This moment, Mo'er was facing a dilemma, neither grand nor insignificant: a too-realistic RPG game.
After a strenuous effort, she had finally passed the early game phase, where she was forbidden from fast-forwarding and, with the mindset of an adult, was forced to experience life from infancy with the limitations of a physically impaired toddler.
After a strenuous effort, she had finally passed the early game phase of mandatory learning, where all pain was restored to one hundred percent during the Zoldyck family's specialized courses.
After a strenuous effort, she had finally passed the mid-game phase, which could be summarized as "perish in silence or explode in silence."
Now that she finally had her freedom, with money, leisure, and beauty, enjoying a carefree gaming life with almost no inhibitions, the long-absent pause button had been pressed.
Mo'er couldn't recall how long it had been since she last played a game requiring strategy.
The only reason she had managed to complete the "gallery" of the three most popular beauties in the fandom was because her character's stats were good enough, coupled with a bit of luck, which had given her the opportunity.
All of this, she had to thank the Zoldycks for.
Their status as the premier family in the dark world, their good genes, their striking appearance, their professional education—everything she possessed that was noteworthy and attractive, all the brilliant things about her, were gifted by the Zoldycks.
Beyond that, what remained of her? Meanness, cowardice, laziness, stupidity, sensitivity, darkness, greed, jealousy, resentment, unreasonableness, a rotten soul.
Who would have thought that a person's good qualities could all stem from a notorious family of assassins?
And the Zoldycks' help ended there. Yes, although she had collected the desired gallery, no one truly liked her as a person, let alone fell in love with her. Everyone was just playing along, captivated by the Zoldyck persona.
As for the "love" from her "family," that was merely a programmed effect of the Zoldycks' "family-oriented" setting, and the fact that her character stats were quite excellent; otherwise, the Zoldycks would have ignored her just the same.
In reality, she was nothing. Utterly rotten.
The smell of decay. How disgusting.
Mo'er frowned.
Having stayed in the Kurta clan's village for an extended period, she had inevitably absorbed the stench of corpses. This overly realistic RPG game rendered the smell of decaying flesh with excruciating detail.
Even though the decomposition rate of corpses under special climate conditions wasn't high, the cumulative effect of quantity produced a qualitative change. When the number of corpses reached 128, the combined smell… it was unbearable to contemplate.
Previously, Mo'er had been focused on gaining Kurapika's "favorability," or rather, his "trust level," to guide him along the original storyline. She had underestimated the stench of the corpses.
As the saying goes, "He who stays long in a fish market will cease to smell its foulness." After changing maps, Mo'er deeply understood the pervasive aggression of the corpse odor, which had seeped into every fiber of her clothes and every strand of her hair.
The smell of decay. How disgusting.
It was as if it were a reminder of her true nature.
She should have died long ago; she was a walking corpse.
After instantly returning to the hotel room using the pre-set [anchor point], if there hadn't been someone beside her, she would have already stripped off her clothes and wig to meticulously clean herself.
Mo'er looked down at Kurapika on the floor, who also had a "Body Odor 999" status.
For all intents and purposes, before resolving her own cleaning issue, she should have first addressed Kurapika's. After all, once clean, she absolutely wouldn't want to touch anything dirty.
Living the life of a pampered young lady from a wealthy family for so long, as she rolled up her sleeves to get to work, Mo'er had a moment of disorientation, feeling as if she had returned to the "real world," back to those days of anxiety about livelihood and the future.
A tired face, a tired smile, no hope, a monotonous, listless repetitive life.
Standing up straight, Mo'er glanced at the mirror in the bathroom. The reflection was not the face that even she found irritating.
Feeling a slight sense of relief, she began to undress Kurapika. After removing his shirt, she hesitated, pausing her action.
…This is a bit awkward.
Kurapika was of the opposite sex, and he was no longer young, already 12 years old, old enough to participate in the Hunter Exam. Was it inappropriate for her to undress him and bathe him for non-essential reasons?
"..." Although Mo'er had some peculiar fetishes, they did not include any for young boys.
Call room service? No, it might lead to misunderstandings, and her body odor smelling of corpses was too suspicious.
But if she didn't wash him, he would remain dirty and smelly, which Mo'er found unbearable.
Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.
Under the influence of the "Body Odor 999," Mo'er's internal struggle didn't last long before she decided to take action.
After wrapping the cleaned Kurapika in a bath towel and placing him on the bed, Mo'er eagerly ran back to the bathroom, [picked up] her wig and clothes into her game inventory, sprayed the bathroom with deodorant, and then turned on the shower, using a generous amount of toiletries.
As Mo'er showered, she mournfully felt a sense of purity departing from her.
