That technique—clearly Eide's.
But with sufficient aura reserves and a solid grasp of Enhancement and Emission principles, using a palm-clap shockwave wasn't something restricted to a rare few.
Still, the fact that Gerrard was using it made Joey reconsider his earlier assumptions.
Could Gerrard's ability include the power to steal another's Hatsu?
No—based on what Joey knew, Gerrard's original Nen categories were likely Conjuration and Manipulation. Which meant…
He couldn't steal Hatsu.
But he could manipulate the abilities of those he'd already killed.
In other words, Eide's Nen ability had been repurposed, and now wielded by Gerrard himself.
But how?
Joey's gaze flicked to Eide's corpse.
In the short time since death, the body had desiccated—dried and shriveled like mummified remains.
"Blood…"
"He's manipulating blood…?"
The most plausible theory: Gerrard could harness the blood of the slain to wield their Nen techniques.
And Joey had almost missed it—
That punch Gerrard landed when he killed Eide... it must've been stained with blood. That was the key.
But just Eide's Hatsu wouldn't be enough to threaten me.
There must be more to it…
Joey glanced at his severed left arm.
From the raw, gory stump, he felt a tingling, an unnatural twitching.
The blood at the wound was… squirming, vibrating like worms trying to burrow into his flesh.
No—
That wasn't foreign blood.
That was his own.
"So… you noticed," Gerrard said smoothly.
He didn't approach.
Instead, he retrieved the handkerchief from his pocket again.
When he unfolded it, the Nen infused within was nearly depleted—
And then, with a sudden inhale, Gerrard drew the remaining aura into his lungs.
A grotesque mouth appeared on the fabric, biting Gerrard's wrist.
Blood didn't even have time to spill before the entire cloth turned into inky black mist, flowing into his body.
In the next instant, a new clone materialized before him.
The old one—its aura began to fade rapidly.
With it, veins across the body pulsed wildly, bloated, and finally exploded in a spray of gore.
"Eide's ability—Boiling Blood Fist—is simple," Gerrard explained.
"Land a blow, and I amplify the blood flow of the target."
"If I can touch their blood directly? Even better."
"Eventually, it feels like your blood's literally boiling."
He flicked blood from the fresh handkerchief he'd picked up.
The cloth was clean once more.
He turned with a smile, watching Joey, now red-faced and clutching his shoulder—
"You're strong, but in this match, it's clear I had the superior strategy."
The clone stepped in, reaching toward Joey's coat.
"Weapons like us—
even if memory fails, we never forget our purpose.
That purpose is etched into us by the ancient relics: the vows and restrictions that guide our conquest."
"You're not one of us," he sneered.
"You're a native. A lucky host to a seed gone astray."
"Pity," he sighed, fingers brushing Joey's inner pocket.
"I was hoping for a comrade.
"But it seems I'll have to carry the burden alone."
But as he reached into Joey's jacket—
His fingers passed through the wallet… and touched something else.
A strange, flitting sensation—a living creature.
Gerrard's eyes shot wide.
But before he could react—
His body bloated, twisted, and exploded into ash.
As a bloodstained handkerchief fluttered down, Joey's "body" vanished—
Revealing the faint blue dragonfly that had been hovering in place all along.
He'd never been there.
Back when Joey sensed something wrong with his blood, the Weather Nen Beast had already appeared.
Using its ability, Mirage, it cast a precise illusion just thirty centimeters ahead of Joey's true position.
Bending light, warping perception—
Even surveillance cameras couldn't spot him.
Gerrard's clone had reached for the illusion.
And in that instant, Joey had flicked a coin, transformed it into the dragonfly—
With Killer Queen's First Bomb attached.
The clone's fate was sealed.
As for the blood-based affliction?
Joey had immediately amputated the infected arm, using his Stand to sever it before the ability could spread further.
"No hesitation," he thought.
"Decisions like that separate the living from the dead."
After Gerrard's clone evaporated, Joey scooped up the falling handkerchief and broke into a sprint toward the arena's exit.
Above him, one by one, the security cameras shattered.
Each time, he flicked a Nen-charged coin—precise shots that disabled Gerrard's remote eyes.
He'd considered destroying them earlier.
But back then, stealth had mattered.
Now? Gerrard's real body was watching.
Joey needed to cut the feed—
And more importantly, reach the surveillance room.
"He's probably taken the original recordings with him…
"But in a low-tech world like this, there's no instant backup.
"If I find him before he can analyze the footage, I still have a chance."
Problem was, Gerrard was paranoid.
Tracking him wouldn't be easy.
And with the evacuation tunnels still blocked, getting to the upper floors would be tough.
"Still… I'm not alone in this."
Earlier, when Joey had phoned Kite about the Divine Glyphs, he'd anticipated this wouldn't be a solo operation.
Kite had helped him contact a specialist—
A professional who'd once worked with Joey, and who had a deep interest in the glyphs.
Piyon, the Linguistics Hunter.
Member of the Zodiac Twelve, codename Rabbit.
Piyon wouldn't fight.
Attacking a high-ranking figure like Gerrard was beyond even the Zodiac's jurisdiction.
But she could support.
Watch. Relay. Save him if necessary.
Even now, Joey believed Piyon was moving.
Gerrard had just lost a clone. Surely she would deduce the location of the original body.
Joey's eyes swept across the arena—
The fight between Hisoka and Chrollo had reached its boiling point.
Different from how it played out in the manga—
Back there, Hisoka had been overwhelmed, unable to locate Chrollo amid the endless puppets.
But now, thanks to Joey's chaos, Hisoka had locked onto Chrollo and was in hot pursuit.
Still, the sheer number of puppets, the prep work Chrollo had done…
"Hisoka might still lose," Joey judged.
After all, he'd given Chrollo far too much prep time.
Chrollo chose the battlefield, dictated the terms, and even rigged the audience.
Without Joey's interference, Hisoka would've never even gotten this close.
But in the end, it didn't matter to Joey who won.
"This isn't my game."
With the Weather Beast propelling him via violent wind currents, Joey shot forward—
Anyone within two meters of his body was hurled aside by the storm.
Screams. Chaos. Injuries.
Joey didn't care.
He needed a way out.
The whirlwind cleared a path.
He burst out of the arena—
Just as his phone vibrated in his pocket.
No time to check.
Ahead of him, a team of arena security and emergency responders blocked the exit.
Among them, two men broke from the ranks.
Aura flared around them—Ren.
They were Nen users.
Special forces, trained for incidents on the 200th floor.
"Here we go again."