The first day after leaving Kukuroo Mountain, she spaced out.
The second day after leaving Kukuroo Mountain, she spaced out.
The third day after leaving Kukuroo Mountain, she spaced out.
The fourth day after leaving Kukuroo Mountain, she spaced out.
The fifth day after leaving Kukuroo Mountain, she spaced out.
Upon arriving at the town closest to Kukuroo Mountain, Millus had not left the inn where she checked in on the first day. The inn had three floors; the first floor was for dining, and the second and third floors were for lodging. If there were other needs, one could pay a running errand fee for the inn to handle them.
Millus’s constant spacing out was not due to negativity; otherwise, she wouldn’t eat three meals a day on time, sleep on time, or wake up on time. Her routine was as regular as a normal person's.
She couldn’t feel any negative emotions. Everything around her failed to stir her emotions. She felt as if she were wrapped in a bubble, floating in the air.
Perhaps the food at this inn was just ordinary. Despite not losing her sense of taste or smell, she found everything tasteless, eating only for the nutrients her body required.
She continued to space out.
Since it wasn't negativity, perhaps it was because she had become lazy.
It was vacation anyway, so being idle was fine.
Actually, she wasn't entirely idle. Millus had not abandoned the basic practice of "Ren," as she still had to pass the Zoldyck family’s assessment in two years and resume Zoldyck missions to repay her 89 billion debt with mission fees.
As the world's foremost assassination family, the Zoldycks took on super-rich clients with major contracts, averaging a starting price of 1 billion jenny. To ordinary people, this colossal compensation was an amount they couldn't repay in ten lifetimes. However, for the income level of "Millus Zoldyck," it was not particularly difficult and could be paid off in a not-too-long period.
While waiting for her meal at a table by the window on the first floor, Millus lowered her head and caressed the silver-white dragon wrapped around the whistle necklace she wore. This was the only item from her "past" that wasn't thrown into the incinerator. She had it stolen more than a decade ago in Meteor City and painstakingly retrieved it, which perhaps made it exceptionally precious.
Moreover, the whistle originally paired with "New Orleans." With "New Orleans" still with her, it was better not to change the whistle.
As Millus grew from a little dot to an adult, the necklace chain had been adjusted and lengthened several times. Like "New Orleans," it had accompanied her growth to this day.
Despite it being a holiday, Millus maintained the practice of concealing her presence and acting low-key, a habit from her previous missions.
Attracting unnecessary trouble or increasing the number of witnesses were situations no professional assassin would welcome.
However, even if not professional assassins, most ordinary people probably disliked getting into trouble, as it brought them no benefit.
The technique of concealing one’s presence could reduce one's visibility but was not invisibility. It was normal for eyes to fall upon her, but malicious gazes could not simply be ignored.
That gaze was approaching, originating from the front. Millus looked up, and the owner of the gaze, feeling guilty, did not meet her eyes, shifting their gaze to the tabletop.
"Please enjoy," said the owner of the gaze.
It was a waiter from the inn.
Waiters were in a profession with a low barrier to entry and high staff turnover, making it a suitable temporary identity for infiltration.
To ascertain the other party's true identity and intentions, Millus finally stopped spacing out all day. She activated "Ken" and utilized the stealth techniques taught by the Zoldycks, observing the other party's words and actions secretly in the guise of a professional assassin.
At any time, in any place, with no restrictions, waiting for the prey to reveal a flaw—this was the foundation of a professional assassin.
In the dead of night, Millus saw the target take out her discarded underwear from his pocket and begin to use it.
"..." She seemed to understand the meaning of the target's gaze.
Oh, so it was just a pervert.
Millus had a bad habit, which wasn't all that bad: she never washed her clothes.
The luxurious life of the Zoldycks had spoiled her. In her nineteen years as "Millus Zoldyck," she had never washed a single piece of clothing.
When you have hundreds of servants at home, would you wash clothes yourself?
The answer was no.
Not only did she not wash clothes, but Kiki bought Millus so many clothes that she couldn't wear them all even if she changed daily. Those clothes worn only once would inevitably be thrown away to make space for new ones.
