The silence in the room was oppressive, an almost physical force that pinned Hisoka in place. Then, without warning, Haruto unleashed his Nen. The sheer force of his aura filled the room, as wild and untamed as the raging ocean during a storm. Its intensity, its potency, was suffocating.
The Nen exploded into the room, a torrent of energy that was almost visible to the naked eye. Its color was like a stormy sea, swirling with shades of dark blue and electric green, flashing with a terrifying brilliance. The sound was a low, constant roar, reminiscent of thunder or the growl of a predatory beast. The air vibrated with its power, pulsating in waves that could be felt in the very bones. It wasn't merely an expression of strength; it was a symphony of dominance, a melody of unbridled superiority.
Hisoka staggered, his knees buckling under the pressure. His composure shattered, the usual cocky grin was wiped from his face, replaced with an expression of utter shock. He fell onto his knees, hands clutching the floor as if it was the only thing tethering him to reality. His face contorted, his body shivered, as if he was being crushed by a colossal weight.
Haruto's eyes were cold, his grin even colder. He stood there, watching as Hisoka struggled to maintain his consciousness. His aura was a roaring beast, a wild force of nature, pushing everything away, exerting his dominance over the room. It wasn't simply an exhibition of his Nen; it was an assertion of his superiority, a manifestation of his King-like aura.
The wild aura gradually receded, and with it, the crushing pressure. Hisoka gasped for breath, each gulp of air felt like a gulp of life. He looked up at Haruto, his gaze filled with a mix of fear and newfound respect. Haruto simply smirked, his eyes reflecting the satisfaction of a lion watching its prey crumble before him.
Hisoka's mind was a whirlpool, consumed by the overwhelming force of Haruto's Nen. 'How?' he wondered, 'How could anyone wield such power, such control?' The reality of Haruto's supremacy was crashing down on him, forcing him to confront a truth he had avoided. He had always sought thrill, always sought the next challenge, but now he found himself in the presence of a being far beyond his comprehension. Fear and respect mingled with a gnawing realization that he had underestimated the King, and the consequences were devastating.
"Remember this, Hisoka Mallow," Haruto spoke, his voice smooth yet carrying a threatening undertone. "You are the one who challenged me, and it is I who have defeated you without even lifting a finger."
Hisoka swallowed, his throat dry, his heart still pounding from the overwhelming experience. He attempted to respond, but words seemed to have abandoned him in the face of Haruto's overwhelming power.
Hisoka's silent and the stillness of the room was deafening. Haruto's gaze fell upon the defeated man, his words cutting through the oppressive silence like a knife.
"Hisoka Mallow, allow me to clear your misconceptions." Haruto began, his voice echoing through the stillness, clear and commanding.
Hisoka, still on his knees, managed to meet Haruto's gaze. His eyes held a mixture of fear, shock, and intrigue, but above all, they were filled with curiosity.
"Firstly," Haruto began, "you made a classic error. You assumed that I need to prove my superiority. That, in itself, implies that there is a doubt about it." His words were measured, his tone as cold as his icy gaze. "There isn't any. I am superior. As simple as that."
Hisoka shifted under Haruto's gaze, his body still shaking from the overwhelming force of his Nen. Yet, he was listening, his eyes focused on Haruto as if he were trying to absorb every word.
"You thought, in your misplaced arrogance, that challenging me would add excitement to your life, that defeating me would somehow elevate you," Haruto continued, his tone edging towards mockery. "In truth, you don't excite me, Hisoka. You don't pose a challenge, you simply exist."
Hisoka winced at Haruto's words. The cold indifference in Haruto's voice was a blow more painful than the weight of his aura.
"You see, Hisoka," Haruto said, his gaze drilling into Hisoka. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone. I don't need to hide, or scheme, or pretend. I don't need to step out of my comfort zone to be what I already am – superior."
Hisoka swallowed, the dryness in his throat making it painful. He was quiet, his confusion gradually giving way to understanding.
"Finally, let me dispel your misguided belief that my refusal to fight you is a sign of cowardice," Haruto continued, his eyes gleaming with a savage amusement. "Cowardice, Hisoka, is the fear of acknowledging one's inferiority. I have nothing to fear, because I am not inferior."
The silence hung heavy in the room once again, punctuated only by Hisoka's labored breaths. Haruto's words, sharp and unyielding, were echoing in the room, painting a stark picture of his confidence, his superiority.
Haruto walked over to Hisoka, his footsteps echoing ominously. He crouched down, bringing himself to Hisoka's level, his gaze piercing into Hisoka's wide eyes. His voice, when he spoke again, was a low whisper, meant only for Hisoka to hear.
"You may have amused me, Hisoka, but remember this," he warned, "I am not a toy for you to play with. I am a King, the embodiment of superiority."
Hisoka's gaze fell to the floor, his cocky grin replaced by a look of defeated acknowledgment. Haruto's words had struck a chord, forcing him to reevaluate his earlier presumptions about the King.
Haruto stood up, his gaze once again surveying the room, his aura radiating calm dominance. He had made his point. He had no need to prove his superiority. He was, as he had always been, simply superior.
Hisoka remained on his knees, the enormity of what had transpired still sinking in. His eyes were downcast, but the spark of intrigue was still there, now mixed with a newfound respect for the King. The room fell silent again, the echo of Haruto's words still lingering.
As the echoes of Haruto's words died away, the room settled into a heavy silence, filled only with the lingering resonance of his power. It was as if the room itself had bowed to the King, acknowledging his rightful place at the top of all existence. Hisoka, once the arrogant challenger, now a subdued subject in the kingdom of a true sovereign. The metaphorical crown on Haruto's head glinted with an unseen brilliance, casting a shadow that reached far beyond the room's confines. The King had spoken, and his words were law. His superiority was not a thing to be questioned. It was a fact, as irrefutable as his dominion over the Kingdom. He was the King, and all else were his subjects. Simple as that.
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