The withered Heart Piercing Attack Tanks surged openly toward Machi and Nobunaga.
At the same time, Joey, ignoring Nen exhaustion, rapidly created a storm of moving Nen bullets across the space.
These weren't just to hide the tanks' approach; they were also decoys to mislead and probe,
and could lash out at Machi and Nobunaga without warning.
Joey himself remained in place.
But his Weather Beast hadn't stopped after triggering rain and lightning—
it began altering wind directions, the gales intensifying by the second.
"Putting distance is smart," Joey muttered, "but dodging isn't so simple."
His expectations for Killer Queen were high.
While he was actively developing all the abilities shown in JoJo, he also had his own ideas—
though most couldn't be implemented quickly.
For now, Joey focused much of his energy on Weather Report.
In his plans, Weather Report and Gold Experience were the ultimate defensive combo in the New World.
One gave early warning and environmental control,
the other ensured survival even when dismembered.
Killer Queen, though—that was his weapon.
But on a ship like this, facing other Nen users,
the combat environment didn't favor Killer Queen.
If enemies understood his ability and avoided contact,
then Weather Report alone wasn't enough to land a kill.
That didn't mean impossible—but it required time.
Like now.
The best way to stall for time?
Attack relentlessly, draw the enemy's attention,
and cloak what he was really preparing in the background.
Fortunately, neither En nor air-ripple detection had revealed a third Troupe member.
Otherwise, he'd already be figuring out how to escape this spider nest.
But Joey knew—among all this, there'd still be a real chance to inflict damage.
As the Heart Piercing Tanks pushed through Machi's threads,
Joey stood still, fully focused on sensing their position.
Around him, atmospheric pressure thickened—
not to restrain,
but to form cutting wind blades under the Weather Beast's command.
As the blades formed, Joey layered them with his aura—
enhancing their power and giving them the ability to slice Nen threads.
He'd already noticed in prior fights—
fire was ineffective against Machi's threads,
which were pure transmutation-based aura.
And in this sealed-off chamber where he was lowering the temperature,
fire would not only consume limited oxygen,
but also raise the temperature—
counterproductive, and slow to reverse.
Fighting for several minutes with held breath was feasible for both him and Machi.
But that time would be enough for them to realize the sealed nature of this space
and try to break out.
So—wind blades it was.
The Weather Beast swung its arms.
The sharpened gales tore toward every visible thread.
SNAP!
The snapping echoed around Joey—
not like cutting silk,
but like taut rubber bands recoiling.
Joey's brow lifted.
The threads didn't snap and fall toward Machi.
Instead, they whipped back toward him.
She had planned for the threads to snap!
Joey didn't call Killer Queen this time.
He dodged himself.
Though Killer Queen and the Weather Beast handled most tasks,
Joey had never slacked on physical training.
He'd advanced far beyond his time in the East Gorteau,
sparring with Gon—whose instincts rivaled beasts—
and trained under Kite, whose flamboyant combat was a storm in itself.
His aura-enhanced eyes caught every whipping thread.
His flexible body danced between them,
his movements like a butterfly threading a needle.
Even as he dodged, more threads and wind blades collided.
But Joey wasn't only focused on Machi anymore.
The constant battle music,
rising from the moment the clash began,
was starting to affect him.
It was a battle symphony—
a call to arms that stirred adrenaline.
But Joey wasn't so easily swayed.
The churning air around him distorted the sound.
Sometimes the music wouldn't reach.
Sometimes it came in warped, discordant tones,
impossible to decipher.
Still—he never underestimated Nobunaga.
Because gradually, he noticed something:
the threads gained a strange property under the music.
Even the ones that snapped back at him
seemed to hum with a faint emission aura.
Joey squinted.
This was a support-type Emission skill.
And though Nobunaga was a Conjurer,
his Emission was weak and coarse.
Like a cheap enchantment,
barely noticeable—yet present.
The snapped threads, even when dodged,
would fall to the ground after losing momentum.
Joey frowned.
Fall to the ground?
He looked again.
These threads weren't real—
they were Nen constructs, just like Hisoka's Bungee Gum.
And yet—
they didn't vanish after impact.
That wasn't normal.
Machi wasn't an Emitter.
She wouldn't waste aura keeping severed threads around.
