It was no wonder that a blue exclamation mark appeared above Chrollo's head. After hearing the mission briefing, Morels immediately understood why Chrollo needed a helper.
[Special Mission]
[Mission Name: Pursuit of Perfection]
[Mission Content: Perfectly fulfill all requirements of the commission.]
This mission had a special requirement: the client wished for the indoor artworks to remain undamaged or unsoiled upon completion.
Commissions requiring the world's number one assassin family to act naturally came with high prices and were by no means easy tasks.
Often, to get close to the target, unavoidable battles with those protecting the target's safety were necessary.
When fighting and killing occurred, there was bound to be bumping and colliding, blood splashing, and gunfire, making it impossible to care about the surrounding vases, jars, flowers, and grass.
Chrollo had originally planned to use a simple and brute-force approach to crush the opposition, having Shiba as his helper to quickly resolve the situation and eliminate everyone in one clean sweep, thus avoiding damage to the surrounding environment.
"Seeing you reminds me that it's more reliable to have you as a helper. Even if we act as quickly as possible, if someone randomly opens fire or uses an area-of-effect attack, and there's a slight oversight along the way, and the mission requirements aren't perfectly met, wouldn't that damage our family's reputation?" Chrollo pressed his left hand to his neck and moved his shoulder. "As long as you timely retrieve those artworks into the 'Game Backpack,' the biggest difficulty of the mission disappears, and I can go all out without holding back."
In short, Chrollo would draw the enemy's fire, while Morels would focus on [picking up] the artworks.
Although Chrollo adhered to a strict code of not killing "those unrelated to the mission," when it came to "those related to the mission," he was absolutely ruthless, regardless of their numbers.
The Zoldycks did not kill for pleasure; in other words, they valued efficiency, operating like emotionless machines, purely for the sake of completing missions.
Like a lawnmower passing through an overgrown lawn, figures fell one after another, and the field of vision quickly cleared.
Without holding back, and able to act freely, Chrollo's fighting spirit soared. He concentrated his Nen into his hand, shaping it into a dragon, and unleashed his signature skill, "Dragon Head Play." The dragons formed by Nen thrashed wildly, rampaging through the corridor, smashing through walls and scattering the enemy's defensive formations.
Dragon Head Play.jpg
This was no longer "assassination," but outright "overt killing."
However, killing all witnesses was also a form of perfect assassination—never mind the details.
"..." Morels, having completed her assigned duty, stood aside with her hands naturally hanging down, entering spectator mode.
Chrollo was a seasoned professional assassin, an old Zoldyck. If he didn't assign a task, acting rashly would be meddling. Therefore, Morels' idleness was not "laziness," but "Zoldyck tacit understanding."
"Go check if there's anything left." Chrollo, while wrestling with the enemy with the dragon in his hand, turned his head and gave Morels a look.
Morels nodded in understanding, stepped over the corpses scattered on the ground, and walked in the opposite direction.
As expected, the target was clutching an artwork tightly to his chest, his face ashen, intending to perish together if the situation turned unfavorable.
Seeing Morels approach alone, his eyes lit up.
He had previously seen in the surveillance footage that the artworks had disappeared into Morels' hands.
For him, the person carrying all the artworks being isolated was a good opportunity to recover his lost property. Thus, he intentionally left a weakness to lure Morels, a classic "invitation to the trap."
Two guards quietly emerged, one in front and one behind, blocking Morels' escape route.
Good "Zetsu." The two strongest NPCs in the dungeon were here.
Under the synchronized and fierce assault of the two guards, Morels "retreated step by step," finding it "difficult to move."
Seeing Morels about to be defeated, the target, whose excitement was at an all-time high, revealed a triumphant smile. Then, with a crisp sound of bones dislocating, like a camera shutter clicking, the target's smile froze as his head tilted at an unnatural angle onto his shoulder.
The employer's sudden death distracted the two guards, revealing an opening, but Morels did not attack.
Before entering the dungeon, Chrollo had said that Morels only needed to manage the artworks, and depending on the situation, she might need to act as bait.
