When a person's desire reaches a certain intensity, a blue exclamation mark will appear above their head.
"Hel, long time no see."
A sports car stopped beside Mearls, and the man driving it, with a blue exclamation mark above his head, waved hello.
[Special Mission]
[Mission Name: Repeat Customer]
[Mission Content: Encountering a previously favored host again...]
The stylish sports car attracted the attention of many passersby. The man was young, impeccably dressed. Though not handsome, a man's most significant value is generally his career or wealth, not his looks. Thus, he could be considered a promising young talent, the dream of many young girls.
Mearls had used many pseudonyms. "Hel" was a nickname derived from "Hela," which she used when frequenting host clubs. In other words, only hosts would call her by this pseudonym.
"My former colleague told me you inquired about me," the man said, handing over his business card. "As you know, after the accident, I terminated my contract with the club. This is my business card. I've changed careers."
[Received business card of the host who changed careers]
The version Mearls heard differed slightly from the man's account. His former colleague said he was fired by the club, not that he resigned.
Understandable, everyone has pride.
The accident the man mentioned was actually Illumi, using Nen needles to control a passerby, who then pretended to be drunk and disorderly, attacking him with a broken beer bottle and disfiguring his face.
How could a Nen user commit a crime using "special abilities," especially one who was a professional killer with years of experience, leave any clues?
The police, being ordinary humans, couldn't uncover the truth, and the case was closed as a simple "public disturbance due to intoxication."
The drunkard was a penniless vagrant, possessing nothing but his life. Due to severe alcohol dependence, he was never lucid, and such a person naturally couldn't offer even a single Jenny in compensation. The man, as the victim, had no recourse but to accept his misfortune.
Alas, a top-tier four-star player of Kuroro, ill-fated and with his looks ruined. In the host industry where appearance is life, disfigurement meant the end of his career. The club immediately terminated his contract without hesitation. The once glamorous No. 1 fell into despair, becoming a laughingstock for countless people in the industry. Everyone believed his life was over.
Not long after being admitted to the hospital, abandoned and mocked by the world, he cursed everything in existence from his sickbed.
He poured all his money and emptied his assets, undergoing countless plastic surgeries. Due to the severity of his injuries and damaged facial nerves, even the best plastic surgeons couldn't restore his original face. At best, they could reshape it to an average person's level. Moreover, he couldn't make any significant facial expressions, or his face would become distorted.
However, more pressing than his face was the fact that his money had run out.
Since earning a living through his profession was too slow and yielded too little, he decided to do what he did best: continue scamming women.
He believed there were plenty of foolish women in the world and would prove to everyone that even without his looks, he could still extract money from women.
Similar to his days as a host, he first built a persona and packaged himself. He borrowed money from everywhere, posing as a promising young talent, then searched for targets, deceiving different girls with various excuses.
During his time as a host, he had gained considerable insight into the gray industry and knew how to control and exploit people's value.
The things he had done in the past few months, for the sake of his success, were enough to land him in prison for the rest of his life.
Indeed, a top-tier four-star player of Kuroro was also a complete scumbag.
Mearls even felt a touch of admiration for his tenacious, optimistic spirit of striving to live.
As for his wicked deeds, what did they have to do with the daughter of a killer family? If she were to face legal judgment, Mearls's sentence would undoubtedly be longer.
The man's reason for contacting Mearls was simple: money.
The woman who had spent lavishly to push the man to become the club's No. 1 was undoubtedly the biggest patron of his life. If he could capture this woman, he could reverse his precarious current situation, where his income barely covered his expenses. Every trap he set required capital, and his initial funds were all from high-interest loans that didn't require collateral. Maintaining a balance between income and expenditure was a good achievement before his new venture took off.
This foolish woman, likely an unworldly young lady from a wealthy family, was easily manipulated with a slightly different approach than other hosts, coaxing her into spending a fortune. This lady was probably very lonely and never spoke much. The fact that she was attracted to his aloof persona indicated a masochistic tendency.