While dealing with Kurapika, videos of "FBI open the door" smashing through doors kept playing in her mind.
The last time she had felt a similar breach of her bottom line was in Chapter 88, when she [picked up] "[Little Killua's Poop x1]," shocking Kikyo and Illumi.
At that time, Killua was just a baby in swaddling clothes. Now, Killua could walk and jump, and even reached over a hundred floors in the famous fighting arena, Heaven's Arena. Time truly flies. By the way, "[Little Killua's Poop]" was still in a corner of her game inventory. Although it was an undignified collectible, it was a limited edition, one of a kind in the world! How could a completionist player bear to discard such a rare collectible!
No, no, no, no, no.
In conclusion, Mo'er, touching her meager conscience, solemnly promised that she was not a pervert like Hisoka; she had absolutely no interest in "young fruits" or "little boys"! Even if she saw things she shouldn't have, it wasn't voluntary! She didn't touch any forbidden places at all!
Speaking of which, Kurapika would grow up in the future, right?
She wasn't very knowledgeable about that aspect of growth trends.
She hoped the future wouldn't disappoint her.
…Deep thought. httpδ:/m.kuAisugg.nět
The physical and mental pleasure after washing her hair and taking a bath led her to randomly ponder many trivial matters.
During that time, she also sprayed all the rooms with deodorant, ventilated them, and tucked Kurapika under the covers. As for the bath towel, she let him continue wearing it. She placed his change of clothes by the pillow, assuming he would put them on when he woke up.
Kurapika had confirmed the massacre of his clan and was unlikely to follow Mo'er's instructions to wait for news reports as in the original story. Thus, Mo'er had no choice but to anonymously report the crime.
The massacre of an ethnic minority was significant enough news to be reported by media outlets worldwide.
Although the police were ineffective against the true dark world, their efficiency in the ordinary world was acceptable.
The next day, Kurapika, waking from his deep sleep, quickly saw the news on television.
At that moment, the keyword "Kurta clan" emanating from the television instantly brought him to his senses.
When he rushed to the living room, Mo'er, watching the television, was relieved to see that he hadn't forgotten to put on his clean clothes.
Kurapika stared intently at the television screen, his hands gripping the frame, completely oblivious to Mo'er's reaction.
On the television, the anchor, with an appropriately somber tone and perfect diction, read the news report:
"From the crime scene, it was discovered that family members were placed facing each other. Their bodies were pierced with sharp weapons, and their heads were severed while they were still alive."
"The eyeballs of all pure-blooded Kurta clan members were meticulously removed. While the eyeballs of those who married into the village from other villages were left intact, they bore significantly more wounds than the Kurta clan members. The adult males had numerous wounds, indicating a struggle with the perpetrator."
"From this, it can be inferred that the perpetrator first attacked the outsiders to enrage the Kurta clan members. Once their eyes turned scarlet due to pain and anger, they were then killed and decapitated one by one."
"It is said that the Scarlet Eyes, born from intense rage, possess the most vibrant crimson color. It is heard that they can fetch a considerable price in the underground black market."
"The children also bore many gruesome wounds. Based on this, it is believed that the perpetrator inflicted these injuries to provoke the children's parents, making their Scarlet Eyes even more vibrant."
"Near the mutilated corpses, a message believed to be from the perpetrator was found: 'We accept nothing, so take not a single thing from us.'"
"..."
Only after the next, completely unrelated news segment had finished did Kurapika, who had been motionless like a statue, collapse to the ground in exhaustion. The television screen reflected his Scarlet Eyes, appearing like two blood-soaked holes piercing the screen. In the darkness of night, it would have been as terrifying as a horror film set.
Although Scarlet Eyes were considered one of the "Seven Beauties," they were not something everyone could appreciate.
When Kurapika underwent the village elder's "outdoor test," the townsfolk who saw his Scarlet Eyes merely felt disgusted and frightened, calling them "eyes of a demon."
At this moment, Mo'er, just like Kurapika, remained motionless, as if frozen. The only sounds in the room, besides the television, were the subtle clicks of Kurapika gritting his teeth and clenching his fists.
Kurapika's back was to Mo'er, but she could clearly feel him struggling to suppress the surging anger within him.
This suppressed state was more troublesome; Mo'er didn't know whether to comfort him or discreetly leave.
After observing cautiously for a moment, Mo'er decided to leave, giving Kurapika private space to process his emotions.
Fearing she might disturb the solemn atmosphere, Mo'er utilized her professional assassin skills, moving silently away. To let Kurapika know she was leaving, she deliberately left a soft closing sound of the door before exiting the hotel room.
Wait, wait a moment!
Exhaling a long sigh, Mo'er felt as if she had escaped the suffocating atmosphere of a cold war family situation in the "real world." Just as she felt immense relief, she suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to mention when she would return.
