Among the dozens of characters Oboro had created, many possessed passive and active abilities that enhanced various attributes.
For health, there were the dog-headed crocodiles. For defense and attack, there were the weapons and the trolls. For speed, there were the swordsmen and werewolves. His arsenal included blood-sucking abilities, stealth, and more. Right now, he had access to every ability he had ever created.
Not just the character abilities, but all the runes and summoner spells as well.
His equipment slots had increased from the original two to six.
The reason was simple: the game world he had spent years creating had collapsed.
The vast reservoir of mental power and game rules he had accumulated over the years was now being used without restraint in these precious moments.
He had gone beyond the limits of his Nen abilities because his Nen had responded to his will.
All this time, Oboro had consciously strengthened his will and tried to shape his thoughts in an "idealistic" way to achieve a qualitative transformation, but he had never really succeeded. The reason was simple: he had never really believed in himself or his "thoughts.
He had always seen the "mind" as a mere tool.
The collapse of the game world had thrown his consciousness into chaos.
There was no analysis, no calculation. The game world had collapsed into chaos, its data flow corrupted into garbled code, completely out of control.
The last words Ik spoke before he lost consciousness were: "I can resurrect? Can you?"
Those words sparked a pure thought in Oboro's mind.
He can be resurrected!
He can be resurrected!
He wants to be resurrected!
To achieve this goal, he had to break through his limitations, his thoughts had to transcend his game world, which was created out of his own thoughts.
Thoughts were the foundation and basis of everything.
His thoughts were the answer.
The price was the collapse of the game world and the server crash.
Now, Ik was completely immobilized because Oboro's skill cooldowns were too fast, and the runes and equipment related to skill haste, combined with his various control abilities, allowed him to chain his skills together endlessly.
A werewolf's shadow leapt from Oboro's body, letting out a long howl before lunging at Ik. Its sharp claws slashed at the target's body like twin blades.
The mental power Ik had gathered to defend himself was consumed, slicing through him.
Warwick, the Uncaged Wrath of Zaun, possessed an ultimate called Infinite Duress with a suppression effect, and a primal howl to instill fear in targets.
Compared to Hisoka, who had fought like a mad dog earlier, Oboro now seemed more like a true demon, a devil crawling out of hell!
As the number of attacks increased, the old man's telekinesis constantly tried to counter.
The Crocodile's Ruthless Predator triggered a stun.
The weapon's abilities, Ik's techniques, every ability manifested through telekinesis struck Ik, trapping the old man in a perpetual cycle of control effects as his time grew shorter.
Oboro's expression was like that of a child enjoying candy, a constant grin spreading across his face.
His smile contrasted sharply with the pallor of Ik's face.
After what seemed like an eternity, the old man's formidable mental strength finally dissipated, leaving only a fragile body.
"Hahaha"
The monotonous laugh emanated from his throat, carrying a dull, mechanical quality.
Facing the Bozwa Chief's dilated pupils, he jumped directly onto his body, his hands becoming drills and knives, slashing downward again and again!
The scene exuded an evil aura that made one's scalp crawl.
Oboro's mouth opened and closed with a silent smile.
The old man's torso was gradually torn apart, blood spurting in all directions.
Oboro's attack never stopped.
He was enjoying himself.
Ik's limbs shook and twitched before they went limp.
He had been resurrected.
He took his last chance to sacrifice himself.
By the time he reanimated, the ritual was already over.
After regaining his normal strength, he had no means to resist this demon, who treated him like a 'toy' and destroyed him at will.
Being tortured alive
First the head, then the upper body until the old man was completely dismembered, only then did Oboro release him.
He stared blankly at the dead elder, as if to ask himself, "Why doesn't the other one move?
Why don't you want to play with me?
Can't you recover?
He waited, as if he expected the mangled corpse to rise again.
A hint of disappointment flickered in his bloodshot eyes.
After a long time, he finally staggered over to Hisoka.
He tilted his head at the unconscious figure lying on the ground.
