Fragile. Sensitive.
These were the things Morrow saw in Kurapika before the boy lowered his head.
Though he sympathized with Kurapika's plight, he couldn't simply divulge information about Nen to him.
It was far too dangerous.
Even without using Gyo to meticulously observe the faint traces of aura around Kurapika, Morrow could easily sense the boy's current mental state.
It was like a tightly drawn bowstring.
It stood to reason. The Kurta Clan's Scarlet Eyes bloodline activated when emotions ran high, and frequent activation of this trait would inevitably place a burden on the mind.
Without the influence of Nen, this burden might not be significant, but over time it would accumulate.
The massacre of the Kurta Clan…
Just the impact of the horrific scenes left behind at the site alone would subject Kurapika to a prolonged mental battle.
One could say that the power of the Scarlet Eyes bloodline would be Kurapika's greatest asset in his future confrontation with the Phantom Troupe.
Yet, given the current circumstances, the Scarlet Eyes would only impose further mental strain on him.
But…
This lone survivor of the Kurta Clan would ultimately overcome this hurdle with remarkable resilience. He would not let hatred corrupt his nature, preserving his kind heart, a rare and precious quality.
This, however, was also Kurapika's weakness.
Morrow had no intention of dictating the course of another's life, nor did he wish to interfere with the path Kurapika was destined to walk.
Only by treading the earth with one's own feet could one truly understand the road ahead and how to traverse it.
But this wasn't the sole reason Morrow refrained from revealing Nen to him.
Given Kurapika's current mental state, exposure to Nen would only bring harm; that was one reason.
The other was that Morrow simply had no time to waste on Kurapika right now.
Moreover, given his own precarious situation, any association with him would only bring unnecessary misfortune upon Kurapika.
It wasn't the right time.
Morrow was rational, carefully considering every possible future outcome.
This was one of the foundations that allowed him to take root in this world.
"Are you here for the Scarlet Eyes?"
Morrow looked at Kurapika, who remained silent with his head lowered, and casually shifted the topic.
Yet his words struck a nerve.
How do you know?
Kurapika didn't voice his confusion. Instead, his hand shot out, gripping the wooden sword on the ground.
Morrow's terrifying, unfathomable strength forced Kurapika to react, but he dared not act recklessly.
Unfazed by Kurapika's defensive gesture, Morrow spoke calmly, "Your reaction confirms it, survivor of the Kurta Clan."
!!!
In that instant, Kurapika's head snapped up. His eyes, stretched to their limits, instantly burned crimson like blood and fire, glowing red crystals forming a halo around his pupils like a barrier rejecting everything.
The influence of the Scarlet Eyes shattered Kurapika's wariness, reason and last shred of restraint in one decisive blow.
Clang.
He tightened his grip on the wooden sword and slashed at the being before him, the monster who had so effortlessly exposed his identity and purpose.
This strike held no hesitation.
It was the most powerful blow he had ever delivered under the enhancement of the Scarlet Eyes.
Yet Morrow merely lifted a finger and effortlessly caught the wooden blade Kurapika swung at him.
Kurapika's scarlet pupils contracted sharply as he tried with all his might to pull the wooden sword back, but it was like trying to extract mud from the sea, utterly futile.
Though Morrow only held the wooden blade between his fingertips without any visible exertion, it felt as if it had been welded in place.
There must be... some unknown ability that grants this monster unimaginable strength!
"If you're so sensitive about 'exposing your identity as a survivor of the Kurta Clan,' then you shouldn't be strutting around in their traditional attire."
With a casual push, the force transmitted through the wooden blade sent Kurapika stumbling backward until he collided with the wall.
Hearing Morrow's words, Kurapika froze. His gaze dropped, landing on his own blue-and-white clothing.
So that was it...
Kurapika calmed down slightly.
Due to the news reports, outsiders had not only learned of the incident but also gained a basic understanding of the Kurta Clan.
Images Kurapika couldn't bear to look at still circulated online.
It wasn't surprising that someone might recognize the Kurta Clan's attire from those pictures and then use it to test his identity—just as this person before him had done.
Besides, if this man truly harbored ill intentions, Kurapika wouldn't even have had the chance to draw his blade.
"But I just heard the words 'Scarlet Eyes' and 'Kurta Clan survivor' and..."
The red glow in Kurapika's eyes gradually faded, replaced by self-reproach for his lack of composure and maturity.
How could I ever hope to reach my goal with such impulsiveness?
"Take off your outer garment."
Suddenly, that voice reached his ears again.
Kurapika froze once more, looking up at Morrow in confusion.
Under the other's unwavering gaze, he mechanically obeyed, removing the Kurta-style outer garment.
Morrow took the garment from Kurapika, then removed his own black suit jacket and tossed it to him.
Truthfully, Morrow didn't quite understand why Kurapika dared to wear Kurta clothing.
Given the current value of Scarlet Eyes, even the slightest hint of a lead would send vultures swooping in, especially in a city like Yorknew.
In the shadows unnoticed by ordinary people, there lurked those who would devour a man whole without spitting out the bones, dancing on the edge of knives daily.
If they took notice of Kurapika, the possibility of wrongful capture or killing wouldn't even cross their minds; at the first whiff of opportunity, their immediate thought would be to pounce and slaughter.
"You might not know this city well, but what it has in abundance are man-eating beasts."
Morrow tore the distinctly Kurta-style garment to shreds, crumpling it into a ball.
"So let me remind you: do everything you can to conceal your identity as a Kurta survivor. Beyond avoiding clothes that could expose you, you'd best get a pair of contact lenses. That's all I'll say, take care."
With that, Morrow turned to leave.
Kurapika stared blankly at his retreating figure and blurted out, "Why help me?"
...
Morrow paused but didn't answer.
Why indeed... It was merely sowing a seed of kindness, hoping it might yield some harvest in the future.
"There's an admission ticket to the Southernpiece Auction House in the coat."
With those final words, Morrow strode out of the alley.
Kurapika froze for a moment at the words, then instinctively searched the pockets, pulling out an admission ticket worth twelve million.
His hand trembled slightly before he clenched the paper ticket tightly, only to immediately loosen his grip, afraid of damaging it.
I don't even know his name...
Kurapika snapped his gaze back toward the alley, but Morrow was already gone.
In the silent stillness, all he could do was etch the man's appearance deeply, firmly into his memory.