Kisho and the other two followed behind the blonde woman as they walked out of the house.
Behind the house, a sedan was parked, looking completely unremarkable from the outside.
The blonde woman's gaze swept over everyone, lingering on Kisho, and she spoke slowly:
"Please get in."
The few of them entered the car silently through the rear doors.
Although it looked ordinary from the outside, the interior of the car exuded a sense of understated luxury.
Two rows of sofas faced each other, separated by a tea table in the middle. Between the driver's cabin and the rear seats stood a pitch-black partition.
Idiya Fugray sat down on the sofa closest to the partition and gestured with her eyes for the other three to take their seats.
"Everyone, I am the deputy captain of the security team of the Bankro family. My name is Idiya Fugray. I am responsible for all matters regarding this transaction with Elder Eros. From now on, your arrangements will also be handled by me."
After the brief introduction, Idiya continued:
"Now, please tell me your names."
"Noah," Kisho said.
Idiya nodded slightly and looked at the other two.
"Mattes," said the man with bandages wrapped around his wrist.
"Harigot," said the man holding a knife.
Idiya responded with a short "Mm," raised her hand, and tapped the partition with her knuckles to signal the driver in the front.
The sedan began to move slowly, heading toward District One.
Kisho noticed that the expressions of the two people beside him turned somewhat unpleasant.
Mattes frowned and asked:
"This is… heading to District One?"
Idiya shot him a sidelong glance. Although, in principle, she did not need to explain anything to anyone, the bone-chilling sensation from earlier—when Kisho had pressed a triangular spike to her throat—was still lingering, so she said:
"We need to go to the airship station in Igridon Town. After meeting up with the captain, we will return by airship."
Mattes and Harigot exchanged a look.
Kisho vaguely sensed that the two of them were wary of something, and in the brief exchange of glances, they reached some kind of tacit agreement—possibly a resolve to advance or retreat together.
The object of their fear was very likely people from Chelsea Taber.
But then again…
Kisho raised his right hand and gently pressed on the triangular spike hidden inside his left sleeve.
His weapon, and his Nen, gave him far more security than anyone else ever could.
The sedan gradually picked up speed. The scenery outside the window flew backward rapidly, even blurring into afterimages.
No one in the car continued speaking. Each sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
And Idiya's gaze never left Kisho.
Toward this boy named Noah, after the fear he had given her was gradually brushed away by his seemingly harmless demeanor, a strong curiosity began to grow in Idiya's heart.
Because this child was nothing like someone born and raised in Meteor City, who had never been outside. In fact, the feeling he gave off was nothing like that of a child at all.
Not only was his strength impossible to gauge, his personality was also quiet and mysterious.
...
The sedan passed through the center of Meteor City, traveled through three districts in succession, and entered the desert.
What slightly surprised Kisho was that even while driving through the desert, the car did not slow down at all.
About three hours after departure, the sedan entered a small town.
Kisho looked out the window and froze, his expression becoming complicated.
He had been to this town before.
The last time the Troupe carried out a mission and headed to the White Light Mountain Range's Whale Manor, they had passed through here to transfer to an airship.
He remembered that back then, after leaving their base, the Troupe had arrived here in just two and a half hours—although there was some difference between that route and today's, it was still enough to glimpse the terrifying strength of that group of bandits.
The sedan drove into the airship station, entering an area blocked off by opaque glass partitions.
Inside the area was an airship inlaid with a massive family crest. Four people were waiting beside it, some standing, some squatting.
One of them, a middle-aged man, was wearing a suit. The other three were in casual clothes, their faces full of impatience, but restrained by the presence of the suited man.
The sedan stopped. Idiya gestured for everyone to get out.
The driver drove the sedan along the metal plate laid on the ground beside the airship and into the cabin.
"Captain Roy," Idiya said, lowering her head slightly toward the middle-aged man.
The man called Roy turned his head. He silently swept his gaze across Kisho and the other two. As his eyes moved, his brows slowly furrowed.
"Yo! Why is there a little brat who hasn't even grown all his hair yet?" one of the men with a scarred face exclaimed in mock surprise before laughing derisively.
"Go home and drink your mom's milk! Hahahaha!" another muscular man wearing a tank top chimed in. He narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at Kisho as if he were staring at a corpse.
The last person said nothing, but the look he gave Kisho was just as full of contempt and disdain. The reason he stayed silent was probably that he didn't want to waste time.
Kisho sensed an unmistakable killing intent from them.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Maris and Harigot—who came from the same district as him and should have been on the same side—had, at some point, moved away to the other side, keeping their distance from him.
"I really am miserable," Kisho laughed to himself. "Not only am I being treated like a soft persimmon, I'm also being used as a shield."
