NenMaster
patreon
Chapter 21
🕑 Added 2024-11-26 22:25:13 +0000 UTCFranklin and Pakunoda exchanged curious glances, a flicker of intrigue passing through their eyes. Feitan, meanwhile, narrowed his gaze as he observed the exchange but said nothing. However, the subtle movements of his fingers betrayed the storm of thoughts brewing in his mind.
“Is that so? If you’re so confident, Morin…” Chrollo nodded slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Then I’d like to see what you’re capable of.” He proceeded to provide Morin with the location where Uvogin and Nobunaga were being held.
As Morin nodded and turned to leave, Feitan suddenly spoke, his voice low. “What if you fail? What happens if your actions alert the enemy?”
“If?” Morin turned his head slightly to look at Feitan, then broke into a smile. “For me, there’s no such thing as ‘if.’”
Uvogin and Nobunaga were imprisoned in the central area of Meteor City, inside the Elder’s residence in the northern district. It wasn’t far from the rendezvous point.
Morin quickened his pace slightly and soon reached the towering structure. Amid the rows of modest single-story houses, the Elder’s residence stood out conspicuously.
Looking at the large building in the distance, Morin rubbed his chin. “Uvogin and Nobunaga are both straightforward guys, but with Uvogin’s mix of brute force and occasional cunning, plus Nobunaga’s support, they shouldn’t have gotten into too much trouble.”
“If this were three days ago, it might’ve been harder to rescue them. But…” Morin glanced into his four-dimensional pocket at the two tools he’d drawn in the past two days.
“Looks like your luck’s finally turning.” With that, Morin disappeared into the streets.
The next time he appeared, he was standing directly in front of the Elder’s residence. At the entrance was a guard dressed in black, wearing sunglasses and scanning the surroundings vigilantly.
Morin walked straight toward the door as if the guard weren’t even there.
The guard immediately noticed Morin’s approach, but instead of reacting defensively or asking questions, he simply nodded slightly. “You’re here?”
“I’m here,” Morin replied.
Their tone and demeanor suggested a familiarity as if they were old friends or close acquaintances.
Passersby near the Elder’s residence exchanged puzzled looks at the scene.
“Who’s that kid? A friend of Luke’s?”
“Friend? The tone fits, but the age doesn’t. Maybe he’s… a relative?”
“That doesn’t make sense either. Luke’s a loner—where would a relative come from? Maybe a new bodyguard or assistant hired by the Elders? I heard there was some commotion here recently with two big guys causing trouble.”
“A kid as a bodyguard? Don’t be ridiculous. And it’s not like anyone died during the commotion, so why hire new guards?”
“Why not? I’ve heard that in the outside world, skill matters more than age. If you’re strong, no one cares how old you are!”
After murmuring a few more guesses, the onlookers shrugged off their curiosity and left, figuring the Elders always had their reasons.
To them, the interaction was a passing oddity, not worth lingering over.
Meanwhile, inside the residence, Morin was gently holding a peculiar green-glowing egg.
Item: Cuckoo Egg (a.k.a. Cuculus Egg)
Effect: A secret tool that allows the user to seamlessly blend into any group or household. While carrying the egg, others will instinctively see you as a member of their group.
This was one of the items Morin had drawn during his recent sign-ins—a palm-sized, emerald-green egg. Its effects were akin to overpowered tools like the Demon Passport (which let you accomplish anything) or the Universal Pass (which let you go anywhere), making it a truly remarkable artifact.
As Doraemon would say, it was a sly tool.
Of course, using it consumed nen, and the energy cost couldn’t be ignored. Fortunately, Morin’s prior restrictions and vows significantly reduced the consumption, allowing him to sustain its effects long enough to rescue Uvogin and Nobunaga.
With the Cuckoo Egg in hand, entering the Elder’s residence felt no different from walking into his own home.
Everyone Morin passed along the way greeted him with nods or friendly hellos, and he responded casually in return. This continued until he reached the underground cell where Uvogin and Nobunaga were held.
The prison was a damp, isolated space, dark and dirty, with a faint stench lingering in the air. The only light came from a dim, cheap oil lamp flickering weakly in the corner.
Uvogin sat slumped, his head drooping as he was bound tightly in iron chains. Nearby, Nobunaga leaned against the wall, similarly restrained.
“Uvogin, can’t you think before acting?” Nobunaga grumbled for what must’ve been the hundredth time. He was clearly exasperated at their predicament. Being reduced to pitiful prisoners was far from the outcome he had anticipated.
“Well, excuse me for not letting that bastard insult Morin and Machi!” Uvogin shot back, his defiant expression practically screaming, I’d do it all over again if I had to!
“You might be able to let those words slide, but I sure as hell can’t!”