...The hunter's actions were all within the hunter's expectations.
Chrollo, appearing from behind the target, stepped into the combat zone between the two guards and Morels in the next instant. Although Chrollo was advanced in years, he showed no signs of decline; his body was agile and fit, and in terms of speed, strength, and aura, he completely held the advantage over the two young men.
The former patriarch of the Zoldyck family once again demonstrated what a "killing machine" was—precise movements, not a single wasted motion.
No, it was more than just precision; he could predict his opponents' reactions. Under his guidance, the opponents unconsciously cooperated with his rhythm, as if they were willingly presenting their weaknesses to the enemy.
It was like the well-matched rhythm of a dance, making it highly watchable.
Of course, showing off was not ruled out.
Chrollo could have dealt with the two guards faster, but he took a bit more time, roughly a minute or two.
Despite the showing off, completing the mission without delay was the primary concern.
Fortunately, she hadn't intervened, or it would have been like showing off one's inferior skills before an expert. Looking at the two corpses on the ground, Morels thought.
Seeing her engrossed throughout the ordeal, Chrollo felt his demonstration had been well-received. He reminded her with a smile, "Meru, put the things back, and then we should leave."
Oh, right, they still had to put back the things [picked up] from the dungeon one by one. It turned out the most troublesome part was this. Morels pursed her lips.
"You don't remember how they were originally placed?" Chrollo didn't miss the detail on her face.
"..." She nodded.
"Lying."
"..."
The grandfather and grandson exchanged glances, their faces uniformly expressionless.
"You're still too early to deceive me," Chrollo couldn't help but laugh. "You hardly did anything. Young people should be more active; it's good for body and mind."
Considering the reward for this job was 200 million, Morels began returning the items to their original places, while Chrollo stood a few steps away, checking if the paintings on the wall were straightened, as if decorating his own home. If one could ignore the corpses on the ground, it would have been a perfect "home away from home."
Once everything was put back, Chrollo surveyed the surroundings with great satisfaction. Morels suspected he had obsessive-compulsive disorder or was a perfectionist.
[Special Mission "Pursuit of Perfection" Completed]
[Acquired Basic Ore x3]
Upon leaving the dungeon, Chrollo inquired about the culinary map. Morels then [took out] the black notebook Chrollo had given her from her game backpack and handed it to him.
Chrollo merely glanced at the number of pages with handwriting on them, without reading the specific content. "Hmm, you've been to quite a few places."
"I hope you had fun," he said, returning the notebook to Morels. "Then I'll head home first."
Morels nodded and watched Chrollo leave.
When the communication device was stored in the game backpack, the signal was blocked. After [taking out] the mobile phone she used as the new Hunter "Mo Er · Zhan Jiang" from the game backpack, the signal resumed, and Morels received several messages from Gon. The latest one was sent six hours ago: You haven't replied, are you still busy? e=(?o｀*)))
The earliest message was sent shortly after Gon and Morels parted ways: I suddenly thought of something. If you want to make quick money, how about becoming a bandit, hahaha.
The messages in between were mostly trivial, just playful banter while waiting for a reply.
Gon's messaging style perfectly matched his amiable baby face; it was lively, playful, cheerful, and as bright as his golden hair. If one hadn't read the original work, it would be difficult to guess from his appearance that he was a veteran member of the notorious criminal organization "Phantom Troupe."
Earlier, Morels had found a promising mission on the Hunter website and, in her capacity as a "fellow rookie Hunter," sent a message to Gon's contact information, asking if he wanted to join the mission.
The Phantom Troupe, as a bandit organization, was characterized by its freedom. There were few scheduled activities, and the organization was loosely structured. Most activities were participated in based on members' interests, with very few occasions requiring all members to gather within a year. If they didn't actively seek things to do, life would become quite boring.
When Morels sent the message, Gon was bored, so he immediately logged into the Hunter website to check the mission Morels mentioned.
It was a escort mission for a survey team, lasting one week. As for the reward...
