The crystal-clear blade pierced through a thin membrane of aura, pressing directly against Menchi's vulnerable throat.
A trickle of crimson seeped out, slowly trailing down her neck.
Menchi's face paled. Her lips parted as if to explain, but no words came out.
She was utterly overwhelmed.
Whether it was the intensity in Morrow's gaze or the sheer force that subdued her in an instant, Morrow stared at the pink-haired girl mere inches away.
The moment she had drawn her two kitchen knives, he had recognized her.
Menchi, the Single-Star Gourmet Hunter who served as an examiner in the 287th Hunter Exam in the original story.
But it was 1996 now; she likely hadn't earned her Single-Star title yet.
As for her strength...
Pathetically weak.
Morrow wasn't sure if he had grown stronger or if Menchi at this point was simply too feeble.
Either way, subduing her had required no effort at all.
The real reason for such ease? Likely the razor-sharp edge of the Poultry Scarlet Knife, combined with his decision to sacrifice a portion of his potential aura to launch the fastest possible strike.
So what if he recognized her?
The coldness in Morrow's eyes faded slightly, but the pressure of his blade against her neck didn't relent. He paid no mind to the blood trickling down her skin.
Morrow didn't view characters from the original story through any rose-tinted lens.
This was a real world.
And in this world, anyone facing potential danger needed to tread carefully.
The moment Menchi had looked at him with the eyes of a predator sizing up prey, she had already become half an enemy in his mind.
His sensitivity to killing intent was sharp; had he sensed even a trace of it, this blade wouldn't have stopped at just drawing blood.
At Morrow's icy command, Menchi's pupils trembled. She immediately released her grip, letting the knives clatter to the ground.
Panic had overtaken her, her chest heaving so violently that Morrow's arm sank deeper into the softness pressed against him.
"Why target me?"
Morrow's gaze bore into Menchi's fear-filled eyes.
Her breathing was ragged, but as the suffocating aura of death around Morrow weakened slightly, she finally regained the ability to speak:
"Sairo... the Poultry Scarlet Knife from the Seven Chef's Knives..."
"Ah, so you wanted to steal it."
Contempt flickered in Morrow's eyes. Compared to Biscuit, this so-called Single-Star Gourmet Hunter from the original story had no principles at all.
Was this how all Gourmet Hunters behaved?
Menchi caught the disdain in his gaze and shook her head frantically. "No! I would never... I wasn't going to steal it!"
"The way you looked at me earlier suggested otherwise."
His tone dripped with undisguised scorn.
Menchi felt a wave of helplessness.
Or rather, there was no way to argue.
She had never harbored hostility; she had even prepared to offer a fortune to purchase the knife.
But she had a habit of scrutinizing everyone she met with the same gaze she used to evaluate ingredients.
That kind of look, predatory, assessing, was inherently aggressive.
On equal footing, she might have been able to explain herself.
But now, she was at his mercy. Any justification would sound like a feeble excuse to the one holding the blade.
Who could she blame for that? Blame the young man before her, so rough that he didn't even give her a chance to speak?
Blame herself for being so weak that she was instantly trapped in a deadly situation?
No.
The only one to blame was her own youthful arrogance, never once considering how wrong this reckless approach might be.
Menchi weakly closed her eyes, her bloodless, pale face carrying a fragile, broken quality. Perhaps this bold, assertive girl had never imagined such a reaction from herself.
This was also the first time she had ever experienced the consequences of her own reckless pride.
Morrow watched as Menchi resigned herself to her fate, then shifted his gaze downward to the small, bulging pouch tied at her waist.
"Don't move."
With a cold warning, Morrow withdrew his left hand from the softness it had been pressed against and untied the pouch. Throughout the entire process, Menchi remained motionless, eyes shut as if she had completely given up on explanations or resistance.
Using his thumb, Morrow pried open the pouch and found it filled with gold coins—at least thirty or forty of them.
By standard gold prices, such a small pouch would be insignificant to a Pro Hunter.
But these coins...
They were specially minted Tree Hollow gold coins, required for depositing items there. Each was worth a hundred million Jenny and could be exchanged at any pawnshop within the Tree Hollow's operational range.
In other words, this small pouch of Tree Hollow coins in Menchi's possession was worth billions of Jenny.
To wait here indefinitely, having exchanged dozens of Tree Hollow coins for immediate transactions…
She likely never intended to steal the knife, she had planned to buy it.
Unless she was here to ambush someone for their coins?
Unlikely. Not only would a Gourmet Hunter hardly resort to such tactics, but the Tree Hollow's people probably wouldn't allow it either.
Still, this did remind Morrow of something.
"Did the Tree Hollow's people tell you about the Seven Chef Poultry Scarlet Knife stored here?"
Morrow withdrew the blade and took two steps back, his expression blank as he asked.
Menchi slowly opened her eyes just in time to see Morrow casually toss the pouch of Tree Hollow coins back to her. Instinctively, she caught it.
"Answer."
Morrow flicked the Poultry Scarlet Knife lightly, shaking off the droplets of blood clinging to it.
Menchi snapped back to reality, sensing the shift in Morrow's demeanor. The pressure she had been under no longer felt as suffocating.
"No. The Tree Hollow operates by strict rules; they'd never do such a thing. I happened to see the knife when I was retrieving my items… It hadn't been put away by the old man yet."
"So you waited here, hoping to buy the knife from me?"
Morrow could tell Menchi wasn't lying. He had asked specifically to confirm the Tree Hollow's confidentiality.
But he also finally saw the Hunter's trait in Menchi, her relentless pursuit of what she desired. She had chosen to wait here indefinitely, uncertain when he would come to retrieve the knife.
Politely put, she was driven.
Bluntly put, she was stubborn.
Menchi nodded silently.
Morrow replied calmly, "Then you can give up. I'm not selling the knife."
With that, he turned to leave.
Menchi watched his retreating figure, her face still pale.
Just then, two men appeared at the mouth of the alley.
"That her?"
"Yeah. She's got a Hunter License."
Their conversation made their intentions clear.
Morrow stopped and glanced at the two men.
Both were Nen users, but their skills were mediocre. With just one glance, Morrow assessed their level.
But those two Nen users clearly lacked such discernment.
"Didn't you say there was only her?"
"Uh."
"Whatever, let's kill them both."
The stronger of the two confidently pronounced death sentences for both Morrow and Menchi.
--------
30 power stones reached.
Remember: bonus chapter for every new review and for every 10 Power Stones the story gets.