Chapter 50: A Sword Through the Heart
Aoba never would have imagined that Riehlvelt would do this. One must know that outside the glass window was the sky from over two hundred floors up.
Falling from here would truly leave no complete corpse!
"When you truly have no way out, the sky will be your path."
Those words spoken by that man echoed in his ears.
Riehlvelt could only gamble. At this life-or-death moment, this inexplicable saying suddenly surfaced in his mind.
Gambling doesn't guarantee victory, but not gambling guarantees defeat.
Anyway, compared to having his heart dug out and dying, being smashed into pulp from the fall wasn't that unacceptable.
At this moment, Riehlvelt instead felt relieved.
At the critical moment, a spiked ball suddenly burst through the window from the 200th floor, flying towards Riehlvelt in the air. The iron chain quickly wrapped around him.
Riehlvelt only felt a tremendous force dragging him back towards Heavens Arena.
Crash――
The floor-to-ceiling windows on the front of the 200th floor shattered accordingly. Riehlvelt lay awkwardly in a pile of glass fragments, gasping heavily after narrowly escaping death.
Looking up, he saw a familiar figure appear before him.
"Truly unexpected that you'd have such courage." Mord chuckled lightly.
Riehlvelt had just been a casual move in his game, but unexpectedly proved useful.
"You can explain the remaining matters to the Heavens Arena staff. I have things to attend to, so I won't keep you company."
Before his words faded, a loud boom sounded as rubble came crashing down.
Under Riehlvelt's utterly shocked gaze, Mord directly used that oddly-shaped spiked ball to smash through the ceiling above him, quickly leaping upward.
...
Boom!
Heavens Arena, 230th floor.
Aoba was regretting how such a fine heart had flown away right before his eyes when suddenly, the floor beneath him exploded.
He hurriedly dodged as rubble flew everywhere. Through the dust and debris, he vaguely saw a dark figure.
"It's you?!"
As the dust settled, Aoba's pupils contracted slightly upon recognizing the newcomer, his voice low.
Mord had used the simplest and most brutal method to directly break into the 230th floor. While smashing through the floor, the tremendous impact force also destroyed many containers storing human organs in the room.
Instantly, a fishy smell filled the air, enough to make one retch.
Mord glanced around. Only someone abnormal like Aoba could live in such an environment and even relish it.
Mord looked up at Aoba, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned as he spoke: "Should I call you Aoba, or the Murderous Miracle Doctor Pierre Izzie?"
"Was Riehlvelt bait you set?" Aoba connected the dots from earlier, his expression gradually turning icy. "You were targeting me from the start."
Aoba's response was essentially admitting his identity.
"I was just testing casually. I never expected you'd take the bait so easily." Mord chuckled lightly.
Aoba's face darkened. If not for the constraints of time and situation, he would never have chosen to operate directly in Heavens Arena.
He was well aware of how high the risk of exposure was.
"I happen to need a heart. You're stronger and younger than that waste Riehlvelt. Since you've delivered yourself to my doorstep, you'll replace him."
No sooner had the words fallen than Aoba's white coat billowed backward, the two short blades in his hands shooting toward Mord.
He employed the advanced Nen technique "Shu"—using the Ten skill to wrap his own Nen around objects in contact with his body, thereby enhancing their properties.
The two short blades now enveloped in Aoba's Nen could easily slice through metal and stone.
"Pierce him, Gonryōmaru!"
The Zanpakutō in Mord's hand had long completed its release, transforming into a form resembling a rapier.
Thrust, diagonal slash, vertical chop, sweeping draw—the four most fundamental yet core movements of swordsmanship.
Gonryōmaru's form abandoned all other possibilities, retaining only the thrust!
It was precisely because of this that it could pierce through all things, advancing with unwavering determination.
Ssshh—
A sound akin to a mournful cry suddenly echoed through the air.
Gonryōmaru, wreathed in golden lightning, traced a golden afterimage through the air, directly piercing through the Nen enveloping Aoba's surgical blades!
Then through the blades themselves!
The rapier reflected the lingering sunset glow streaming in, seeming poised to pierce straight through Aoba's chest.
Caught completely off guard, Aoba's face paled as he could only retreat hastily.
The commotion Mord had caused earlier had already alerted other fighters above the 200th floor. About twenty to thirty fighters still remaining in Heavens Arena arrived just in time to witness this scene.
They stared in stunned disbelief—a newcomer who had just reached the 200th floor was actually forcing Aoba, a Floor Master, into retreat?
This wasn't realistic!
Yet what they saw before them left no room for doubt.
Aoba was fast, but the speed he had always prided himself on couldn't shake his opponent.
Forced to release more Nen, his figure almost transformed into multiple afterimages—this was his famous technique, Phantom Seven Kill.
Some spectators recognized Aoba's move, though what was originally a killing technique was now being used for desperate evasion.
Yet even having pushed himself this far, Aoba still couldn't escape that electrical glow!
Watching the lightning draw inexorably closer, Aoba cursed inwardly—if not for that wretched woman poisoning him with this strange toxin, would he have been reduced to such a state?
Though these past days he'd been hunting, using his superb medical skills and Nen abilities to attempt a complete detoxification through heart replacement.
But the poison clung like maggots to bone, utterly incurable.
Each heart replacement could only sustain him for a few days.
The stronger the person's heart, the longer it would last.
Yet even with a new heart, it could only alleviate the toxin, allowing him to wield at most seventy percent of his full strength.
In his prime, his two surgical blades were everyone's nightmare—the Murderous Miracle Doctor, a title that revealed his killing prowess even surpassed his medical skills.
But today he could only flee repeatedly, utterly disgraced.
"Lightning Thrust!"
The electrical flash passed through in an instant, the sword piercing his heart.
Aoba's surgical blades clattered to the ground, though he wasn't dead yet.
He felt a sudden coldness in his chest, a transparent hole now gaping in his left breast. He stared fixedly at Mord, his eyes bulging.
Mord said calmly, "Someone like you without a heart is better off dead."
He withdrew his rapier, the Shikai state gradually dissipating during the extraction, returning the Zanpakutō to its original form.
Black blood dripped from the tip of the blade.
Aoba collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, dead beyond any doubt.
Mord turned around and looked at the group of 200th-floor contestants who had come to watch. Many of them were so intimidated by his current aura that they couldn't even meet his eyes.
Some of them laughed nervously, signaling that they meant no harm.
"This guy is a wanted criminal—the Murderous Miracle Doctor, Pierre Izzie. His identity will be confirmed soon," Mord stated.
Just then, another anomaly occurred.
Mord suddenly sensed an unfamiliar aura of Nen emerging behind him.