The swordsman waited patiently for an opening, fighting much like Nobunaga—waiting for the opponent to slip or reveal a gap so he could deliver one decisive, lethal strike. Drawing the blade only once, cutting the enemy down in a single motion—that was the essence of Iai. Yet he simply couldn't find an opening.
To his eyes, Silva had no weaknesses. No matter how carefully he studied his target, he saw no flaw to exploit. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead and along his cheek.
Silva stood there, arms crossed, having observed the swordsman's tense state. By doing nothing, he effectively pinned his opponent in place. The swordsman's aura and concentration slowly eroded. Silva had trained his patience from a very young age—waiting an entire month without moving an inch to assassinate a single target, surviving on a handful of dry rations and filthy water.
That kind of endurance and patience far exceeded anything the swordsman possessed.
When two fighters remained in a stalemate like this, the moment either broke the deadlock would likely decide the battle.
"This guy's a monster," the swordsman thought grimly.
But the real monster, at least externally, was fighting elsewhere.
Tri-Eye, another of the Herd, had taken one look at Hisoka and felt immediate dislike. In truth, the Herd members themselves weren't entirely united; Tri-Eye already disliked the middle-aged clown among them, and Hisoka's style reminded him of that clown—except with a far more striking presence. This fueled Tri-Eye's distaste.
A pair of curved blades appeared in Tri-Eye's hands. The shape reminded Hisoka of an incident during the Hunter Exam, when a proctor who used similar weapons tried to get revenge and ended up being killed in return.
Tri-Eye swung his scimitars, conjuring a razor-sharp wind blade that slashed toward Hisoka.
Hisoka sized him up.
"Not bad. Not on the level of Ron, Illumi, or Chrollo…but still good enough to be entertaining."
He smiled. "Think of it as a warm-up before my real match with Ron."
When the wind blade was about to connect, Hisoka casually shifted one foot aside so that it whistled harmlessly past him. In the next moment, he surged forward, drawing out a deck of playing cards with a flick of his wrist.
Swish!
A perfect arc of cards sliced through the air.
"A Jack!"
Tri-Eye deflected them with his blades. Shreds of cardstock fell to the ground, only for Hisoka to produce another set.
"How about a game?" Hisoka asked. "I'll draw a random card; if it's odd, I let you hit me without resistance. If it's even, you let me land a strike.
Sound fair?"
Tri-Eye's first reaction was that Hisoka had to be crazy. This was a lethal fight—losing meant dying. Yet as he thought about it, he realized if the card came up odd, that free hit might grant a massive advantage. And if it came up even, well, he had no obligation to honour the deal. It was all in his favour.
"You're serious?"
Hisoka nodded.
"Then draw."
Tri-Eye tightened his grip on his blades, staying ready to strike no matter what.
Hisoka began shuffling, a flurry of dazzling moves. Though Nen users had keen eyesight, Hisoka's speed and showy style surpassed what Tri-Eye could track. Tri-Eye found himself slowly mesmerized by the spectacle.
At last, Hisoka stopped.
"Time to draw."
Moving with exaggerated slowness, he slid out a single card and turned it over.
"Hearts Three—congratulations, you win. Go ahead, take your free shot. I won't resist."
He slipped the card into his pocket and spread his arms wide.
"Well?"
Tri-Eye frowned, both excited and wary.
"Is this guy for real—just letting me attack him?"
But such a chance was too good to miss. Tri-Eye poured aura into his scimitar and slashed at Hisoka. A blade of wind ripped across Hisoka's torso with deadly precision.
Splurt!
Blood sprayed, staining the ground beneath Hisoka's feet. Tri-Eye's eyes narrowed.
"He truly didn't dodge? I missed his vitals, but still… Is he an idiot?"
Hisoka smirked.
"Shall we continue?"
"Of course!" Tri-Eye growled.
Once more, Hisoka shuffled the cards, employing a fresh series of ornate flourishes. Again, Tri-Eye found his attention inexplicably drawn in.
"I'm drawing now," Hisoka said at length, pulling out another card at a snail's pace and flipping it over.
"Spades Seven. Lucky you—another free shot."
He spread his arms just as before. Tri-Eye wasted no time, lashing out a second time. This wind blade struck squarely at Hisoka's chest, carving so deep the bone showed through. Tri-Eye let out a laugh at the sight.
"What a fool!"
Yet again, Hisoka merely smiled at him.
"Shall we keep playing?"