Using a slightly more assertive attitude would capture her attention.
Of course, the man knew he couldn't invite this lady based on his looks anymore. Thus, he meticulously crafted a "bloody rebirth" script, briefly summarizing the "hardships" and "tribulations" he had endured over the past few months, focusing on showcasing his triumphant stance after overcoming difficulties.
Targeting this lady, the man used the pretext of "business investment and cooperation" and invited her to his villa for a detailed discussion.
The sports car drove into a high-end villa complex and arrived at one of the villas, where servants came out to greet them. Everything appeared normal, fitting the elite persona the man had deliberately cultivated. Many young girls would lower their guard upon arriving here.
In reality, this villa was used by a wealthy man for vacations and was usually vacant. The man had bribed the villa's caretakers to cooperate with him and complete his scam.
This time, he intended to play a big game: kidnapping this lady. Based on the lady's past spending habits at the club, he estimated the ransom could be at least 500 million Jennies.
However, the lady's last words at the club, "Perhaps I won't be coming again," gave him some pause. He wondered if her family had restricted her spending. He heard that the lady hadn't frequented any host clubs for entertainment since then.
Kidnapping was only one part of the plan. The lady's lonely disposition might stem from a lack of family care. Perhaps her family didn't value her highly. After all, wealthy families often had many children, and losing one wouldn't make much of a difference.
If kidnapping wasn't feasible, he would coerce the lady into handing over all the money she could access and then sell her off like a commodity.
The lady was beautiful, accustomed to luxury, with delicate skin, and would surely fetch a good price.
With a cup of drugged black tea to incapacitate the unwary lady, the man eagerly rummaged through her bag, finding the phone and bank cards he desired.
The phone was unlocked, allowing him to easily browse the contacts.
The "Family" group contained nine people, with no specific names, only kinship terms used as contact names, making the family structure immediately apparent. Besides parents and other elders, there were four younger brothers among her direct relatives of the same generation. The lady was the only daughter.
The "Friends" group surprisingly had 999 people, with no specific names, using codenames as contact names: Friend 1, Friend 2, Friend 3, and so on.
Such a novel contact list opened his eyes. It seemed the lady's personality was more than just quirky.
On a side note, although the lady's personality wasn't exactly pleasant, her physical appearance was quite good. If he weren't short on cash, he would have wanted to keep her for himself.
Back at the club, the man had only viewed the lady as a lamb to be slaughtered, desperately trying to pique her interest and encourage her to spend money, never considering her as "a woman."
The man wasn't immune to beauty, but he knew that money came first. Once he had enough money, any desire could be satisfied, and women were only a small part of it – one shouldn't lose sight of the bigger picture for a minor gain.
Now, with the lady practically in his grasp and significant income in sight, the man couldn't help but feel elated.
Seizing the rare opportunity, he decided to violate the lady. He would record the act and use it to blackmail her, preventing her from revealing the truth and forcing her to obey, crying to her family for money.
If the lady were a virgin, doing so would undoubtedly diminish her commodity value. The man hesitated for a moment. His inflated desire and repressed dissatisfaction with fate pushed him to disregard the potential financial loss and place the lady on the bed.
The man first removed his outer clothes and carefully hung them on a hanger – these respectable clothes used for the scam were expensive and couldn't be wrinkled or stained.
Then, the man took out the pre-prepared recording equipment from the wardrobe and adjusted the lens.
The lady lay supine on the bed, sleeping soundly, her form delicate. Her pure black hair contrasted with her skin as white as snow. Her clothes were simple, but from their fabric and craftsmanship, the man knew they were expensive designer items.
What a pampered lady, and a rare beauty at that.
Thinking of the scene where he would soon ravage this lady, the man adjusting the lens swallowed hard, his pants tightening uncomfortably.
How long had it been? He realized he hadn't been with a woman for nearly half a year, too eager for career success.
No wonder...