Laughing aside, his face remained expressionless as he reached his hand into his left sleeve—
However, before he could move further, Roy Kuhl, the captain, suddenly released his Nen.
Caught off guard, the three people from the East District standing beside him turned pale instantly. But after being intimidated, their killing intent and rage only intensified.
This kind of anger—being shocked and forcibly restrained—almost made them explode.
If not for the fact that Roy was the one responsible for the transaction and had to stay alive…
Roy Kuhl did not care what the others were thinking. He simply stared at Kisho, his face extremely grim.
Just like Idiya when she first met him, he could not understand what kind of mindset Elder Eros had, to use this little brat as a trade item.
Did that newly appointed elder even understand the rules? What did he take the Bankro family for?!
In his fury, he said coldly:
"It seems there's some conflict between you. In that case, before boarding the airship, settle it first."
At those words, Idiya's expression changed drastically.
"Captain—please wait—"
But the rest of her words were stopped by Roy's glance.
At the same time, the two men who had insulted Kisho, their faces twisted with malice, froze for a moment before grins they could barely suppress spread across their faces, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust.
The order they had received from Elder Chelsea Taber was: if circumstances allowed, directly kill the "trade item" provided by Eros. And even without Elder Taber's order, they would have done so anyway.
Elder Eros had already violated the principles of the transaction, privately competing for their trading target. The supplies the underworld could provide to Meteor City were already insufficient, and now he wanted to take a share as well—this alone was hard to tolerate. What was more, the slots to go to the underworld, and the merits that could be earned there, were limited.
—They already found even "companions" from the same district to be an eyesore, let alone an enemy from a rival district.
"Helping the family head clean up unqualified goods is also a subordinate's duty," Roy said slowly, his gaze fixed on Kisho. Who the "unqualified goods" referred to needed no explanation.
"In that case, Captain Roy, allow me to take care of the trash for you!"
The scar-faced man walked toward Kisho with a ferocious grin. As he moved, a violent pressure of Nen bore down on Kisho.
Kisho raised his head and met the scarred man's eyes, filled to the brim with killing intent.
"Scared stiff, huh? Hahaha! I told you, a little brat like this only deserves to hide in his mommy's arms and suck milk!" the muscular man sneered, venting his anger over losing the chance to curry favor onto Kisho.
Hearing this, the scarred man's wanton delight intensified qe brought out a knife without warning. With a push of his foot, he lunged toward Kisho, stabbing fiercely—
Under "Gyo," the knife gleamed with the light unique to Nen.
"A Conjuration-type Nen user?" Kisho still stood where he was, unmoving.
Honestly, after Kisho activated "Gyo," the man's speed was so slow it barely sparked any interest.
"Die—!"
With the scarred man's shout, his knife plunged into Kisho's body—
But that was only his illusion.
His expression went blank. The muscular man's expression went blank. Behind him, Roy—who had originally been looking on with disdain—also showed shock on his usually impassive face.
Kisho's slender figure had stepped half a pace past him. The triangular spike in Kisho's hand was driven straight into the scarred man's heart, piercing through it.
He couldn't see when Kisho had dodged, couldn't see when the triangular spike had been drawn, and couldn't see… when that deadly, icy weapon had stabbed into his body.
Even more terrifying was that the wound clearly wasn't a piercing injury. The flesh was mangled and turned outward, and one could faintly smell… the scorched aroma of a grilled heart…
Kisho raised his hand slightly and pulled out the triangular spike without hesitation. With a light flick, the blood foam and minced meat clinging to it were washed onto the ground by a stream of water that appeared out of thin air.
"Hmm, it really is trash-cleaning work. But I helped you handle it."
Kisho lifted his gaze. His silver-blue eye locked onto Roy, as if dragging him into a demonic domain.
He chuckled softly.
"No problem, right, Mr. Roy?"
Roy: "…"
What shocked him and filled him with inexplicable fear was not the death of the scarred man, but this boy—no, this kid—who looked weak.
He stared at Kisho and spoke slowly:
"Of course there's no problem. Since it's trash, just clean it up."
Kisho curled his lips, shrugged, and neither agreed nor disagreed.
A dark glint flashed in his hand as the triangular spike was sheathed again, disappearing into his sleeve.
Even though he was the one who killed the man… these people who referred to living humans as trash also disgusted him.
"Oh, right."
Kisho looked again at the muscular man, drenched in cold sweat and stiff all over, and the other person beside him who had remained silent from start to finish, and asked:
"You two still want to discuss how to resolve our conflict?"
As his final tone fell, everyone's bodies trembled, responding with silence.
A breeze passed through, dispersing the smell of blood, but it could not blow away the shadow of death hanging over them.
"…Ahem."
Roy coughed lightly.
"Since the problem has been resolved, please follow me."