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Chapter 104
🕑 Added 2024-12-09 16:00:12 +0000 UTCWith the intelligence and wisdom of Shalnark, he should know what to do.
As for Kurotopi's ability, it just happens to create a wonderful synergy when paired with Omokage's puppet ability.
In this way, it can be said that Chrollo’s arrangements are meticulous and well thought out.
The remaining Machi and Pakunoda naturally stayed by Morin’s side.
Moreover, their abilities are indeed quite unique and require Morin's protection.
Machi’s ability is a Transmutation-type called [Nen Stitching].
She can transmute her aura into thin, thread-like strands to attack or strangle enemies.
These "Nen Threads" can also be used to stitch wounds for healing, fix dislocated joints, create loops to restrain enemies, or bind them. As such, she excels at capturing enemies alive. The threads can also be attached to a target for tracking purposes.
The strength of the thread is inversely proportional to its length; the longer it is, the more easily it breaks.
What Chrollo values most about this [Nen Stitching] ability is its ability to stitch blood vessels, bones, nerves, and muscles together at an extremely fast speed with 100% precision.
In other words, it has an incredibly powerful healing effect when dealing with external injuries.
Pakunoda's ability, which she has refined over time, is called [Memory Explorer].
By simply touching someone, she can extract their memories and materialize them as bullets. These memory bullets can then be shot into a companion's head to share the memories.
If the same method is used to shoot the extracted memory back into the original person, it causes them to lose their memories and regress mentally to a blank state, like a newborn.
The maximum number of memory bullets she can use at once is six.
Because the memory bullets, like regular bullets, require absolute trust from the target, the ability only works under such conditions.
Before extracting memories, Pakunoda asks a question. The moment she touches the person, she can see the hidden memories they are trying to conceal.
Asking a question helps her access the deepest memories, and even if the target thinks about something unrelated, it does not interfere with the memory reading process.
Through this ability, Pakunoda can easily influence a target's emotions and break their resolve.
This ability is incredibly useful in interrogations and investigations, making her an indispensable member of the troupe, as noted by Shalnark.
However, since Morin obtained the [Truth Stickers], much of the effectiveness of Pakunoda’s ability has been rendered redundant.
Now, only the memory transmission aspect of the [Memory Bullets] remains effective.
It can be said that one of Morin's casual tools has achieved effects similar to those of a nen ability, but with a different approach.
At this moment, however, Morin isn’t particularly happy. He is trying to keep his presence as low as possible.
He doesn’t want to be inadvertently drawn into Machi and Pakunoda’s affairs at some random moment.
After Chrollo finalized the plan, everyone split up to carry out their respective tasks.
Chrollo led the main assault team to raid the royal palace’s treasure vault directly.
Bonolenov and Franklin followed closely behind.
Shalnark’s trio observed the royal family’s reactions to the assault, analyzing their actions and adapting accordingly.
Morin and his group were tasked with using his tools to carry out various actions based on Shalnark’s judgments. These could include retreating, advancing, or even casually dealing with the old queen and sending her to the heavens.
Morin did not need to participate in the main battles.
As Chrollo put it, using Morin’s tools for direct attacks would be a waste.
“Your tools should be used for something greater.”
It was precisely this statement from Chrollo that left Morin in his current, somewhat awkward position.
Fortunately, Machi and Pakunoda knew their limits.
Since this was the troupe’s first official group mission, they wouldn’t act too recklessly.
Well, the extent of their restraint remains to be seen.
As the evening lights came on, the bustling streets were filled with banners and colorful lanterns hanging everywhere.
The sounds of trumpets and drums filled the air, and the atmosphere was steeped in celebration.
“What a pitiful group of people~,” Machi remarked coldly as she observed the scene.
Pakunoda, standing beside her, nodded slightly, uncharacteristically silent.
To people from Meteor City like them, the joyous scene before them was a stark contrast to the tragedy about to unfold.
They seemed out of place in this festive world, adding a touch of melancholy to the lively atmosphere.
The three of them walked slowly along the main road. The closer they got to the palace and the nobles’ residential areas, the quieter the festive noise became.
The joys of different classes—nobles and commoners—were entirely distinct.
At this moment, with his superhuman dynamic perception, Morin could almost deduce that the royal banquet in the palace was likely about to begin.
He had lent his spy devices to Shalnark to monitor various movements and help Chrollo plan the optimal route for their attack.
“Prosperity and ruin, perhaps all in a single night~”
Looking at the brightly lit and opulent palace, one could imagine the high society within laughing and chatting, exchanging drinks.
Hidden in the shadows, Morin shook his head slightly.
“Faster, faster~!”
Suddenly, there was a faint rustling sound near the base of the wall, accompanied by hushed voices urging each other.
“You clumsy fools! If you ruin the duke’s plans at the banquet and disrupt the noble guests, you’ll face the consequences from the lords!”
"At the very least, I should chop off one or two of your fingers to teach you a proper lesson!"
The muffled cursing carried a tone of impatience and irritation.
From the sound of it, it was clear they were up to something shady.
Initially, Morin had no interest in such matters.
However, as the tirade continued, there was a nuance in the words that caught his attention.
"Is it something meant to liven up the banquet?"
A guess formed in Morin's mind.
His expression gradually calmed.
"You two stay here and don't wander off. I'll go check it out."
Without turning back, he instructed Machi and Pakunoda, leaving them with a view of his retreating figure.
Before they could respond, he vanished into the shadows.