He didn't think further and quickly walked to the bedside, positioning himself on the side that wouldn't block the camera's view, and reached out towards his desired destination.
However, he didn't know this might be the end of his life.
The sleeping lady suddenly opened her eyes, raised her hand, and grabbed his wrist. He felt a lightness throughout his body, and a hard impact against his back.
"?!" Snapping back to reality, he found himself sprawled on the floor. The lady had her left foot on his chest, holding his wrist in one hand. In the other, she somehow produced a carrot and, before he could make a sound, stuffed it into his mouth to silence him.
Without the inexplicable carrot, the man would have been so shocked he'd forgotten how to speak. The gentle lady possessed astonishing strength, and he was powerless to resist.
What was happening? Far beyond common sense, the man couldn't help but wonder if he was dreaming.
The pain immediately shattered his delusion. With a crisp sound akin to a biscuit breaking, the man's wrist was crushed by the lady's one-handed grip.
While doing this, the lady still calmly looked down at the man, her serenity instilling a sudden dread in him. He realized he had encountered a tough adversary, no, not just that, he might very well...
Die.
He didn't know that if Mearls truly wanted his life, it would have been over in an instant, and he wouldn't have had the chance to question if he was dreaming.
Dead or Alive.
Of course, suffering while alive would be more painful.
When the man invited Mearls to sit down for tea, Mearls wrote on paper, asking him: What is the meaning of your life?
The man said it was to achieve his life goals, which was career success.
Then, she wished him success.
Mearls merely crushed his two arms, took the camera's memory card, retrieved the phone, bank cards, and bag, tidied her clothes, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulled back the curtains, and disappeared, leaving the man to savor his living nightmare – struggling with two shattered arms, continuing to fight against fate.
How wonderful, wouldn't the story be more inspiring because of it? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
[Special Mission "Repeat Customer" Completed]
[Obtained: Lesser Ore x6]
Lesser Ore is a very important item among the sparkling collectibles. It can be used to [Enhance] weapons, permanently increasing their attack power.
So far, there are four ways to obtain Lesser Ore: [Collection], [Synthesis], completing dungeons, and completing special missions.
The sources are quite limited, and Mearls cherishes each one.
Now, let's go see the next inspiring story of a living person. httpδ:/m.kuAisugg.nět
A male university student whose family was destroyed in a fire, his parents died after failing to be rescued, and his sister survived but remained in a coma in a special care ward.
Those were the darkest days of his life. The day before, he was hit by a falling billboard while walking and admitted to the hospital. Unexpectedly, in the early morning of the next day, their home caught fire, and the entire family was rushed to the hospital, with only him left standing as he walked out.
The determined cause of the fire was a gas leak from the restaurant their family operated on the first floor. The fire was intense and also affected the neighbors. Although social aid and home insurance helped with immediate needs, after paying compensation and medical fees, he had little money left.
The ICU ward was too expensive. After being transferred to a special care ward, the financial burden remained extremely heavy.
He had borrowed from every relative and friend who could lend him money. He had to suspend his studies and work several jobs daily, living frugly. However, his earning speed couldn't keep up with the high daily medical expenses of the special care ward. The doctor kindly helped him delay a week, for which he was very grateful. But he knew in his heart that delaying was pointless. He had already advanced all the salary he could, and couldn't squeeze out any more money.
He thought he might have to sell his blood or organs.
Drinking poison to quench thirst, finally at his wit's end, it might be better to die with his sister. He had truly tried his best, and hoped his parents wouldn't blame him too much when they were reunited.
Delivery fees at night were higher than during the day. Late at night, he rode his delivery bicycle through streets and alleys. No one could see the blue exclamation mark that had been above his head for a long time, except for "players."
Under the double fatigue of continuous high-intensity work day and night, to avoid a figure suddenly appearing around a corner, he carelessly crashed into a railing and fell heavily to the ground, spilling all the takeout.
Fortunately, he didn't hit anyone, but the compensation for this delivery... He had no time to attend to his own injuries and immediately checked the damage to his bicycle.
