Exercise...
Biscuit raised an eyebrow.
Too obvious a brush-off.
Or perhaps he simply had no intention of answering the question at all.
First, he'd spoken those insincere words without batting an eye, then followed up with that indifferent, dismissive attitude.
It seemed the relentless "chase" so far hadn't put any real pressure on this brat.
Or was it that he had some hidden confidence, some means of shaking her off?
Biscuit considered the possibility.
Unaware of her thoughts, Morrow continued in that same calm tone, "Your turn to answer. Why are you chasing me?"
Ah, because I want to fall in love...
That meaningless lie, utterly irrelevant now, was swallowed back just in time.
The reason she no longer wanted to keep up the act of a sweet, innocent girl was simple; she knew continuing the charade wouldn't yield any further emotional payoff.
"An untreated emerald."
Dropping the cutesy act entirely, Biscuit raised a slender index finger and cut straight to the point.
Morrow's expression shifted slightly, realization dawning. "Oh, so you're after the gemstone. No wonder you chased so hard."
"And whose fault is it that you suddenly bolted for no reason?"
She lowered her finger, curling it into a fist, almost threatening, though her tone had shifted toward business. "And don't make it sound so crude. I can afford to buy a single gemstone."
"Is that so?"
Morrow took this as confirmation of her willingness to purchase and replied bluntly, "Well, that's a shame. That gemstone... I "sold" it the same day."
"Huh?"
Biscuit pressed immediately, "Who'd you sell it to?"
"Aksel, the appraiser at Southernpiece Auction House."
Morrow pulled a business card from his pocket. "He's an enthusiast for untreated gemstones—loved that emerald. But if you offer a decent price, I'm sure he'd reluctantly part with it."
With that, he flicked the card, sending it spinning toward Biscuit.
She caught it effortlessly, smiling. "Somehow... I get the feeling you're warning me not to strong-arm him into selling?"
"Not at all. For a lovely young lady like you..."
"Stop!"
"Ugh."
She sighed, waving a hand in resignation. "A term that should've been flattering, but coming from your mouth, it just feels wrong. Forget it, don't call me that again."
Morrow fell silent.
Biscuit gave him a long look before turning away. As she left, she tossed back a pointed remark: "At first, I thought you had a pretty nasty personality. But turns out you've got some redeeming qualities—looking out for your past business partners."
No sooner had she spoken than she leapt off the rooftop, her petite figure vanishing amid the fluttering white sheets.
If we're talking about nasty personalities, you're the real expert here.
Morrow exhaled slowly as he watched the sheets billow in the wind.
Based on what little he knew of Biscuit, he was fairly certain she wouldn't resort to outright theft for the gemstone.
His earlier emphasis on "stealing the gem" had been deliberate, just to force her to clarify her stance on the spot.
Once he confirmed she genuinely intended to buy the emerald, he had no qualms about revealing its whereabouts. It must be said that understanding these characters through the original work can sometimes prove useful.
One should also be grateful that this Two-Star Gem Hunter conducts herself with integrity, unlike some Hunters who would stop at nothing to achieve their goals.
Morrow withdrew his gaze and gave a slight shake of his head.
During their earlier conversation, he had actually entertained the thought of forming a deeper connection with Biscuit.
But he knew his own limits—aware that his innate talent paled in comparison to prodigies like Gon and Killua, the kind of rare gems that could truly capture Biscuit's interest.
Call it excessive self-deprecation if you will.
He believed that sometimes, not placing too much importance on oneself could help avoid unnecessary trouble.
Still, today's encounter had at least left some impression on Biscuit.
"Tomorrow is the last day of the auction. I've already visited every Bull Market in the city—it's unlikely any more "shipments" will turn up."
Morrow walked to the edge of the rooftop, gazing at the cityscape in the distance.
Yorknew was a strange city.
Just the annual auction alone saw a staggering flow of nearly a hundred trillion in funds, fueling the rise of towering skyscrapers and unparalleled prosperity.
Yet it also had clusters of low, dilapidated buildings, with filth and disorder everywhere.
The already narrow sky between buildings was further fragmented by a crisscrossing web of power lines.
Further out, entire districts of unfinished construction projects could be seen.
Just one more day.
Morrow took a step forward, letting himself free-fall toward the ground.
Thud.
Landing steadily in the alley, he walked toward the light at the far end.
Leaving the backstreets, the foot traffic grew denser the closer he got to the city center.
Morrow merged into the crowd like a drop of water dissolving into a lake, gradually fading into obscurity.
—--
In the distance.
Amid the flow of pedestrians stood a "girl" dressed in a dark purple kimono, with a bob cut and doll-like violet eyes—so delicate she resembled a porcelain figurine.
The girl appeared to be around six or seven years old, holding a closed paper fan lightly against her lips. Her emotionless gaze pierced through the shifting gaps in the crowd, fixed on the direction Morrow had gone.
Flecks of white paper drifted lazily through the air.
"Found you."
The girl—or rather, the boy—was none other than Kalluto Zoldyck, the fifth child of the Zoldyck Family.
Some time ago, the Zoldyck Family had received two commissions.
One prioritized assassination, the other prioritized locating the target.
For professional assassins, killing techniques were essential, but the ability to accurately locate a target was equally indispensable.
Kalluto's ability gave him a distinct advantage in finding people.
So he took the commission to locate the target first, while the other—which explicitly demanded the target's death—was accepted by his older brother, Illumi.
Kalluto's expression remained indifferent as he watched the crowd ahead, stepping forward slowly in his wooden sandals.
The priority was to find the target...
But once the target was located, aside from notifying the client, he could also decide whether to carry out the assassination himself.
If he succeeded, his payment would triple.
Kalluto moved unhurriedly through the crowd, seemingly unconcerned about losing track of his target.
I can do it.
Opening his paper fan, he hid half his face behind it.
A faint glimmer flashed in Kalluto's dark purple eyes.
—--
Heavens Arena.
Hisoka walked through the passageway specially provided for contestants.
Suddenly, he stopped and looked ahead at the tall figure leaning against the wall.
"Hisoka, sorry about this, but I have to kill you."