To maintain them, she'd have to continually feed Nen into both ends.
Threads not completely severed might still be manipulable—
but these were clean cuts.
They should vanish.
And yet they didn't.
Something was wrong.
Joey also noticed:
Nobunaga's music seemed to affect everything—friend and foe.
His wind blades, too, remained on the ground after impact,
like embedded blades in the floor.
Ever since the music started,
the battlefield had been getting weirder.
Even the storm clouds overhead were solidifying.
Thunder strikes started carrying Nen traces.
Joey realized:
the more Nen he infused,
the slower things became corrupted by the music.
The wind blades—his least-invested constructs—
were the first polluted.
The stormclouds and lightning followed.
But the floating Nen bullets?
Still clean.
Can Conjurers do this? he wondered.
He didn't stop moving.
Even if he wasn't closing in on them,
he sensed that his Heart Piercing Tanks had reached their targets.
A thought came to him.
In response, the clouds overhead began to disperse.
Even when a few stayed unnaturally frozen,
he didn't care.
Instead, the storm winds howled louder,
like they meant to fill the entire space.
And right then—
the distorted music in his ears shifted.
Joey's lips curled.
Nobunaga had figured out his plan.
If the music could materialize manipulated aura…
Joey would flood the area with wind.
If Nobunaga tried to persist,
the resulting conjured storm would trap both Troupe members.
Even if Nobunaga controlled it—
he'd reveal more of his powers.
But for Joey, controlling wind was trivial.
He didn't care what the next tune would bring.
His hands rose, mimicking the Weather Beast.
"Wind isn't just for probing—
It's the prelude to heart-piercing death.
Now enjoy the art of explosions!"
Killer Queen had four ornaments on its legs,
plus one on the right hand and each shoulder.
Joey launched seven Heart Piercing Tanks—
two at Machi,
five at Nobunaga.
Machi's powers were almost fully mapped—
pure Transmutation.
As for how she'd survived the First Bomb earlier,
Joey had a hunch.
If he could make clones—
why couldn't she?
Especially after reading so many manga,
Joey remembered how Doflamingo from One Piece, also a string-user,
could make string clones.
Machi must've made a puppet-like clone
to absorb the First Bomb.
If it only needed to look convincing and act on strings—
not that hard.
As for how she vanished from his En?
Joey guessed that too.
Machi was a master of surgical-level precision.
She'd once reattached Hisoka's arms, nerves and all.
Joey, who'd dissected Chimera Ants by the hundreds,
understood how hard that was.
He couldn't do it himself.
With that level of fine control,
it was possible to hide from En.
After all, Joey's En wasn't like the Chimera Ant King's,
which mapped every tiny detail.
His En had two detection methods:
one for aura,
which Zetsu could counter.
And one for air disturbance.
Even in Zetsu, if you breathed, he'd detect it.
But he hadn't sensed Machi at all.
Which meant—
she'd used Zetsu and also held her breath.
Now that Joey had all that figured out,
he switched to his atmospheric sonar,
found both targets,
and created the perfect ambush.
The tanks' roar was muted.
Their light was bent.
Their movement hidden among the floating Nen bullets.
Even as two tanks were revealed,
the remaining five had already reached their marks.
They didn't hesitate.
BOOM!
The tanks screamed toward the two.
Simultaneously, the Nen bullets' trajectories bent sharply toward their position.
Machi and Nobunaga were close together.
The moment the Nen bullets moved—
both reacted at once.
But just as they moved—
the wind howled again.
It formed two massive hands,
grabbing them out of midair.
Nobunaga's music changed abruptly.
The wind through his body cavities
turned from harmony to screeching static.
His face twisted.
Even though he felt Machi's thread tugging at him—
something felt wrong.
He tried to control his body,
to realign the holes for a better tone.
But the storm was too chaotic.
He couldn't make the music he wanted.
Panic flashed in his eyes.
Machi's threads pulled—
but the wind-hands squeezed too.
Nobunaga's body froze for an instant.
And in that instant,
he felt something strike his waist.
His bandages moved to intercept—
But before they reached it,
a grotesque skull-faced tank filled his view.
It shouted with glee—
and detonated in his face.
Boom!
No time to breathe.
Another impact hit him—
not once, but three times at once.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
(End of Chapter)