Hunter X Hunter: I Got Stronger After I Died

A Nen user's combat ability depends on various factors.

If their total manifested and latent aura represents the hardware, then a complete and well-thought-out Nen strategy is the software.

Both are indispensable.

Typically, enhancing one's aura capacity—the "hardware"—requires time and effort, with no shortcut to success.

But for Moro, who had died and returned to life, this was the one thing he didn't have to worry about.

Otherwise, he would have simply given up and enjoyed his final year of life.

Now that he had a chance to change his fate, he was determined to give it everything he had.

He trained again and again—

Sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing.

When the strengthened Shooting Star projectiles hit him, the defensive measures he set up prevented bleeding or bruising, but the pain was unavoidable.

But if this was the path he had to take to reach his goal, Moro didn't hesitate. He kept stepping forward with unwavering resolve.

Moro only stopped when he was utterly exhausted, collapsing onto the ground to rest.

As he lay there, he began thinking about his next steps.

He had used his knowledge of valuable finds to gather enough start-up capital and made a small fortune from it. Then, he used that money to intercept the deal for the katana Senro, turning a small profit into 8 billion Jenny.

Since then, he had continued using that money to secure rare treasures he remembered from his past life.

The easy-to-sell items had been sold quickly, even at slightly lower profits, to avoid delays.

The harder-to-sell items were stored in a secure bank vault after paying a hefty storage fee.

After all this, excluding the treasures stored in the vault, Moro now had 36 billion Jenny in liquid funds.

All of this had taken him less than a month.

If he were willing to slow down, Moro could have focused on the Yorknew City auction two months later.

He could have amassed a vast collection of rare finds and then sold them all at the auction in September for a fortune in the hundreds of billions.

But Moro dismissed that idea.

Money was important, of course.

But for him, having "enough" was sufficient.

His true goal was to become stronger.

Making money through collecting antiques and treasures was just a means to recharge the Wheel of Time.

Moro raised his right hand and looked at the wheel mark on the back.

Despite absorbing the aura from 12 Nen-infused objects recently, the energy bar had only reached about 8%.

The energy provided by those 12 items was still less than the amount he got from Senro alone.

This result made Moro realize that charging the second ring of the wheel was much harder than the first.

Senro had contributed 4% of the charge at once simply because its Nen aura was exceptionally strong.

"There's no point in forcing it…"

Moro muttered, lowering his hand and closing his eyes to rest.

Half an hour later—

Moro had recovered most of his energy, stood up, and tidied himself. He put on a hat, sunglasses, and a mask.

Once he was fully disguised, Moro left the private training field and returned to downtown Yorknew City under the cover of night.

When he sold Senro, the late broker had given him a business card for a contact in the information network.

Moro had already solved his identity issue, and all the money he earned afterward had been properly taxed.

With legitimate funds and a valid identity, transactions that required large sums of money—such as purchasing information—would be much simpler and cause fewer problems.

Following the number on the card, Moro contacted a broker named Argor.

The phone rang, and before Moro could speak, a mechanical, synthesized voice came through:

"164 Old Town Street."

The call ended immediately after.

Moro wasn't surprised. He put his phone away and headed toward the address provided by the robotic voice.

Old Town Street was located at the edge of Yorknew City.

Compared to the bustling city center, the contrast was striking—it was like comparing wealth and poverty.

Most people living on Old Town Street were struggling on the fringes of society.

Alcoholics, gamblers, and even addicts were common sights.

As a result, the environment was dirty and cramped.

When you looked up, all you could see was the sky sliced into fragments by a tangle of electrical wires.

When you looked down, the ground was covered with dirty water and garbage.

As Moro made his way through Old Town Street, the place reminded him of a scene from a movie he had watched before his reincarnation—Kowloon Walled City.

The resemblance was uncanny.

Splash.

Moro stepped through a puddle of filthy water and shook off his wandering thoughts. He navigated through the narrow alleyways, taking some time before finally finding 164.

He stood in front of the rusted iron door. Before he could knock, he heard a click—the door opened inward on its own.

Glancing at the small button-like device near the lightbulb overhead, Moro wasn't surprised. He stepped inside.

The entrance led to a straight corridor about five meters long.

At the end of the corridor was a door covered with a curtain.

Moro lifted the curtain and stepped into a dimly lit room illuminated by red low-wattage bulbs.

There was no standard furniture—only a row of computers and a table with a single chair.

Sitting cross-legged in the chair was someone wearing a hoodie. With their back to the entrance, Moro couldn't immediately tell if they were male or female.

"You're Argor?"

Moro asked as he observed the figure sitting in the chair.

Creak.

The chair swiveled around.

Moro saw a woman with dark circles under her eyes and unkempt, greasy hair spilling out from under her hood.

"Yeah, that's me."

Argor leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she scrutinized Moro. Her right hand reached under her hood, scratching her scalp.

"You brought enough money, right?"

Her first question wasn't about what information Moro wanted but whether he had the cash.

Moro nodded.

Seeing his response, Argor got straight to the point. "What intel are you looking for?"

"I want long-term tracking information on this person."

Moro pulled a folded, hand-drawn picture of Feitan from his pocket and unfolded it for Argor to see.

"Hmm…"

Argor's eyes scanned the picture, and she immediately shook her head. "Sorry, I'm not taking this job."

"That's fine. We can discuss it."

Moro remained calm.

If Argor hadn't recognized the picture of Feitan, Moro would've turned around and left immediately without wasting another second.

But since she recognized him instantly, Moro was willing to pay more.

Argor frowned, took her hand away from her hood, and flicked away a bit of dandruff stuck under her fingernails. "I said I'm not taking the job."

"I'll pay more."

Moro's tone was composed.

Argor shook her head again.

Moro raised his hand, showing two fingers. "20 billion Jenny upfront, with additional payments later."

"…Deal!"

Argor's demeanor shifted instantly, and she nodded seriously. "It's not about the money—I'm just moved by your sincerity."

"I can see that," Moro replied with a faint smile.

Argor leaned forward. "I'll take the job, but I should warn you... Everyone who's tried to track the Phantom Troupe has died horribly."

"Thanks for the warning, but that's unrelated to the deal."

"Alright, transfer the money."

"Okay."

A moment later, Moro transferred the 20 billion.

Argor confirmed the payment and nodded in satisfaction. Then, she immediately started delivering on the value of the information.

"Last Monday, at 8:06 p.m., someone within a 'restricted network' posted a bounty targeting a member of the Phantom Troupe. If you're interested in this lead, I can follow up on it."

"Hmm?"

Moro's eyes widened slightly.

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Powerstones?

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