If she didn't clarify her return time, Kurapika might worry that she could come back at any moment, thus preoccupying his mind and wasting the private time Milluth the Elder had intended for him!
"..." Mo'er had no choice but to once again employ her professional assassin skills, silently sneaking back in.
Kurapika was still in the same state as when she had left. So, she placed a note where she had been, writing "I'll be back tomorrow morning at 8 AM." Originally, she had written "I'll be back at 12 PM today." Considering the tragedy Kurapika had experienced was no ordinary tragedy, he wouldn't be able to process it within a few hours. Thus, Mo'er revised the time repeatedly, finally settling on the next day.
After waiting in the hallway for a while, for monitoring purposes, Mo'er resolved to endure the atmosphere she disliked and sneaked in again, observing Kurapika's actions from the shadows. Kurapika's state was very dangerous, far more so than a typical child throwing a tantrum. He could easily go to extremes, so she couldn't let her guard down!
As a result, Kurapika didn't cry, curse, or excitedly rush out seeking revenge. He simply sat quietly, facing the television screen, his eyes devoid of focus.
Mo'er very, very, very… disliked this scene!
She recalled holding her mother's ashes, curled up in a corner of the room.
Continuously, continuously, continuously, continuously, continuously.
Her mother had selfishly died first, escaping the hopeless, impoverished life ahead of her to enjoy herself alone. Her mother had abandoned her forever.
Why didn't she take her with her!
Cunning mother! Hateful mother! Selfish mother! Incompetent mother! The mother who ruined her! The mother she couldn't help but curse countless times! The mother she utterly hated!
Her mother had died before her! She had tried her best to be obedient! She had lived cautiously, constantly watching her mother's expressions, hardly daring to get angry in front of her mother! A flicker of displeasure from her mother could keep her awake all night! She had endured, endured, endured, endured, endured!
Unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable!
No, don't think back, don't think back to those things!
Mo'er clutched the fabric of her clothes near her chest, her racing heart feeling like it would explode. An extreme sense of revulsion filled her mind, making her feel like vomiting.
Suppressing the urge to vomit and the tears welling up in her eyes, Mo'er dug her fingernails into her palms, sweat pouring down her face.
The images in her eyes began to distort.
She couldn't take it anymore; she had reached her limit.
Mo'er fled as if escaping.
An hour later, she was showering in another location. Her body was free of wounds, and the water washed streaks of blood down the drain. Not far away lay her discarded clothes, stained with blood.
Only when she was combing her hair did she gradually calm down, speaking to the mirror with her lips:
"I am not..."
"I am Milluth."
"I am no longer..."
"I am Milluth."
"I can."
"I am fine."
"I am no longer..."
"Mother... Father..."
"I am Milluth."
"I am Milluth."
Then she saw her reflection in the mirror frown and start to cry.
From the tip of her nose to her cheeks, and then to her eye sockets, all were red from crying. She cried uncontrollably.
She was too incompetent, not even as strong as a 12-year-old child.
She was trash with only a pretty exterior.
"...Mom."
She vaguely uttered the first syllable a baby learns.
The languages of various countries, nations, and regions around the world have their unique characteristics and vastly different pronunciations, but the pronunciation of "Mama" is the same worldwide. This is because the sound "Mama" is an involuntary sound made by an infant, the most easily uttered involuntary sound.
Mo'er wiped away her tears. She was not satisfied with the uncontrolled sound she had just made, so she stopped crying.
Re-washing her face, conditioning her hair and skin took a significant amount of time, and it provided her with comfort once more.
Sitting back in front of the mirror, she spoke to herself with her lips:
"I am beautiful."
"What a beautiful face. Like a doll."
"What beautiful hair. Rare silver-white."
"What beautiful skin. Rare fair complexion."
"I am the most beautiful."
"I never get tired of looking at myself."
"I am Milluth."
"I am the eldest daughter of the Zoldyck family."
"Zoldyck, the world's number one assassin family."
"Haha."
"I am Milluth."
"I am also Mo'er."
"Mo'er."
"Haha."
Alright, she had truly stopped crying now.
Rubbing her face with her hands, she reluctantly began to transform herself into the professional hunter "Mo'er · Soy Sauce."
From then on, her performance was stable, and Kurapika's performance the next day was also stable.
Kurapika had learned from the wanted posters on the news that his enemies were a criminal organization called the "Phantom Troupe." He now had a clear objective and no extra time for grief.
As Kurapika had said, he did not attempt to seek Mo'er's help, but was about to set off.
Because he wanted to thank her and bid her farewell in person, he didn't rush off, but waited for Mo'er to return to the hotel.