As a dress-up doll, Millus didn't care much about what she wore, as long as it wasn't too revealing (and Kiki certainly wouldn't dress her provocatively). She was indifferent; whatever was given, she wore. She wouldn't even remember if her underwear was new or washed.
It wasn't important; none of that was important. After all, her game inventory had a reserve of up to 999 pieces of underwear, which she treated as disposable items, enough for over two years.
Having stayed at the inn for five days, although she hadn't generated much trash, the bedsheets at least needed changing. Thus, she requested the inn to clean her room for the first time. After breakfast, with a little more delay, she could return to her tidied room.
The Meteor City instance had given Millus a thorough understanding of garbage recycling. Underwear fabric was recyclable, and it should have been collected for recycling, contributing to environmental efforts... rather than being picked up by other professionals to contribute in other ways.
Whatever.
Although the reality deviated from her original intention, and she might have felt disgusted or something else, her emotions remained completely unfazed.
The moment she realized it, she felt a slight bewilderment.
Regrettably, even after watching that man finish his actions, go to bed, and snore loudly, her emotions remained completely calm.
The next day, she left the inn.
Not for any particular reason, just to avoid potential future trouble, and the thought that hotels in the city offered better accommodation made her decide to move.
It's hard to go from luxury to simplicity; the opulent life of the Zoldycks had truly spoiled her.
The Hunter Exam event instance wouldn't start for another two months. Millus couldn't go there now and needed to find another target.
She took out "Grandfather's Gourmet Map" from her game inventory. She hadn't looked at the contents of the small black notebook before. Casually opening a page, the first line listed the country and city name, the second line the street and shop name, and the following lines were written more casually, not strictly adhering to the lines on the page:
[The cream stew was too soft, the texture was poor.
The complimentary soup was good, but they only gave one serving.]
The Zoldyck family's work spanned the globe. The country mentioned on this page was on another continent. Traveling that far solely for a bowl of soup was clearly not cost-effective.
She flipped to another page.
[Rip-off for the seafood cheese gratin; the shrimp and squid were scarce. Bad review.]
She flipped another page.
[This restaurant is really spicy; everything you order is spicy.]
This was not a gourmet map at all; rather than recommending food, it seemed more like a collection of personal grievances.
In Millus's memory, after finishing missions, Zeno liked to eat at small, privately run shops in backstreets and alleys, as long as the environment looked clean.
This was like opening a blind box; one might taste "no wonder this shop's business is so poor" or "a hidden gem."
From the "minefield" records on the "Gourmet Map," the former far outnumbered the latter.
Disappointments are common; in the end, no one can escape them.
After taking an airship for over two hours to a neighboring city, Millus first went to a convenience store to buy a cup of ramen. The store provided hot water, tables, and chairs, allowing customers to eat inside. Two people were already seated at a table: one looked like a student, and the other like an office worker. In a hurry, the office worker ate quickly, took a hasty sip of the soup, left his seat, and threw the ramen bowl into the nearby trash can.
Seeing the grilled sausage the student was holding, Millus added hot water to her instant noodles and turned to buy one as well.
While waiting for the noodles to steep, she took a bite of the grilled sausage. It was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, with good flavor.
She slowly finished eating and walked out of the convenience store. It was a workday, and most people in the city were busy. Millus walked against the flow of people and went to a park.
The park was a very ordinary one, not very large, primarily frequented by women walking with infants and elderly people exercising. They should all be local residents.
Finding an empty bench, Millus sat down and began to space out.
Based on the sky and people's movements, it was close to dinner time. Millus took out bread from her game inventory to eat for dinner.
Then, she continued to space out.
With "Ren" protecting her, she didn't have to worry about insect bites.
As night fell, the park turned into a dating spot for couples. Millus, with her keen senses, could detect rustling in the bushes, but her emotions remained unfazed.
Later, the NPCs wandering in the park were replaced by homeless people and drunks.
Although her emotions had lost their fluctuations, Millus could still actively release malicious "Nen," causing the homeless people to run away quickly. As for the drunks who had passed out on the ground, she couldn't scare them.
