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Chapter 653
🕑 Added 2025-07-06 15:35:04 +0000 UTCChapter 653
Note: Hyea, just a quick note about the poll: less than 50% answered or saw it, so unfortunately, we can not go with any of the changes. Next time, we will make it 2 weeks before an arc begins. That way, we can at least make sure 51% of our members see it:
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The moment the lightning-infused Nen projectile reached Oster, it exploded. The powerful current locked his body into a momentary state of paralysis.
“Now’s our chance!” Hisoka’s eyes gleamed.
Chrollo’s expression sharpened. Both attacked at once.
Shhk! A dozen razor-edged cards flew toward Oster as Hisoka flicked his wrist. Simultaneously, Chrollo blinked out of view and reappeared behind Oster, hurling a large cloth to ensnare him.
“Get lost!” Oster’s voice roared, filled with force and fury.
Just as the attacks were about to hit, Oster broke through the paralysis. Two giant pythons materialized—one coiled to intercept Hisoka’s cards, the other lunged directly at Chrollo.
But Oster’s gaze locked onto Ron instead.
That lightning projectile had left an impression. Electric-type abilities were highly effective against Nen users. Though Nen could be shaped into various forms—fire, frost, explosions—true mastery required deep familiarity. Killua had developed lightning Nen precisely because of his early exposure to electric torture. In the Chimera Ant arc, even someone as overwhelmingly resilient as Youpi had been stalled by Killua’s electric attacks. While they hadn’t done physical damage, they disrupted movement enough to shift the tide.
Youpi’s raw aura output surpassed Netero’s. His body wasn’t human—it belonged to another species entirely. Even with limited technique, Youpi’s sheer force made him a monster. He could brute-force through refined Nen tactics. And yet even he was momentarily stopped because of lightning.
Ron’s lightning projectile didn’t injure Oster directly, but it interfered with his movement—something Franklin and the others had failed to achieve.
On the ground, a cluster of aura formed in Oster’s hand and transformed into a serpent. It slithered soundlessly toward Ron.
When it neared, it struck without warning.
Shhk!
It shot forward, baring its fangs.
Ron didn’t flinch. He raised his foot and slammed it down, crushing the snake’s head. The serpent burst apart from the impact.
Oster frowned. Hisoka was repelled with a single blow, and another giant python surged toward Ron, just as Oster had done against Franklin earlier.
But Ron wasn’t Franklin. His strength far surpassed his.
As the massive python lunged with its jaws wide open, Ron calmly infused aura into the Six Harmonies Sphere.
“Projectile Nen: explosion.”
He hurled the sphere directly into the python’s mouth. It exploded mid-throat.
Boom! The entire beast erupted.
“Projectile Nen: Corrosion.”
Just as the python shattered, another Nen shot flew straight at Oster. It struck, and a corrosive energy spread across his body. He was forced to divert aura to defend against it.
The stone floor beneath him began to sizzle—dozens of pits opened where the corrosive aura touched.
Thanks to Ron’s presence, the pressure on Hisoka and Chrollo dropped significantly.
Seeing this, Franklin wisely withdrew from the fight. His injuries and lower combat level would only hold them back now. Better to assist elsewhere.
He arrived outside just as Feitan and Pakunoda were locked in combat with the black-haired youth.
After being scorched by Feitan’s Pain Packer, the black-haired youth had lost much of his strength—but so had Feitan. Pakunoda, meanwhile, lacked offensive power altogether.
Nearby, Hooker was tending to Phinks and Bonolenov. Shalnark’s corpse lay motionless beside them—no hope of revival.
As Franklin approached, Feitan and Pakunoda glanced over.
Their faces lit up—then dimmed again when they saw the state he was in.
“Franklin, what’s the situation?” Feitan asked.
“Ron, Hisoka, and the boss are triple-teaming that guy. I’m not strong enough anymore—too injured. I’d just drag them down,” Franklin replied, eyes shifting to the black-haired youth. “So this is your opponent?”
He didn’t wait for a response. Lifting a single finger, he fired a small Nen bullet.
Unlike his usual ten-finger barrage, this single shot used less aura and caused less destruction—but it was enough to apply pressure.
With Franklin joining the fight, the black-haired youth was gradually pushed into a corner.
“How’s your side, Hooker?” Franklin asked, eyes still tracking his opponent.
“Phinks and Bonolenov are out of danger,” Hooker responded quickly. “But Shalnark’s gone. There was nothing I could do.”
Franklin’s expression darkened.
Shalnark had always had a strong presence in the Troupe—not a front-line fighter, but a strategist, the mind behind many of their operations. Intelligence gathering, planning—he did it all. Chrollo made the final decisions, but Shalnark had always been the one offering the most input.
Without him, the Troupe wouldn’t have developed so smoothly.
“First Uvogin. Then Kortopi. Now Shalnark.”
“Three members gone in a single operation... Damn those Underworld Mafia bastards. This can’t go unpunished. Once this is over, they’ll pay. No matter what.”
It wasn’t just Franklin—every member of the Phantom Troupe was burning with rage.
Hooker didn’t share the same emotional bonds with them. But when it came to hatred for the Underworld Mafia, his ran deeper than any of theirs.
“Damn you,” Feitan growled through gritted teeth. “This is your end!”
He hurled a string of vicious curses in his hometown dialect.
A Nen bullet tore into the black-haired youth’s body. He faltered.
Feitan’s attack followed instantly—
Shhk!
—and withdrew just as fast.
Franklin raised all ten fingers.
“Double-Handed Nen Machine Gun!”
Comments
hector lyng
Great chapter, thank you very much, and I agree. I think the Green Island saga should be a long publication. I really like this novel. Thanks for this creation.
