Richard and Burrows broke apart, fists stinging from their clash. Dust hung in the derelict factory, its rusted beams creaking from the fight's impact. Richard steadied his footing, ignoring his wound's ache. Burrows eyed him, catching the solid steps—no hesitation, no stumble. His smirk faded, replaced by a hard stare.
"You're holding up," Burrows said, voice low. "Not bad for a kid."
Richard didn't bite, keeping his eyes locked. He knew Burrows had the edge—years of Nen fights, more aura to burn. But Richard had Crazy Sonata, and he wasn't out of tricks.
Burrows cracked his knuckles, aura flaring.
"Let's see how long you last." His plan was clear—wear Richard down, drain his aura, then end it. Emitters like him could outlast most, hurling aura without breaking a sweat.
Richard braced as Burrows charged. "Ten," he muttered, wrapping aura tight to take the hit. Their fists met—bang bang bang—each blow shaking the factory's weak walls. A chunk of concrete fell nearby, smashing to bits. The fight was tearing the place apart.
Minutes dragged. Both slowed, breaths heavy. Richard felt his aura thinning, like a tank running low.
Burrows noticed, grinning faintly. "Getting tired, Vellucci? No aura, no fight."
"Keep talking," Richard shot back, voice dry. He wasn't Vellucci, but correcting Burrows wasn't worth the breath. He'd spotted a weakness—Burrows was cocky, assuming Richard was green. That was something to use.
Burrows lunged, fist glowing with aura. "Gyo!" he barked, focusing energy to his hand for a crushing hit.
"This ends you!"
Richard's face twitched—panic, or so it seemed. Burrows' grin widened, sensing victory. But Richard's hand moved, aura sparking where he'd hidden it, coiled tight under Zetsu. He'd played weak, saving this for now.
Richard blocked Burrows' punch, aura clashing with a dull thud. His other hand swung, fist wrapped in a second hidden aura burst, aimed at Burrows' gut. Burrows had poured his aura into his attack, leaving his body open—too thin to stop a clean hit.
"You hid aura?" Burrows snapped, eyes wide. He reacted fast, pulling aura to his stomach—another Gyo—just in time. Richard's fist slammed into a rushed shield, not the soft target he'd hoped. The hit rocked Burrows, but he stayed up, snarling.
"Nice try," Burrows said, voice tight. His free hand shot out, grabbing Richard's throat. "But I'm not some rookie. You're done."
Richard's air cut short, Burrows' grip like iron. "Should've stayed down, kid. Now you join your family—underground."
The taunt landed flat—Richard wasn't tied to Vellucci's ghosts. His hand, still free, loosened its fist. The clarinet appeared, glinting in the dim light. Burrows blinked, too late. Richard swung it hard, aiming for the neck—not to play, but to break.
Crack! The clarinet smashed into Burrows' throat, aura-charged for extra bite. Bones snapped, blood vessels bursting under skin. Burrows choked, grip faltering, eyes bulging.
Richard yanked free, stepping back. Burrows clutched his neck, blood seeping through his fingers, aura fading fast. Richard raised the clarinet to his lips and played. Crazy Sonata's notes hit, sharp and final.
Burrows staggered, face twisting. His aura was shot—too weak to fight the madness. Red clouded his eyes, and he clawed at his own throat, tearing skin. Blood sprayed, staining the factory floor. He dropped, still.
Richard stopped playing, checking Burrows' body. No pulse, no aura. Dead.
He turned to leave, clarinet tucked away, when a voice hissed behind him. "Richard…"
Cold, bitter, dripping with hate. Richard spun, clarinet ready, but saw only Burrows' corpse, eyes blank.
A chill ran through him. "Post Mortem Nen?" he muttered, recalling Hunter x Hunter's rare Nen curse, born from a dying grudge. Something to worry about later.
He moved for the exit, steps quick. The factory was quiet now, but more trouble would find him soon enough