Gon chuckled.
No need to look; he knew it wouldn't be high. Besides, he didn't earn money from such ordinary missions; he did it for the thrill.
After the Hunter Exam, he had investigated his fellow rookie Hunter "Mo Er · Zhan Jiang," and it turned out to be a false name.
Someone using a false name to participate in the Hunter Exam must have an unusual background.
Moreover, that young lady seemed to be interested in him as well.
This mission invitation was worth investigating.
Then, he would go play.
"Eh?" Upon meeting at the mission assembly point, the most surprising thing for Gon was that Morels claimed to have no vocal cords and couldn't speak, so the amiable Gon would have to communicate with the client throughout the mission. "I see, leave it to me."
Her name was fake, but was the lack of vocal cords true? Perhaps her voice was related to Nen abilities?
The difficulty of escorting the survey team was marked as 'F' on the Hunter website. For licensed Hunters, with a little attention, it was as relaxing as a leisurely stroll.
Gon said with a half-joking tone, "Isn't it a bit of overkill for you to come to such a small event? I thought you'd become a bounty hunter."
She replied via mobile phone text: Ore
"A gold-digging dream?" Gon admitted he hadn't considered this possibility beforehand. "Well, it's certainly possible, but the chances are slim. You'll have to prepare yourself mentally."
Gon was not a "player" and didn't know that the "ore" Morels mentioned referred to the special game item "Basic Ore." In any case, he couldn't see special game items, so Morels didn't need to explain further.
"As the saying goes, everyone who sees gets a share," Gon said with a beaming smile. "If you find any, can you give me half?"
"..." Morels nodded.
Promising non-existent wealth was inconsequential.
"So generous?" Gon exclaimed in surprise.
"..." Morels nodded.
"You're not planning to kill me and take it all for yourself, are you?" Gon said with a smile. "You're being too straightforward; it's suspicious."
Morels lowered her head and replied via mobile phone text: You talk too much.
"It's because you can't speak. I have to cover both our lines."
Morels continued to reply via mobile phone text: Okay.
"Miss Mo Er," Gon suddenly became serious. "Actually, there's something I'm very curious about. A friend of mine once told me, 'Every fat person and every girl with glasses is a potential stock.' What do you think..."
Before he could finish, Morels took off her glasses. At Gon's height of 180cm, he looked down at Morels' raised face.
Damn!
He had initially thought the netizen was a胖哥 (fat guy) who refused to bow to mainstream aesthetics, so his words were unreliable. He hadn't expected the teasing between netizens to come true.
He didn't care if the netizen would become handsome after losing weight; he wasn't gay. For now, his focus was solely on "every girl with glasses is a potential stock."
Oh no, oh no, this was the feeling of being smitten.
Like seeing something you liked while passing by.
Whether to buy, steal, or snatch, the method didn't matter, as long as it could be possessed.
Gon's smile, initially just a curve of his lips, without his eyes smiling, was somewhat cold. Later, as his mouth widened, the smile spread to his eyes, making his eyes crinkle in a happy grin.
Morels had already put her glasses back on, so Gon could only see the lower half of her face.
It didn't matter. Despite the brief glimpse, Gon's eyesight and memory were excellent, especially for such a striking image.
Due to the overwhelming impact, Gon managed to control his expression, but his thoughts were still somewhat scattered, making his smile appear dull and slightly fake.
Morels held up her phone screen, on which a very short sentence was typed: A lookist?
Hmm, Miss Mo Er was not the type to be beautiful yet unaware of it.
It didn't matter. In any case, Gon considered himself very honest. Yes, everyone in the Phantom Troupe was honest, very honest about their desires. Like attracts like, so it was enjoyable to do activities together.
"Then, are you willing to be friends with me, a lookist?" Gon's smile was full of friendliness.
It was okay if she wasn't willing; the word "willing" could be active or passive.
Focusing on [picking up] Basic Ore was more important. Morels replied via mobile phone text: Let's finish this mission first.
