Xiang Nan read the name aloud.
Explore the Dark Continent, eh?
Indeed—across the whole multiverse, only by securing the mysterious powers that lie on the Dark Continent could one hope to stand up to other worlds.
That also means Mai really has set foot on the Dark Continent, just like Don Freecss.
To the players, that is almost unbelievable.
Under normal circumstances—not to mention these players—even the very strongest Hunters might spend a lifetime without qualifying to enter the Dark Continent.
Let alone come back alive.
The information Pigeon and Orban provided was therefore invaluable to Xiang Nan; it deepened his understanding of the Reincarnation Dimension.
He spent the entire day talking with them.
Although the two were hardly saints and plainly meant to exploit other players, from the standpoint of personal gain that was nothing unusual—this game is brutally competitive; better another dies than I, right?
"But because of the stunt you two pulled, there are even fewer players above Extinction 5 now. Among the roughly three-hundred survivors, most are probably rookies… That's dragged down the overall level of everyone who's made it into Hunter so far." Content originally comes from N()velFire.net
Xiang Nan laced his fingers, thinking.
"On the other hand," Pigeon countered, "rare players like us will get more resources from the system."
Resources in this world are limited: fewer people at the table means a bigger slice of cake for each of us.
"From what you've told me about the Reincarnation Dimension," Xiang Nan said, "even though we players fight and kill one another, we're still grasshoppers tied to the same rope. If we want to oppose other worlds, we have to rely on our collective strength."
"We can't worry about that now," Orban replied with a wry smile. "With our ability, we don't even know if we can pass the Extinction Games. Looking that far ahead is pointless."
Xiang Nan activated his Nen.
A pair of white gloves materialized.
He glanced at Orban. "Consultation over… surgery begins."
The gloves suddenly turned scarlet, as if soaked in blood—an expression of his Transmutation trait within his Conjurer-type Nen.
That's why he was sure that Kite, also a Conjurer, had Transmutation mixed into his own Nen makeup.
The white-glove ability lets him diagnose a target's current "condition."
But making that diagnosis is up to the "doctor" himself—and only after an "examination." In combat, that exam means he must force a suitable "state" onto the enemy so the ailment can take effect.
He makes the target "sick."
For example, in his fight with Machi he struck her chest and abdomen, disrupting her breathing and injuring her thorax—exactly the conditions for pneumothorax, so once the ability triggered, she was afflicted.
Orban's blindness was caused by blood from a cut on his brow seeping into his eyes during battle; Xiang Nan simply turned that into a disease, robbing him of sight.
His Nen, Hands of Love, is stepwise: consultation, then surgery. The white gloves signify consultation; only when that ends can they turn red and the surgical phase begin.
Naturally, there are limits:
First, the consultation carries risk, because the "exam" usually means close-quarters grappling.
Second, if he fails to "diagnose" while the gloves are white, they can't turn red—there's a time limit.
Third, the power has a weakness: the target can, in theory, use their own abilities to make him misdiagnose, though doing so follows certain rules most people could neither detect nor achieve.
Even so, Xiang Nan considers this setup the strongest effect he can safely handle.
He tore off Orban's bandages, ran a fingertip over the skin of Orban's arm, and spoke a single word.
Orban's eyes widened—he felt no pain at all, as though anesthetized. His entire body went numb, out of his control; only his mind stayed clear.
More astonishing, Xiang Nan wasn't using a scalpel. His finger merely brushed the skin and the flesh parted smoothly on its own.
Inside the wound he saw the splintered bones of Orban's hand. "Repair," he ordered.
Nen flowed from the glove like water into the marrow. The scalpel liquefied, transmuted into tiny steel plates that pressed against the cracks and knit them together.
Pigeon stood by, dumbfounded. As a high-level player himself, he could tell how overwhelmingly "tyrannical" this ability was.
"You're a doctor?" Pigeon stared at Xiang Nan, deep in thought.
Again Xiang Nan ignored him. The severed muscle fibers beneath Orban's skin wove together; the wound closed without even a scar, leaving only a faint white line that would be invisible unless examined closely.
He repeated the process on Orban's legs.
At last, with the words "Surgery complete," the conjured gloves vanished.
Hands in his pockets, Xiang Nan rose and turned to leave. "Given the current state of the player faction, we'll very likely have to form teams someday. If you kill off every high-level player, it won't matter if only two of us are left—we'll still have to run placement matches. More is better than less. My view differs from yours: once a player reaches Extinction 7 they can apply to form teams themselves, so we should leave some possibilities open for newcomers."
"We're all on the same boat—don't push things too far."
The numbness faded from Orban's body. He flexed cautiously; though stiff and still painful, he was a hundred times better than moments ago.
"I understand." Orban's eyes burned with sudden fervor. "Boss… could you fix my eyesight too?"
The way he addressed Xiang Nan had changed.
"Later," Xiang Nan replied, glancing at the old man. "One reminder: the reason you could join the Shadow troupe is almost certainly because you unlocked a plot point. But on the canonical timeline, assuming nothing diverges, even if Jed shows up in the future he'll be killed by Knov and the others—with the help of the protagonist group. Jed is the source of Malice Nen, and your ability comes from him. Once he dies… your power will vanish as well."
With that, he walked away.
Pigeon's face went pale at those words, but Orban grew excited: Xiang Nan had implied the problem was solvable.
"Boss… may we leave?"
Since Xiang Nan had healed Orban, they knew he meant them no harm. Pigeon leapt up and called out.
Having tasted defeat at Xiang Nan's hands, they were convinced—and sensed he genuinely wanted players to stick together. Still, they were nervous, uncertain what he planned next.
"Orban can go. You stay," Xiang Nan said without turning, eyes flicking back to Pigeon. "You're useful to me."
His smile was eerily pleasant.
It made the old man shiver involuntarily.
— Currently You can Read 120 Chapters Ahead of Others!