"This fortress was built to be quite sturdy. For it to collapse so quickly, the intruder's Nen weapon must be impressive," Ron mused, eyeing the laptop screen. "It might not be any weaker than my Rotten Life Blade, though the two are completely different types. Rotten Life Blade is about excels in drawn-out fights, draining opponents over time. That other weapon seems focused on sharpness and durability."
On the screen, one intruder charged straight at Tuck, while the other bolted toward Karu. Most of Karu's guards were either dead or had fled, so now was the perfect opportunity. Miss this chance, and it might never come again. Tuck's power grew stronger the longer the fight dragged on. Given enough time, the two intruders together wouldn't be able to stop him. Whatever had happened to Nesli, they could only assume the worst.
"Kill!"
Scissors in hand, the intruder dashed for Karu.
"Hurry, stop her!" Karu ordered his remaining guards. Yet the intruder's fierce aura left them hesitant. Karu's face darkened. "If you don't fight, I'll have your families executed! If I die here, you know my father's methods—every one of your relatives will be buried along with me!"
That ultimatum left the guards no choice. Even knowing it meant certain death, they lunged.
"Attack!"
In a flash, the intruder's scissors caught one guard at the neck.
Slash!
His head flew off, blood gushing like a fountain from the severed artery. Karu kept retreating, ducking behind a guard's back.
Nesli, still watching Ron and Ponzu, finally couldn't hold back. "Who exactly are you two? Why haven't you killed me? You're obviously strong enough. Why not finish me off, yet also keep me from leaving?"
Ponzu glanced at Ron, equally unsure. Ron looked at Nesli. "Because the timing isn't right."
"What timing?" Nesli asked.
"I took a commission from Tuck to kill one of you three from Nightfall. He designated you as the target, so that's why I came here," Ron said plainly. "But there's a problem with that commission. Tuck is still caught up in a fight, and I can't be certain he'll survive. If Tuck dies, I won't be able to collect my fee from a dead client. That means I'd have done the work for nothing, which goes against my principles."
Ron continued, "At the same time, I can't let you escape either, because there's still a chance Tuck will live. Once I'm sure Tuck is safe—and can pay me—then I'll kill you."
Nesli froze, finding it impossible to accept. In her mind, life and death were at stake, with comrades threatened on both sides. Yet to Ron, it was a straightforward calculation, like a routine job—no emotional weight at all, as if he were just cooking a meal or making a delivery.
Ponzu understood better. The longer she spent around Ron, the more she realized how his mindset worked—and how it was starting to influence her. For ordinary people, matters of life and death create high tension, but Ron was anything but ordinary. He was born into an assassin family and had completed who knew how many assassination missions. In his eyes, removing "the life-and-death emotional investment" was part of the job.
"So that's it?" Nesli asked quietly.
"That's right."
Nesli gave a bitter laugh. "You really care so little for our lives? Fine, we're enemies, I can accept that. But you don't even care about Tuck's life? Aren't you his hired killer? Will you just stand aside and watch him die?"
Ron shook his head. "Tuck hired me to kill one of you—he never hired me for his protection. Why do extra work for free? Do you enjoy taking on extra tasks?"
Nesli countered, "But if Tuck dies, won't that mean you came here for nothing?"
"Yes," Ron admitted.
"Then if you protect him, you'll definitely get paid, right?"
Ron nodded, but asked in return, "Why should I do that? I uphold the rules of the assassin trade. If I start taking on extra tasks just because I'm worried the client might die, how would I handle similar situations in the future? People would expect me to do more work without compensation. As for coming here in vain… It's not a big loss. Let others see this and think carefully before deciding to skimp on me—or be willing to pay extra for more comprehensive service, rather than forcing me to do it for free.
That's more important to me."
He then shot Nesli a pointed look. "Besides, isn't your own behavior strange? In this scenario, the fact you're still alive is beneficial for you. Yet it seems you're trying to convince me to help Tuck. Don't you want to survive? Or do you not care if your partners live?"
Nesli froze, tongue-tied. Only then did she realize: in defending her sense of morality and priorities, she was inadvertently disregarding her own life—and that of her comrades—as she tried to goad Ron into intervening. But that wouldn't help her at all. If anything, her logic felt far more twisted than his.
She stared at Ron for a long time.
"Can someone really remain this calm and calculating in a situation like this? This is terrifying. Who is this guy?"
At last, Nesli made a request.
"May I… see what's going on over there?"
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