NenMaster
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Chapter 18
🕑 Added 2024-11-26 22:23:40 +0000 UTCFor the first time, Morin found himself walking through the streets of Meteor City.
With a population of approximately 8 million—peaking at 15 million at its height—Meteor City was comparable to a small nation.
The city’s aerial view resembled a giant cross, with four broad, straight main streets dividing it into four distinct regions. Each region was overseen by one of the Elder Council’s members, who collectively governed the city. Despite having factions, there was little internal conflict among them.
Machi’s home was tucked away in a remote corner of the northwest quadrant.
It was only a few minutes’ walk from the iron wall that separated the city from the sprawling garbage heaps outside. From the rooftop of Machi’s house, someone with keen eyesight could even make out the towering mounds of trash. If they were lucky, they might spot the trucks that occasionally arrived to dump more garbage.
The poor location ensured no one fought over the space, allowing 11-year-old Machi to live there alone without issue.
Morin walked alongside Machi toward their meeting point with Chrollo.
The streets were crowded with people moving to and from. Most passersby glanced at Machi and Morin with indifference, embodying Meteor City’s typical “mind your own business” attitude.
A smaller group, however, reacted differently upon noticing Morin.
Some froze momentarily before flashing a knowing smile or whistling playfully. Others weren’t as subtle, openly looking at him with disdain and contempt.
A few even spat on the ground near him, though they didn’t escalate beyond that.
“Looks like I’ve been misunderstood,” Morin muttered with a helpless shrug.
The expressions on their faces were blatant—practically screaming “kept man.”
“Me? A kept man? Seriously?” Morin thought, shaking his head. He recalled the day Machi brought him back to Meteor City, an event many had witnessed.
Since then, Morin had rarely left the house, inadvertently giving the gossip-loving residents some entertainment in their otherwise mundane lives.
Still, labeling him as some kind of freeloader was too much.
“Do I look like someone who can’t fend for himself and lives off others?” he mused, stealing a glance at Machi.
“If anything, I’m the one doing the feeding! Can’t they see how much healthier Machi looks after staying with me? She’s practically glowing!”
Despite his internal grumbling, Morin couldn’t entirely fault the Meteor City locals.
Self-sufficiency was the backbone of survival in Meteor City.
From the moment someone was abandoned there, the harsh environment instilled the principle of earning one’s keep. Even infants born with disabilities found ways to survive as they grew. For able-bodied individuals, laziness was never an acceptable excuse.
In a place where self-reliance was sacred, being seen as a dependent, like Morin, naturally drew scorn.
“If they were the hotheaded type, I’d probably have a fight on my hands right now,” Morin thought wryly.
Though Morin wasn’t one to care about others’ opinions, he also didn’t take kindly to being disrespected.
“I don’t mind ignoring them,” he murmured, his tone calm but firm.
“But I’m not the type to tolerate scorn from people weaker than me.”
As the words left his lips, an oppressive aura erupted from Morin.
His nen flared outward, laced with malice, sweeping through the surrounding crowd like a tidal wave.
The onlookers’ expressions shifted instantly.
Some visibly paled, sweat dripping from their foreheads as their bodies trembled. Their instincts screamed danger as if they were cornered by a wild, ravenous beast.
Those with weaker constitutions were the most affected, their faces etched with terror as they froze in place, unable to move.
“What did you just do to them?” Machi asked, intrigued by the sudden shift.
“Nothing much,” Morin replied nonchalantly. “Just directed some malicious nen their way.”
“Huh,” Machi mused, nodding thoughtfully. “So nen can be used like that too.”
The crowd slowly recovered, gasping for air as they shakily returned to their senses.
Any disdain or contempt in their eyes had vanished, replaced by fear and wariness. As they met Morin’s icy gaze, their apprehension deepened, their thoughts now dominated by unease.
But just as the tension seemed to subside, their wary stares shifted.
No longer aimed at Morin, they now focused on Machi.
Morin: “...?”
Machi: “...????”
“Now what?” Morin scratched his head, confused as the atmosphere grew increasingly strange.
With a blank expression, Machi’s forehead seemed to darken as metaphorical storm clouds gathered above her.
“Are the people of Meteor City really this bored and gossipy?” Morin muttered under his breath.
Machi didn’t respond, though the thin threads emerging from her wrist spoke volumes.
“Alright, alright,” Morin interrupted, stopping her from taking action. “Let’s stick to the plan. Uvogin and Nobunaga are still waiting for us in that cell.”
Reluctantly, Machi relented, reabsorbing the threads with a pout.
The two continued on their way, leaving behind a street full of bewildered and wide-eyed onlookers.
