Chapter 52: Open the Door, Big Brother
Mord's neighbor's house, the little girl's home.
"Jack, you need to understand that I'm trying to help you here. But if you insist on not telling the truth, there's nothing more I can do."
"I really didn't take that thing, you have to believe me, Stock!" The little girl's father pleaded. "I don't even know what that thing is or what it's used for."
The gang member named Stock looked up at his companion. The man's expression seemed genuine, but the question remained—where had the item gone?
A frustrated expression appeared on Stock's face as he said, "Then tell me where it went. It couldn't have grown wings and flown away. Only a few of us had contact with it at the time."
"You said yourself only a few of us had contact with it, so it must have been Mofeli who stole it," the little girl's father declared confidently.
"Why would he do that?"
"I heard he's been having money troubles lately, owing a lot to loan sharks because of gambling. Yes, it must have been that guy—he had sufficient motive."
"Damn it, that Mofeli has really screwed us over. Do you know where that guy is?" Stock waved his fist and slammed it hard on the table in front of him, furious.
"I don't know either. If I find him, I'll be the first to make sure he pays for this," the little girl's father echoed.
At this point, Stock stood up to leave.
Just as he reached the door, he suddenly stopped and turned back to look at the little girl's father. "Jack, the higher-ups place great importance on that item. If we can't find it soon, they'll ask Mr. Stanley to investigate this matter. You know about his abilities."
"If you want to change your story, there's still time."
Jack looked sincerely at his friend, not even blinking as he said, "Everything I've said is the truth."
Stock shrugged and turned to leave.
...
Early next morning. Gerr Lake, outskirts of Aftab City.
After an entire night of searching, they finally recovered a body from the lake.
Many cars were parked by the lakeside, where a group of men in black stood respectfully. In the middle stood a middle-aged white man dressed in a suit, looking every bit the gentleman.
After a while, a man who had gone to examine the body came running back. "Although the face is completely unrecognizable after being soaked in the lake, and all the personal belongings are missing..."
"But I'd never mistake that birthmark on the buttocks. This body is Mofeli's."
"You claimed Mofeli stole the item and ran away, so why is his body here, Stock?" The white gentleman looked at Stock beside him and asked.
Feeling the pressure emanating from the white gentleman, Stock was already sweating profusely. He dropped to his knees, face full of terror. "Mr. Stanley, I don't know why this happened either."
"But aside from Jack, Mofeli was the only other person who had contact with that item."
Stanley reached out both hands, cradling Stock's face, a neurotic smile appearing on his face.
"So you see, people can only be betrayed by their friends. Understand?"
Crack—
A crisp sound of bone breaking echoed. Stock's head hung limply, like an eggplant beaten by frost.
Stanley rose to his feet, adjusted his shirt cuffs, and said, "You know what to do now."
...
Due to the commotion caused by daily training, Mord usually practiced in the remote mountains.
On this day, as he returned after completing his usual full day of Nen Ability and swordsmanship training, he sensed something amiss before even reaching home.
The air was thick with the smell of blood.
Mord looked up and saw several black-clad figures standing rigidly at his neighbor's doorstep, all holding firearms.
The scent of blood emanated from the house behind them.
This likely meant his neighbors had met with misfortune.
As Mord contemplated this, a little girl with a backpack suddenly appeared across the street, walking in this direction.
Unlike Mord with his heightened perception, the girl only realized something was wrong when she drew closer and noticed the men in black.
Mord reached up and touched his nose.
This was becoming problematic.
The girl continued humming a cheerful children's song, her steps light and carefree as if completely unaware of the black-clad figures.
She passed her own house without stopping, taking a few more steps forward.
Then, under the collective gaze of the black-clad people, she stopped at Mord's doorstep.
"Knock knock—"
She rapped on the door.
The knocking captured the attention of the black-clad people.
"Knock knock—"
She knocked again with the same rhythm, appearing like any child returning from school waiting for a parent to open the door.
Though the men in black were conversing among themselves, their eyes never left the girl.
When the girl knocked for the third time with still no response from inside, one of the men in black finally grew suspicious and prepared to investigate.
"Knock..."
Please, open the door.
With her back to the black-clad men, the girl fought back tears, praying desperately in her heart.
"Knock..."
Please, big brother, open the door quickly.
Open the door, big brother—
Just as she was about to lose all hope.
"Creak."
The door finally opened.
A warm light fell on her face as she looked up to see a familiar smiling face illuminated in the glow.
"Back from school, Chiyo?" Mord reached out to pat the girl's head, shielding her behind him as he welcomed her inside. He then glanced at the people in black in the distance before turning to close the door.
"Bang."
...
The moment the door closed, the girl could no longer hold back and began to cry.
But being sensible, she bit her lip hard, trying to keep any sound from escaping.
These mournful sobs might have been from grief over her family's tragedy, or fear from her recent brush with death.
Or perhaps both.
Mord turned to fetch a glass of milk from the refrigerator, handing it to the girl before leading her to the inner room to rest.
Only when the girl's emotions had somewhat stabilized did Mord feel reassured enough to observe the situation outside.
Through the door's peephole, Mord clearly saw the black-clad individuals who had approached earlier loitering near his door for a moment before leaving.
Meanwhile.
The little girl's home had been completely turned upside down.
Boxes, cabinets, beds, sofas—every possible hiding spot had been torn apart.
Stanley stood in the center of the bloodbath, quietly awaiting reports of success from the gang underlings.
Just then, something on the nightstand in the distance caught his eye.
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