He said he would not be returning to the village for the time being. Due to the large number of corpses, the local government had buried them on-site, returning them to the earth, so there was no need for him to arrange burials. Certain international NGOs had also arrived at the site of the tragedy to hold commemorations with humanitarian concern, placing flowers and candles.
"Besides, there are too many people and eyes," he added to Mo'er, proving he had carefully considered his self-protection, so she didn't need to worry.
He did not mention his further plans, nor did Mo'er ask, to avoid counterproductive effects.
Mo'er gave Kurapika a pair of wooden dual blades for self-defense, as, according to the original manga, these were the weapons Kurapika used during the Hunter Exam.
She also gave him a copy of "The Complete Revenge Manual," with three lines of small text printed below the title on the cover:
[Under the law, justice's functionality remains unclear. The era of waiting for justice to arrive has long passed.
We must resurrect justice ourselves. Now is the era to convict murderers with the word "revenge" and implement justice.
Never commit suicide if bullied, nor cry yourself to sleep, living a life of sorrow. Repeatedly contemplate how to reclaim justice.]
This was not a strange book; it was a legitimate publication available on the market.
The book detailed various methods of revenge for different occasions and targets, such as offices, schools, neighbors, corporations, organizations, criminals, relatives, and so on, as well as the potential legal risks. Mo'er felt it was very suitable for honest individuals who were bullied.
She believed it was the best gift she could choose, and therefore, she personally left a dedication on the book's flyleaf:
[Make sure they receive their just punishment!]
She must have been quite excited when writing this sentence, the exclamation mark conveying her passion.
"..." To this, Kurapika said nothing. Instead, as if just remembering, he asked her how the books she borrowed from the library a few days ago were.
Mo'er replied, "I'm not sure if I'll have the chance to let you read it, so I returned it to the library first." She stated that she had noted down the book titles and could buy them for him if he wished to read them.
"No, thank you, really, you don't have to." Kurapika shook his head like a rattle drum.
He refused most of Mo'er's gifts, only reluctantly accepting a backpack, the wooden dual blades, contact lenses, "The Complete Revenge Manual," and a packed sandwich.
Facing Mo'er's obvious "high hopes," perhaps out of politeness, Kurapika, to match the atmosphere, asked if his revenge could succeed—he knew Mo'er, who wanted to avoid butterfly effects, wouldn't give him an answer.
Mo'er wrote in her notebook: [You are very smart; you can achieve most things you set your mind to.]
It was a widely applicable statement, of little significance, like a placebo.
She then wrote: [And I am very foolish and tend to mess things up.]
That's why her farewell was so "enthusiastic." She didn't want to have too much influence on (Kurapika's) future, and parting as soon as possible was the best course of action.
Kurapika also thought it was better to part ways soon. Although Kurapika was sincerely grateful for her help, he preferred not to see her again.
He had a faint premonition that when she reappeared, it would likely signify the arrival of the "predetermined fate" she often spoke of.
He detested this feeling of being manipulated by "fate" for no reason.
Furthermore, to uphold this so-called "predetermined fate," there was also the possibility that she might become an "enemy" next time.
The time for this year's Hunter Exam had passed. He must participate in next year's Hunter Exam!
He needed to become a Hunter as quickly as possible, to hunt down the culprits who killed his clansmen and bring those scoundrels to justice.
He would do it.
No, he must do it!
Clenching his fists, suppressing the surging emotions, and striving to calm his state, confirming his eyes had returned to their normal brown color, Kurapika stepped forward.
Later, he discovered that Mo'er had secretly tucked a stack of Jenny bills into the backpack's inner pocket, all in denominations of 10,000 Jenny, totaling 100 bills, amounting to 1 million Jenny.
Initially, he felt Mo'er had acted completely on her own initiative, disregarding his personal wishes. But then he remembered how bulging her backpack had seemed at the time, and his mood became somewhat complex.
Every time they played in the forest, his mother would always prepare a particularly lavish picnic basket for him, for fear that he and his companions would go hungry. Even when he said he didn't need so much, it was to no avail. As a result, they inevitably ended up lying on the grass to rest after eating, simply because they were too full. When he saw his mother's happy expression upon opening the empty basket upon their return, he swallowed his suggestions time and again.
"..." Kurapika shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts from his mind.
The happier the memories became, the more painful and tormenting they were now, like a dull knife cutting his heart, nearly causing his Scarlet Eyes to flare uncontrollably.
Later, he used the 1 million Jenny for charity, with the donor's name left as "Mo'er · Soy Sauce."
There was one thing he never discovered: Mo'er had followed him for more than a week before she was finally able to leave with peace of mind.
*Huff—*
Players sure have a tough time, don't they.