Then he bent down, lifted Hisoka by the feet and slowly opened his mouth.
With great force, he bit into Hisoka's shoulder, spraying thick blood.
Just as he was about to continue feeding, the mental power that enveloped him suddenly dissipated like smoke in the wind.
His blurred vision cleared, his eyes regaining their whiteness, the black specks in his pupils disappearing.
His swollen muscles showed obvious signs of atrophy, and he collapsed to the ground next to Hisoka.
Hunters Association.
Chairman's office.
Beep beep beep
Netero stood by the window with his hands behind his back, his cell phone ringing relentlessly on the desk behind him.
After a while, the call was finally answered.
"Hey, Chairman."
"Where are you?" Netero turned and asked.
"We've entered East Gorteau and are heading for the Sawtooth Mountains. We'll be there in half a day," Biscuit's voice came through the line.
Netero had been unsure if Oboro could handle both the ritual and the Bozwas.
This was a test for him.
Though he hadn't said it directly, after the last phone call with Oboro, Biscuit had become worried and had recruited two other members of the Association for support.
Morel and a one-star beast hunter named Basho.
Oboro didn't know about this.
It would be ideal if they could meet Oboro before entering the Sawtooth Mountains.
That would mean that Oboro wouldn't have to face the "ritual" directly. These three would be a strong support for Oboro's makeshift team.
But it was also possible that all they would find was Oboro's corpse.
Biscuit had already met Ping and the others and learned that Oboro had only brought three Nen users to the Bozwa tribe's base.
Without much thought, she could guess that these three Nen users must be extremely weak and inexperienced.
Oboro was too careless!
She had always thought of him as intelligent.
Since he had discovered that it was some kind of ritual, he could have waited until it was over before taking action. His mission was to get the ritual artifact. The fate of the king of East Gorteau and the Bozwa tribe wasn't part of the mission.
It would take longer, but waiting would ensure safety.
Obviously, Oboro didn't want to wait, believing he could handle the "ritual" or at worst escape.
Or maybe they responded to the old man's "neutrality" with their own statement.
Either way, Biscuit found Oboro's method deeply flawed.
She decided to teach the boy a lesson when she found him.
She understood aspects of Oboro's personality, she believed he was rebellious at heart, and joining the Association now was just like his time in the Heaven's Arena.
The problem was that the mission of the Association was fundamentally different from Heaven's Arena.
Chairman Netero had predicted this.
Biscuit understood the old man's good intentions, but still felt that he was being a bit harsh.
"I've just received word that some of the living parasites have regained consciousness, and the dead animals have not been resurrected. The ritual has either been destroyed or completed".
Netero spoke seriously.
"Was it Oboro?"
Biscuit felt relief, which meant that Oboro had succeeded!
"But I can't contact him. We're not sure if he's still alive."
Netero's next words made Biscuit gasp.
"Find him quickly."
"Yes."
After hanging up, Biscuit quickened her pace.
Morel and Basho matched her increased speed.
They had clearly heard the conversation between Biscuit and the Chairman.
"With his team configuration, completing this task alone is something the Association planned to form an elite team for," Morel glanced at Biscuit, "No wonder the Chairman values him so highly."
"Stop talking and hurry!"
Biscuit's serious expression was rare for her.
She had called Morel because his En ability would be extremely useful to locate Oboro quickly in unknown territory.
"Um, what's your relationship to him?"
Morel seemed surprised, "Your apprentice?"
"No, he owes me a precious gem."
"Oh, that explains it."
Morel finally understood.
A few hours later, the trio, running at full speed, reached the Bozwa settlement, entered the cave, and continued into the mountain.
"This is it."
As they entered the ruined underground chamber, their expressions changed.
The brutality and magnitude of the battle that had taken place here was immediately apparent.
Biscuit covered her mouth with both hands when she found Oboro, his shriveled form almost unrecognizable.
Weak aura
"This is it."
Morel, a veteran hunter, also saw Oboro's condition and struggled for words.
In this state, it was a miracle that he was still alive!