Millus detested drunks and had an intense aversion to them because, in the "real world," her father would come home drunk and vomit everywhere, and he was a habitual offender. Her father would say he should drink when happy, and even more so when unhappy; in short, he had to drink no matter what, which made her mother both angry and in pain.
It was strange. Although Millus used to dislike drunks and only wanted to avoid them, now that she had lost her aversion, she picked up a fallen wine bottle and thrust it into the drunkard's mouth, piercing his throat until the bottle was completely submerged.
She felt nothing throughout the entire process. There was no dislike, so there was no satisfaction.
Millus walked on, devoid of emotion.
Walking alone at night is dangerous. Who is more dangerous is determined by strength.
The profanity she heard couldn't evoke any emotion in her, nor could being groped. She felt no emotions.
However, her aesthetic sense remained firmly in effect, so she didn't continue her experiments of triggering emotions and turned the three people who had dragged her into the darkness into corpses.
The possessions of the corpses could be [picked up]. Millus didn't need to bend down; she only had to get a little closer. 5c
The profits were pitifully small. What else could street thugs have? Unless they happened to catch them at their prime after collecting protection money.
Millus arrived at the hotel. Considering the hotel's class, the 16,829 jenny she had [picked up] on the way seemed meager for tipping the server. She had to add her own cash to make up the amount.
She had breakfast in bed the next day. This was the first time Millus had breakfast in bed outside of a hospital bed, as Kiki believed that having breakfast in bed lacked manners.
Despite doing so, it remained ordinary, without any emotion.
Hotels are expensive for a reason. Millus could stare out at the city's magnificent view from the floor-to-ceiling window, enhancing the beauty of the static scene.
Except for the cost, this expensive form of spacing out had little meaning. Even the most beautiful scenery becomes tiresome after a while.
Millus [took out] "Grandfather's Gourmet Map," flipped through it from beginning to end, and chose the nearest city mentioned as her next destination.
Although she wasn't yet 20 years old, Millus tried drinking, sampling everything from low-proof to high-proof alcohol.
She also tried smoking, which felt uncomfortable and self-abusive, causing physical discomfort but no emotional impact, so she stopped.
The Zoldyck physique had a high resistance to toxins, and the same applied to alcohol. As long as she didn't binge drink excessively, she wouldn't get drunk.
Lying in the bathtub, looking at the scattered wine bottles on the floor, Millus could still clearly think that the Zoldycks' tolerance for alcohol was indeed extraordinary.
Submerging her entire body in the bathtub water, on the verge of suffocation, she felt no emotions. However, Millus suddenly realized something.
Trying things she used to dislike brought no benefit.
Why try to recover those negative emotions?
"..." She seemed to feel a slight annoyance at herself for being so foolish.
Perhaps.
She didn't feel sad, nor did she have regrets.
While it's said that "without pain, one cannot feel happiness," it no longer mattered. Whether there was pain or not, whether there was happiness or not, it didn't matter.
Millus floated in the warm water, closing her eyes.
Since the outcome was the same – no emotions – it was better to do something beneficial for herself.
Doing things that were not beneficial to her was foolish, wasn't it?
...Idiot.
The water in the bathtub had already cooled. Wrapping her hair with a dry towel and then a bath towel, Millus took yogurt from the refrigerator. Even after becoming wealthy, she still liked to lick the yogurt off the lid, always feeling that it was the best part of a yogurt cup.
She could patiently groom her hair because her silver-white, slightly curly hair was beautiful, and she wouldn't get tired even if she spent an hour in front of the mirror styling it.
Replenishing the gourmet map became her daily task. Considering the number of pages in the notebook, she decided to record selectively, while writing the complete entries on an online platform. She registered an account with a false identity and uploaded photos with close-ups of food.
Her photos weren't great, and the accompanying text was bland. She didn't have the talent to be a food blogger, nor did she aspire to be one. This was just an unremarkable public diary, easily lost in the vast sea of online data.
If not for the appearance, money, and background the Zoldycks provided, she would be useless. Standing on a street corner, Millus thought.
She didn't feel sad, like she was floating, not touching the ground, with no emotions.
