Midnight struck, and the rain outside only grew heavier.
Inside the antique shop, Moro carefully packed away the jade figurine. It was the best find he'd come across lately—just a little polish and it would fetch an impressive price.
That was how the shop usually operated. Most of the profit went straight to Melena, but for Moro, the true value lay in the faint Nen residue clinging to antiques and crafts.
After stowing the box in a cabinet, he closed the door and glanced at the tightly shut front entrance. A clock on the wall told him it was well past midnight.
"Saixin should be back soon."
Saixin—his only employee. Diligent, obedient, never once complaining. Perfect for exploitation.
This morning, Moro had sent Saixin to meet a client. If all went well, he'd return with a few more handmade pieces.
The first ring on Moro's tattoo was now filled to capacity. Though it hadn't reacted at all, Moro still planned to keep absorbing Nen—perhaps the second ring would light up next.
After all, antiques lost nothing of their resale value just because their Nen was gone.
Moro boiled water for tea and filled Saixin's thermos. Then he settled onto the sofa to wait.
Once Saixin returned, he'd check the goods for Nen—
And then he'd vanish into the night.
The only question left was Saixin's choice: follow him loyally, or take hush money and disappear?
Knowing the guy, probably the former.
A faint smile tugged at Moro's lips as he listened to the rain pounding on the door.
Time ticked by in silence.
Half an hour later, buried beneath the storm's roar, a new sound emerged.
Moro rose to his feet, a calm smile on his face. Saixin had arrived.
Creak—
The door swung open. A tall, broad man stepped inside, casual despite his soaked black suit. He carried two boxes.
"Boss! Jackpot tonight!"
Saixin kicked the door shut behind him, a wide grin splitting his rugged face.
Moro's eyes flicked subtly to Saixin's right foot stepping over the threshold. His smile faltered—just for an instant.
Then he masked it again and gestured to the counter under the display case, where a thermos of tea waited.
"Good work. I made you tea."
"Ha! Boss, you spoil me. No wonder those sisters next door are head over heels for you."
Saixin dropped the boxes, still beaming, and strode over.
Moro raised an eyebrow but ignored the banter. "What took you so long?"
"Rain was insane. Got stuck in traffic forever."
Saixin popped the thermos lid and gulped down the steaming tea.
"Yeah, this rain's… something else."
Moro watched him calmly, hand drifting behind his back to grip a handgun.
Nen or not, a gun could solve plenty of problems.
Like now—
Without warning, Moro raised the gun and fired three shots at Saixin's side.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The first bullet deliberately missed.
The next two aimed straight for his lower back.
Saixin's eyes widened. He twisted violently, narrowly avoiding the deadly shots.
"Boss?!"
His confusion barely had time to register before Moro closed the distance and smashed an elbow toward his ribs.
Saixin's stunned look vanished. He raised an arm just in time to block.
Thud!
The clash of elbow and forearm boomed through the shop. A ripple of force, enhanced by Nen, rippled outward.
Saixin staggered backward, forced off balance by the impact.
He stumbled until his back nearly hit the floor-to-ceiling window—his aura brushing the glass instead.
Crash!
The entire pane shattered under the Nen's pressure. Rain and wind surged inside.
Backed by the storm, Saixin stared coldly at Moro. "How did you know?"
"I only suspected at first."
Moro leveled the gun at him, eyes narrowed. "Now I'm sure."
"Heh."
Saixin grinned stupidly, realizing why Moro's first shot had missed on purpose.
Moro's scowl deepened. "Drop the pathetic mimicry."
"What a shame. I thought I'd imitated him perfectly."
The fake Saixin's grin faded. Curiosity gleamed in his eyes. "So… what gave me away?"
"Your right foot."
Moro's tone was ice.
He wasn't joking.
The real Saixin was a die-hard believer in fortune-telling—he'd babble about it endlessly, pestering Moro to convert.
Today's reading? Enter or leave anywhere left foot first—or suffer a week of bad luck.
Of course Moro knew—Saixin repeated it daily like gospel.
The fake Saixin's face went blank. "Oh… is that so—?"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Moro emptied the magazine in a hail of bullets.
The imposter ducked and swayed, evading the barrage while retreating out the broken window.
He knew from his intel that the antique shop owner was an Enhancement-type Nen user. After Moro's second attack, he'd decided it was safer to keep his distance.
He also needed space—and time—to drop his disguise.
Without doing so, he couldn't unleash his full aura.
Rain pelted him as he backed onto the street. He expected Moro to pursue him—
But Moro simply stood inside, the emptied gun limp at his side. The fierce attack just now had only been a test.
So cautious… so conservative.
The fake Saixin smirked. Good. That gave him the window to transform safely.
He raised his left hand high, index finger twirling rhythmically as he hummed a little tune.
Inside, Moro tossed aside the empty gun and watched through the broken glass. His suspicion was confirmed: the imposter was dropping some kind of transformation Nen.
Under Moro's unwavering stare, a swirl of Nen energy wrapped the fake Saixin. In just seconds, his form twisted and shrank—
Revealing a shirtless, bald man wearing nothing but boxer shorts.
His body was leaner than Saixin's, riddled with holes of varying sizes.
Moro's eyes widened in shock.
A member of the Phantom Troupe—
Bonolenov?!