"I understand; you need to evaluate me, right?" Gon propped his chin with one hand and nodded. "Then I must perform well."
"Speaking of which, you didn't really participate in the Hunter Exam to become a Hunter, did you?"
"Otherwise, why would you use a fake name?"
Gon reached out and blocked Morels' phone screen, preventing her from typing, making her look up. Then Gon continued, "We seem to be the same kind of people."
Morels tilted her head noncommittally.
The dangers on the road were merely common snakes, wild beasts, and harsh weather, with no difficult challenges. The escort mission for the survey team passed without incident. Gon lived up to his title as the "Spider Brain" of the Phantom Troupe, being well-read and able to engage in many professional conversations, leading to pleasant chats with the survey team members. Morels, on the other hand, collected 17 pieces of "Basic Ore," which she considered quite satisfactory.
Because Gon had other matters to attend to, saying his companions had contacted him, they parted ways after the escort mission. Morels encountered Chrollo during her return flight transfer and casually picked up some extra work.
Morels replied to Gon's message as she walked: Just finished.
Gon was indeed free, replying instantly: What a coincidence, I just finished too (^o^).
He was lying, of course; he had already said "just finished" in yesterday's message, but it didn't matter. He was a lookist, and Morels was also a lookist. Morels didn't fuss too much about characters who were good-looking.
With mutual interest and free time, the two naturally arranged to meet again at a specific time and place.
"As someone who clearly separates personal and professional matters, before deciding to be a recommender, I need to see your strength." Although he didn't serve as a primary combatant in the Troupe, primarily acting as an intellectual advisor, Gon was not the frail scholar he appeared to be. His bare arms, revealed by his sleeveless shirt, were strong and muscular. Among the generally slender Manipulator Nen users, he was considered quite robust.
Morels was more than ten centimeters shorter than him, thin, and pale-skinned, appearing as someone who had endured little hardship.
While one shouldn't judge by appearance, take Machi in the Troupe, for example. Despite her delicate arms and legs, she completely overwhelmed Gon in the arm-wrestling competition within the group... Well, that was an exception. Gon thought, didn't he also win arm-wrestling against the exceptionally tall Pakunoda?
Based on his years of experience, he refused to believe there could be another Machi in the world.
Recalling it now, Machi's punches also hurt quite a bit.
Having fallen and conceded defeat, Gon vowed to himself never to judge by appearance again.
"I lost!" While surrendering with raised hands, Gon did not forget to protect the Troupe's reputation; his loyalty to the Troupe was as clear as the sun. "Alas, I'll tell you the truth! I'm just a non-combatant; I'm not good at fighting!"
"But I can guarantee that your strength is fine," Gon said, sitting up from the ground and coughing out the blood stuck in his throat. "Cough... Thank you."
He reached out to take the handkerchief Morels offered, not expecting her to hand it to him, but rather to bypass his hand and directly wipe the blood from his face.
This time, he genuinely smiled and raised his chin, obediently closing his eyes, like a golden retriever lazily basking in the winter sun.
Soft strands of hair brushed against the side of his face, followed by a softer kiss, landing just below his right eye.
Gon opened his eyes and took hold of the hand holding the handkerchief.
...
Due to both parties being in poor condition, specifically due to objective physical issues, the injured and the patient recovering from surgery did not have a pleasant night.
It wasn't just physically that Gon suffered tens of thousands of points of damage to his heart. The other party claimed to have had brain surgery, which had made her indifferent, and this offer of comfort was ineffective.
Being unilaterally comforted, along with the advice to "you should focus on recuperating first," was too much of a blow to his pride.
The key was that he could only blame his own inadequacy.
As soon as they finished, Morels got out of bed, showered, dressed, and bid him farewell.
The room was so desolate it was as if nothing had happened, leaving only the used condoms in the trash can as proof.
This was more painful than his beloved phone, which he had assembled himself, being destroyed in front of him. Gon covered his face with both hands.
... Absolutely not to be known by anyone else in the Troupe; they would surely laugh to death.
He would ask anonymously online.