Three hundred years ago, the renowned artisan Sairo exhausted his family fortune to purchase a small amount of scarlet luorite ore. After seven painstaking years, he forged seven chef's knives.
Menchi, a professional Gourmet Hunter, would never mistake it.
That slender, crystalline red blade was none other than the Poultry Scarlet Knife, one of the Seven Chef's Knives.
This was her first time seeing it in person.
When she had learned about these knives through archives before, the Poultry Scarlet Knife had always been her favorite among the Seven Chef's Knives, as it could fulfill almost all her functional needs when handling ingredients.
She never expected that while retrieving a recipe for someone at Tree Hollow today, she would have the fortune of seeing the Poultry Scarlet Knife.
"Old man, let me take a look! It won't cost you anything!"
Menchi's narrowed eyes slowly widened as she adopted a coquettish tone.
Clearly, the two knew each other.
But the old man was unmoved, completely ignoring her pleading. He stood up, sealed the Poultry Scarlet Knife into one of the cabinets, and then casually retrieved a yellowed recipe for Menchi.
"Here's your stuff. Take it and scram."
His words were brusque, but when he placed the recipe on the table, his movements were unusually gentle.
This was standard procedure for the Tree Hollow Organization when returning items.
Menchi pouted, knowing full well the old man's strict adherence to rules, and reluctantly gave up on the idea of touching the knife.
Besides, the Poultry Scarlet Knife had already been solemnly stored away by the old man. There was no hope now.
With a silent sigh, Menchi picked up the recipe but suddenly recalled the young girl in a kimono she had encountered earlier.
Judging by the timing, that Poultry Scarlet Knife might have been deposited by that very girl.
At this thought, Menchi abruptly dashed toward the staircase.
"Old man, I'm leaving!"
She didn't forget to bid farewell before going.
The old man frowned but didn't respond.
In the corridor of the ground-floor pawnshop.
Menchi rushed out of the basement, her figure like a gust of wind as she pushed open the iron door at the end of the hallway and hurried outside the pawnshop. But the kimono-clad girl was nowhere to be seen.
Already gone…?
Her eyes darted in every direction, but she found nothing.
Then her gaze shifted to the roadside ahead.
Before entering the pawnshop, she had noticed a gray car parked there—now it was gone.
Menchi sniffed the air, catching traces of unburned gasoline, and quickly pieced things together.
If I can really track it down, maybe I can buy it!
A spark of excitement lit up her eyes as she considered the possibility, and she was about to investigate the car's information and whereabouts.
But then she remembered the promise she had made to her friend…
Menchi glanced at the yellowed recipe in her hand and scratched her forehead in frustration.
A promise was a promise.
Reluctantly, she suppressed her impulse and decided to deliver the recipe to her friend first.
On the city streets.
The gray car weaved through traffic.
Inside, Morrow glanced at the copper coin in Kalluto's hand.
"If this coin were accidentally lost, would we be unable to retrieve the item?"
Thanks to Kalluto's explanation, he now had a basic understanding of how Tree Hollow operated.
Hearing Morrow's concern, Kalluto replied calmly, "The coin is proof of retrieval, but Tree Hollow has accounted for the possibility of loss. As long as the relationship between the person and the item can be verified, the item can still be retrieved without the coin, based on the depositor's wishes." At this point, Kalluto paused and added, "But verifying identities takes time. If you accidentally lose the copper coin, retrieving your belongings will definitely become very troublesome."
"I see."
Morrow nodded, then posed an interesting hypothetical: "What if someone used Nen to replicate the appearance and physique of the item's owner? Kalluto, do you think they could fraudulently claim the items that way?"
"I don't know, and I don't want to consider such things."
Kalluto responded indifferently.
Well, conversation over.
Morrow smiled slightly, unbothered.
Soon, the only sounds in the car were Kalluto occasionally giving directions.
The city they were currently in was still at least four to five hours' drive from Nolan's exact location.
If Morrow had to search for it himself, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack, nearly impossible.
But with Kalluto acting as a human GPS, all he needed to do was focus on driving.
As for how Kalluto had pinpointed Nolan's location, Kalluto hadn't volunteered an explanation, and Morrow certainly wouldn't pry.
Even if he shamelessly asked, Kalluto wouldn't reveal anything.
Still, Morrow guessed that the ability to locate someone was likely a more complex derivative of Kalluto's humanoid paper cutouts.
Today, we'll settle this matter.
—--
Mountains, forests, a lavish mansion.
Inside the opulent hall, three male Nen users sat on sofas.
The man on the long sofa had dark circles under his eyes and kept yawning.
On the left and right single-seater sofas sat two others.
The one on the left was gaunt, with hollow cheeks that made his cheekbones prominent. Since entering the mansion and taking his seat, he had worn a perpetually amiable smile.
The one on the right was a handsome young man flipping through a photo book, occasionally letting out eerie chuckles.
These three were the strongest members of Nolan's elite Nen user squad, the Fingers.
The man with dark circles was Caleb Dento, the Middle Finger.
The amiable-smiling man was Adam Zeck, the Ring Finger.
The young man browsing the photo book was Luke Gambino, the Little Finger.
Among the Fingers, the weakest had been the now-deceased Retona.
The strongest was the seemingly most unreliable young man, Luke.
He was Nolan's adopted son, groomed from childhood as Nolan's prized protege.
Caleb yawned and asked, "Why isn't Amanda here yet?"
Amanda was the only woman in the Fingers, the Index Finger.
With Thumb Retona's death, she had become the weakest among them.
Adam adjusted his black-framed glasses and said, "Half an hour ago, she mentioned being followed. No idea if she's resolved it or been resolved."
"Ah, serves her right."
Caleb smirked, his eyelids drooping. "Scamming might pay well, but with her flashy attitude, it's no surprise someone came after her."
"Heh."
Adam chuckled mildly but didn't engage further.
—--
Meanwhile.
Inside a semi-abandoned shopping mall.
A clothing store was filled with mannequins.
Some missing arms, others missing heads.
The only commonality was that they all wore various dirty, tattered outfits.
"Persistent men, aren't they?"
From behind a headless mannequin emerged a woman with striking makeup.The woman was none other than Index Finger Amanda, her cold and sharp gaze fixed on the clothing store's entrance.
There stood a man in a white trench coat, his features stern and imposing, with a noticeable cleft chin.
Amanda looked at the man with a cold glare, yet her tone was surprisingly coquettish: "I'm very busy right now and don't have time for you, Blacklist Pro Hunter Bushidora."
"..."
The man called Bushidora remained silent, merely unleashing his aura to its maximum extent, instantly readying himself for battle.