aura.
So, as Feitan moved, Ronin seamlessly adjusted his trajectory, relentlessly pressing the attack.
Feitan had been the one to initiate the clash, but the moment he closed the distance, the dynamic instantly inverted. He was forced entirely onto the defensive.
He continuously thrust his rapier, but Ronin evaded every single strike with pinpoint precision, countering with ruthlessly calculated punches.
Barely a minute into the clash, Feitan felt a suffocating wave of frustration.
Because every single time Ronin's fist was perfectly aligned to crush him, it would inexplicably veer off course at the last possible microsecond, brushing harmlessly past him.
It felt exactly like Ronin was deliberately avoiding causing him any physical harm.
Does this bastard actually know how my ability works? The thought involuntarily crept into Feitan's mind.
---
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