Pfft!

Xiang Nan gripped his dagger and, with the momentum of his swing, slashed at the Porcupine's neck.

Yet—just as he drew near—his movement came to an abrupt halt.

Several drops of blood spattered into the air, and pain shot through his hand.

Glancing sideways, Xiang Nan saw that much of his fore‑arm had been run clean through by the porcupine‑like quills that had suddenly erupted from beneath his opponent's clothes.

It seemed the man had given his own Nen special properties—sharper control and transformation, with a startling "armor‑breaking" effect. Even though Xiang Nan had raised his aura in defense first, he was still hurt.

"See? That's how it works. My Nen almost perfectly counters all close‑quarters tactics. As long as I spread my quills, you have no opening—sharp blades won't help you either," the Porcupine said with a smile.

"Your physique and Nen control are fine, but I can still react. Even if I can't track your attack line, the moment my quill barrier forms, your strike is meaningless."

"So… what will you do now?"

The Porcupine squinted his beady eyes at Xiang Nan.

If Xiang Nan could not injure him, then the Porcupine could strike at Xiang Nan at will. In such a passive position, Xiang Nan might well lose.

Surprise flickered across Xiang Nan's face.

He knew this Shadow Beast's ability, but he had not expected even a blade edge to fail against it. He had thought the man merely blocked ordinary physical attacks. Evidently, the Porcupine's Nen controlled each hair with such precision that virtually all physical damage was shut out—he had turned himself into a giant quill ball.

One of Xiang Nan's arms could no longer move, skewered and pinned fast by the countless needle‑like hairs. Stroking his chin with his free hand, and meeting the Porcupine's smug look, he reflected: Impressive… Your Nen is close to advanced master level. Even if I sensed an opening, I couldn't kill you in one blow; you'd drag the fight somewhere favorable.

"Your Nen looks ordinary but works remarkably well—that's the wonder of Nen. Take the two comrades you dodged a moment ago. The one who whistles has a simpler skill: she scatters the target's attention by sound, and—if I'm right—the more times you're exposed, the more sensitive you become, until it works as a mental cue even if you 'shut off' your hearing.

"What really surprised me was the 'Red Light, Green Light' guy. His Nen is a mechanism‑type: he turns Nen into rules, ignoring strength gaps. That's true depth. No wonder the Ten Dons' corps cultivate talent like that."

Xiang Nan never overlooked a detail on the field.

He kept tabs on every Nen user under the Porcupine's command. That "Red Light, Green Light" specialist had mimicked Xiang Nan's posture three times during earlier killing pauses—only then did he activate his ability. So a mechanism Nen had prerequisites.

It was Xiang Nan's first encounter with such a user—clearly a Specialist.

"Quit pretending you've won," the Porcupine said. "From the moment you moved, you were dead. Still, you face your fate calmly—I respect that."

Xiang Nan raised an eyebrow.

Unlike Uvogin, he could not unleash a sonic shockwave that bypassed the quills and knocked the Porcupine out cold. Uvogin's brute strength and aura reserves were on an entirely different level. Even bolstered by the Serpent's power, Xiang Nan—a Conjuror—could not rely on sound.

Pfft!

All at once, another sharp thrust streaked past the Porcupine's ear. Xiang Nan's other hand drove the blade straight into the black quill mass. A small splash of blood appeared.

The Porcupine chuckled. "I told you—useless. Any technique you try gets blocked. Forget your little dagger—even a needle can't slip through unless your speed outstrips my Nen reaction, and that's impossible."

Both of Xiang Nan's arms were now buried deep in the quills. He could not pull them free; they were injured, and he stood rooted to the spot.

"I expected some clever trick—turns out you're just stupid. You wasted a move," the Porcupine sneered.

"Have you heard of alopecia?" Xiang Nan suddenly asked with a smile.

"Huh?" The Porcupine blinked.

"Congenital alopecia means a person is born hairless," Xiang Nan explained mildly. "Your hair… is falling out."

The Porcupine was unconcerned. His opponent could break a few quills by pouring more aura into Ken, but he could regrow them instantly with Nen. No one could strip every hair from him. Fueled by Nen, each hair grew continually with terrifying hardness and flexibility.

Yet the next second, his casual smile froze.

Without warning, the steel‑needle quills across his skin all detached, raining to the ground beyond his control. The man in the trench coat calmly withdrew his hands.

"W‑what's happening?" the Porcupine blurted.

He tried to drive Nen to sprout new hair, but bizarrely, each fresh quill fell away the moment it emerged.

"Nen ability…" Panic tightened his chest. He stared at Xiang Nan in sudden understanding.

"Sorry," Xiang Nan said, lips curling. "It seems my Nen happens to counter yours."

The white gloves on his hands turned crimson.

Smack!

Before the Porcupine could react, the red glove tapped gently against his cheek—more a caress than a slap.

As Xiang Nan whispered, "General anesthetic," darkness flooded the Porcupine's vision. His eyelids sagged, beyond his control.

"Relax—I won't kill you right away. You're a fine specimen.

"Your body's untrained, yet your aura reserve is huge… And some of you Shadow Beasts, though human in form, look bizarre enough that I wonder—are you demi‑humans by birth, or made afterward?"

Just before consciousness fled, the Porcupine dimly heard the man's eager laugh.

Thud.

His whole body collapsed face‑down.

Xiang Nan bent, grabbed the collar with one hand, and dragged him slowly out of the forest.