She had spaced out for quite a long time, so Millus returned to the restaurant she had noticed earlier. Passing by, she saw that the restaurant was doing good business but not so crowded that she couldn't find an empty seat, so she walked in and headed towards an empty table, sitting down.
"We are very sorry, but this table has been reserved," the woman who came to serve her apologized to Millus. "If you are willing to wait a moment..."
"..." She had no emotions, but in the past, Millus would probably have felt embarrassed.
Millus nodded, stood up, turned, and walked out of the restaurant.
Perhaps it was because she had spaced out for too long, but when she returned to the restaurant, she learned that the day's ingredients were all sold out. After serving the last two tables dining, the restaurant was preparing to close.
Being turned away twice in a row, she felt no emotions, but in the past, Millus would probably have felt embarrassed. Such unnecessary oversensitivity.
Those two tables were regular customers. Hearing the restaurant staff's apologies to Millus, they immediately helped explain the reason.
This restaurant was jointly operated by a couple who had a son and a daughter. Both children were very sensible and had been helping at the restaurant since they were young. What was commendable was the son's culinary skills; he was even more adept at cooking than his parents. Because the son was home from college helping out, the business was much better than usual, and the consumption of ingredients exceeded expectations.
The regular customers expressed their regrets, mentioning that the son had almost decided to go to culinary school, but his parents felt he should go to college, especially since his academic performance was good, and a college education offered better prospects than becoming a chef.
Someone else said that the young lady had already come twice, and it wouldn't be good to let her leave hungry. If she didn't mind, she could sit with them and share the meal.
Others asked if the young lady had a boyfriend, praising the son as a good person and suggesting they could get acquainted, even if just as friends.
Someone countered, saying that such a beautiful young lady surely must have a boyfriend.
Another person quickly added that the son also seemed to have a girlfriend.
"..." Millus had become the center of attention. She had no emotions, but in the past, Millus would probably have felt shy.
The regular customers had had some drinks and were slightly tipsy. Their discussions were quite loud, audible even from the kitchen, which prompted the male owner of the establishment to come out and diffuse the situation. Millus stood silently in place, showing no emotion, like a decorative doll. Because she had concealed her presence, she appeared completely harmless, and everyone else assumed she was introverted and shy.
However, it seemed she was indeed introverted and shy.
The biggest difference was that now she had no emotions and did not feel embarrassed.
The family apologized to her and politely invited her to stay for dinner. She stayed, whereas in the past, she would likely have declined.
Normally, the family ate their dinner directly in the kitchen. Since they were hosting guests, they set the table in a cleaned empty spot in the dining area.
"Big sister, your hair is so pretty, can I touch it?" The daughter of the family, about twelve years old, was very skilled at cleaning. Her parents didn't let her carry dishes for fear she might burn herself.
"You shouldn't casually touch customers," her mother reprimanded her. "Go wash your hands first."
"Okay." The little girl jumped off her chair and ran to the kitchen to wash her hands.
Dinner was made with leftover ingredients from the previous day. The polite family felt embarrassed, repeatedly apologizing for the simple meal and inadequate hospitality.
Millus's demands for food were not very high, and in her "real world," she often ate leftovers from the previous day. This taste, which she hadn't experienced in nineteen years, actually made her feel a sense of nostalgia. She didn't know how to express herself. After dinner, she placed two 10,000-jenny bills on the table and, before the family could react, turned and left.
It seemed she wasn't walking fast, but her pace was different from that of an ordinary person; she had already left the restaurant.
"W-wait a moment." The son of the family chased after her.
If she stepped aside, Millus could blend into the darkness.
She didn't do so because the son's eyes were bright and his appearance was clean.
Even without any emotions, her aesthetic sense remained firmly in effect.
Anyone who is good-looking deserves preferential treatment.
There were no unexpected developments. The son chased after her to return the money, accompanied by some polite words.
To avoid further hassle, Millus accepted the refund.
She had intended to write this restaurant down in her gourmet map. As soon as she finished writing the shop name, Millus thought for a moment, tore out the page, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the trash can.