How pitiable. "Player," no, Mearls looked at the blue exclamation mark above his head and walked over, offering him a handkerchief.
[Special Mission]
[Mission Name: Good Omen]
[Mission Content: A mysterious customer from the restaurant visits again...]
"Tha... Thank you." He recognized Mearls, who had visited their restaurant three months ago. Due to bad luck, she had visited twice but hadn't been served. So his parents treated her to a simple meal, and when she left, she left 20,000 Jennies. He chased after her to return the money.
Who could have imagined that fate was unpredictable? The restaurant was gone, his parents were gone, his sister was on the verge of death, and he worked desperately every day for his sister's medical expenses, barely scraping by.
His future was bleak, and his life was shrouded in darkness.
Seeing a former customer, he recalled his warm and lively home, the bustling crowds in the restaurant, while he was now alone, having lost almost everything.
After a months-long pause, as if his non-existent tear ducts had reactivated, he didn't take the handkerchief. He knelt on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
After his emotions finally subsided somewhat, he realized Mearls hadn't left and was patiently waiting in place, her expression calm.
He remembered his parents discussing this customer after Mearls left, saying she was probably from a rich family, with unusual demeanor and clothing. She was so beautiful, and her personality was considered quite amiable, but unfortunately, their family surely couldn't match her.
In that memory, the keyword "rich" sparked an idea in him. His voice trembled with excitement and nervousness, "So, so sorry, I... I have an impolite request."
"Our family burned down, and I... only have my sister left. She's still in the hospital, and the medical expenses can't be delayed any longer." He pressed his forehead to the ground, discarding his pride, and uttered words that were tantamount to begging, "Could... could you lend me money? I'm willing to do anything."
To gather the medical expenses, this wasn't the first time he had asked for help. He sadly and shamefully realized he was gradually getting used to begging, shamelessly approaching a stranger he'd met only once, using his tragedy as a bargaining chip to borrow money – it was essentially begging. He owed many people money and couldn't guarantee he could repay them.
In the unbearable silence, he looked up, confirming the other person hadn't left.
Mearls bent down, supporting herself with one hand on her knee, and handed him two 10,000 Jenny bills.
"..." He hesitated for a moment, then reached out and accepted the two bills.
Mearls pointed to his wound with her finger, then pointed to the spilled takeout by the bicycle. He finally came to his senses, took out his phone, called the shop to apologize and explain the situation.
He picked up the bicycle and packed the takeout boxes back onto the rear rack. The bicycle was fine, he just needed to reattach the loosened chain.
After doing so, he looked at Mearls, trying to discern something from her expression, but she remained expressionless. She pointed to his wound again, then pointed to a distance.
"..." So he followed Mearls.
The destination was the nearest hospital. Disinfection, suturing, bandaging, and treating his fall injuries, Mearls paid for his medical expenses.
Due to Mearls's silence and expressionless face, the topic of "borrowing money" became increasingly difficult to broach. Thinking of the only remaining family member lying in the hospital bed, after thanking Mearls again for her help, he nervously brought up the loan again, "It's too late today. Tomorrow... tomorrow I can apply for visitation, my sister..."
His sister had severe burns, her entire body wrapped in bandages, making her unrecognizable.
The thought made his eyes well up with tears.
Mearls took out a notepad, wrote two lines on it, and then showed it to him.
The paper read: I can hire you as my chef, but before deciding, a test is needed.
"Ah... Okay, okay, no problem!" As if grasping a lifeline, he nodded repeatedly, "What do you need me to do?"
Anything but murder and arson.
Mearls wrote another note and returned 100,000 Jennies to him.
The test written on the paper was for him to make fried rice, which seemed both simple and difficult. He clutched the note, feeling somewhat bewildered.
But he had no other choice, didn't he?
And Mearls had already left.
[Special Mission "Good Omen" Completed]
[Obtained: Lesser Ore x8]