"Hmm?"
Machi frowned slightly as she watched his back.
It wasn't Morin's somewhat unusual behavior that concerned her, nor was she worried about his safety.
In the entire Phantom Troupe, if there was one person no one needed to worry about, it was Morin. If something or someone could defeat him, the Troupe might as well consider themselves doomed.
What annoyed Machi was the subtle feeling that Morin might have just taken advantage of her.
But heaven knows, Morin had no intention of "playing dad" for Machi.
He'd just spoken offhandedly.
Following the sound of the grumbling and cursing, Morin quickly located the source.
It was a rotund man whose layers of fat formed mountainous rolls across his body.
Every time he shouted angrily, his flesh jiggled, creating a display that was as comical as it was commanding.
"Hurry up! Move it!"
The man growled in a lowered voice, urging others to work faster.
"Hurry up for what?"
A voice questioned from behind him.
"To get these treasures to the palace, of course! The nobles are waiting for them!"
The fat man answered instinctively before realizing something was off.
He started to turn around, but before he could, a hand clamped around his neck, lifting him like a chick.
"I ask, you answer."
Morin turned the terrified man’s face to meet his gaze, his small, beady eyes locking with Morin's calm but icy stare.
The others who were helping the fat man froze in shock at the sudden intrusion.
But it didn’t take long for them to react.
The group of five or six workers, their eyes darting nervously, began looking for a way to escape.
After all, they were engaging in illicit activities. Instead of calling for help, their first instinct was to flee.
"Anyone who tries to run will lose their head first."
Morin’s voice was calm but carried an undeniable authority.
It was a promise he fully intended to keep.
The group froze on the spot, not daring to move an inch.
Not just because of the threat, but also due to the ominous aura of Nen that Morin released. It pinned them where they stood, rendering them unable to act.
"Ask whatever you want. As long as I know, I'll tell you everything!"
The leader, trembling from head to toe, stammered out his compliance.
Though terrified, he was somewhat braver than expected for someone tasked with shady dealings.
Even under the oppressive aura, he managed to speak clearly.
"There's no need for that."
Morin didn’t give him a chance to explain. With a flick of his wrist, he slapped a "Truth Sticker" onto the man's face.
"What’s in those bags on the cart?"
Morin pointed to the pushcart in front of the group, laden with several large sacks.
The fat man's face twitched, clearly reluctant to answer.
But under the influence of the Truth Sticker, he had no choice but to speak.
"It’s that white powder… the kind that makes people feel euphoric and keeps them coming back for more."
After hearing the confession, Morin fell silent for a moment.
He exhaled lightly, his breath brushing past the fat man’s increasingly fearful gaze.
"Just as I thought."
He continued his questioning. "Who ordered this? Where did you get the supply? And what’s the purpose?"
The three consecutive questions made the fat man tremble even more violently.
Though reluctant, the power of the Truth Sticker forced him to reveal everything in a trembling voice.
"I see."
After learning everything, Morin nodded. "To thank you for your honesty, I’ll make your end less painful."
Before the fat man could react, Morin grabbed his neck with one hand.
With a crisp "crack," his neck twisted 180 degrees, and his eyes lost their light.
"Your turn."
Morin peeled the Truth Sticker off the leader’s face and looked at the other five or six workers.
Their leader’s death had shattered their courage.
If they hadn’t been paralyzed with fear, they would have dropped to their knees, begging for their lives.
"If you were unaware of the contents of these bags, I might have spared you."
Seeing their pleading eyes, Morin spoke slowly.
"But you not only knew, you willingly participated. So..." He shrugged. "Why am I even explaining this to you?"
Morin chuckled bitterly and shook his head.
"People like you don’t deserve to live."
With that, the crisp sound of snapping bones echoed through the night.
Beneath the high-hanging moon, Morin stood amidst a pile of corpses. He raised his head and gazed toward the brightly lit palace in the distance.
"So this is the so-called royalty and nobility…"
He murmured, striding toward a hidden side door used for transporting the contraband.
Behind him, the lifeless bodies lay sprawled, necks twisted at unnatural angles.
The cart filled with sacks of white powder was now under his control.
The moon tonight was particularly bright, as if determined to illuminate every shadow it usually couldn’t reach.
In the grand central hall of the palace, the banquet was in full swing.
The venue was filled with distinguished guests, their faces adorned with elegant, practiced smiles that exuded sophistication.
The dinner was a buffet-style affair, with each guest holding a glass of champagne or wine as they mingled, seeking out their preferred conversational partners.
This event was a display of status and power, a testament to the refined tastes and high societal standing of those present.
Most of the attendees were members of old, prestigious noble families or high-ranking officials from other nations.
Even the least notable among them were among the wealthiest individuals in the world.
They had all gathered to celebrate the 90th birthday of the queen.
After making a brief appearance to express her gratitude, the elderly queen, supported by her two sons, retired to her chambers. At her advanced age, any misstep could easily turn this joyous occasion into a tragic one.
The gathering of so many influential figures also presented opportunities for significant outcomes.
For instance, a single conversation could lead to multi-million or even billion-jenni deals.
Or perhaps a chance meeting could spark an alliance between two prominent families through marriage.
Such a rare assembly of high society offered immense possibilities, and many hoped to gain something from the event.
However, the seventh prince of the Kakin Empire, Luzluth Hui Guo Rou, representing his father Nasubi, found no interest in the social networking.
Instead, he felt only boredom, disgust, and nausea.
