The Terror Lord froze for a moment.
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said."
The Terror Lord narrowed his eyes, studying Ron closely.
"So you're that certain I'll end up being killed by you?"
"As an assassin, killing is what I'm best at. That much I can guarantee."
"Hmph." The Terror Lord let out a cold snort. "You're just relying on an intelligence advantage. I don't believe you have any new tricks left. If you don't, then from here on, all of your attacks will be useless against me."
He stood up. Ron looked at him calmly.
In the next instant, the Terror Lord's body shot forward toward Ron's position.
Natsu's figure flickered, moving to block his path. But the Terror Lord barreled straight ahead as if he didn't even see Natsu. Just before colliding with him, his figure vanished, reappearing behind Natsu, and continued rushing toward Ron. Natsu no longer had the chance to intercept him.
Ron's eyes flashed. Facing the incoming charge, he raised his hand.
"Fusion Nen Bullet—Flame, Storm. Scorching Nen Bullet!"
Two Nen bullets merged, the combined attack far stronger than a single shot, surging toward the Terror Lord.
But just before the blast struck, his form vanished again. The Scorching Nen Bullet detonated in midair with a thunderous boom, engulfing the surrounding area.
Clap!
Natsu brought his hands together, swapping Ron's position with Uchiha Sasuke's.
"Rashomon—Susanoo!"
A dark red giant took shape.
Bang!
The Terror Lord turned his head toward them, and at last Ron saw the truth of his opponent. It wasn't that his body was covered in golden cockroaches for defense—his entire body was composed of them. This wasn't a human at all, but a mass of countless insects.
Suddenly, everything made sense. Why so many attacks had left him unharmed. Why even the Sheer Heart Attack Bomb hadn't caused lasting damage. It had hurt him—shrinking his entire form by a size, shortening his stature—but it hadn't destroyed him.
The realization made Ron's scalp prickle. This kind of existence was absurd—more outrageous than the Chimera Ants, stranger than the products of biological experimentation.
Ron thought quickly. If his true body was an insect colony, then killing him meant wiping out every single golden cockroach without exception. If even a small fraction survived, they could breed more.
An endless swarm.
That wasn't something pure offensive power could accomplish. It was like dealing with termites in a house—killing the visible ones wasn't enough, because countless others could be hidden away. Seeing a single cockroach meant there were already many more in the shadows.
Ron guessed the Terror Lord would never keep all of his cockroaches in one place. It was certain some were hidden elsewhere.
Ron didn't like leaving loose ends. Finding and eliminating them all was nearly impossible, but if there were a contagious agent specifically targeting golden cockroaches, the chances would rise significantly. Many methods for exterminating termites, ants, cockroaches, or mosquitoes used that exact approach.
But that would take time—more than the short term could provide. Until then, he would capture and imprison the Terror Lord.
Ron made his decision. Without drawing attention, he took food from Sumas's space—dishes prepared by Erina—and began eating as the fight continued. Natsu and Sasuke handled most of the combat; Killer Queen was in cooldown after using the Sheer Heart Attack Bomb.
The Terror Lord's expression darkened. "Eating in the middle of a fight with me? Do you look down on me that much? Or are you trying to replenish your aura? Is that all you have left? Is this the extent of your strength? And you dare to take on this commission?"
Replenishing aura was part of Ron's aim, but more importantly, he let scraps of the high-grade food drop to the ground as if by accident. Earlier, he had noticed something—individually, golden cockroaches didn't have the intelligence the Terror Lord displayed.
The battle had cost him many, and those needed to replenish their energy. When restrained by Nina and the others, the cockroaches would try to feed, and Ron had seen a few do so, hidden away in the corners.
So he devised a plan: drop small bits of rich, energy-packed food onto the ground. But mixed into it was no poison—just alcohol. The alcohol might do nothing to the Terror Lord as a whole, but Ron suspected it would slow the individual cockroaches. Once they were sluggish, capturing them would be much easier, and he could imprison them in the Library Prison. There, he'd have all the time he needed to research a way to kill the Terror Lord completely.
One more thing piqued Ron's curiosity. If the Terror Lord split his body into two separate swarms that could never reunite, and each developed independently, once both gathered enough numbers and energy to form humanoid bodies, which one would be the real Terror Lord? Or would the existence of one prevent the other from ever forming?
One golden cockroach quietly detached from the Terror Lord's body, scuttling toward a piece of food on the ground—a scrap of meat.
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