The waves rhythmically lapped against the rocks, interspersed with the clear, loud cries of seagulls.
The melody of nature, returning to its simplest form, easily soothed the soul.
Mors woke to the sound of the waves, the bed beneath her still rocking. After a moment of daze, she realized she was no longer on land.
Ah, she remembered the last game she played before falling asleep with Hisoka and Feitan was "Princess Maker."
"..." She ran her hand through her hair, a cursory comb-through, and then Mors got out of bed and pushed open the door.
The sunlight that greeted her was a bit blinding, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes. The salty sea breeze, the sounds of the waves and seagulls enveloped her with greater clarity, vivid and rich, like watercolor paints not yet diluted with water. kuAiδugg
"Morning, Mors," Hisoka's bright voice greeted her.
A floral shirt, shorts, sunglasses perched on his head – Hisoka was dressed in standard beach vacation attire.
"The scenery here is nice, isn't it?" Hisoka took off his sunglasses and placed them on Mors's head, smiling. "It's a surprise I prepared for you."
"..." Mors was a little lost in thought, her gaze shifting to the other person beside Hisoka.
Feitan, as always, wore his black cloak that covered most of his body, a completely different style from Hisoka's relaxed vacation look.
Another person walked over; it was Machi.
Machi had changed into a bikini, but she still wore a long jacket, concealing her figure.
"How are you feeling, Mors?" Although her expression was impassive, the concern in her voice was discernible.
"..." Mors's mouth was slightly agape, a little confused about the current situation.
Why was Machi here?
Machi wasn't here when she fell asleep.
This was a bit unreasonable. Could it be a dream?
Mors raised her hand and pinched her right cheek. The pain confirmed she wasn't dreaming.
"Are you still groggy from sleep?" Hisoka reached out and stroked her head. "You're not dreaming."
"Mors," Feitan commanded with unquestionable authority, "say the names of the three of us."
"..." Mors grew even more bewildered.
She looked around, and seeing that the three before her were not joking, she hesitated for a moment. She pressed her hand to her neck, [wearing] a vocal device, and from left to right, she said their names, "Machi. Feitan. Hisoka."
For some reason, after she spoke their names, all three of them visibly relaxed more than before. Even Feitan, who always had a cold expression, had his sharp gaze soften.
"What's wrong?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Nothing, we just wanted to see if you were really groggy and couldn't recognize people," Hisoka said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, let's go see how the boss's fishing is going."
"...The boss?" She thought of Machi, who shouldn't have been there. "Why is the boss here too? Is the Troupe having an event?"
"Hahaha, do we always need an event to gather?" Hisoka led her towards the other side of the ship's railing. "It's just that we're all free and want to hang out. It's that simple."
Sea fishing, common methods include stationary fishing, drift fishing, and trolling.
Among these, "drift fishing" refers to anglers staying on the boat, letting the boat drift with the waves, while the bait and hooks also drift in the water, luring fish. In simple terms, it's leaving it to fate, sitting and waiting for fish to bite.
Wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt and a bucket hat, Chrollo looked like a seasoned angler.
Unfortunately, the fishing bucket beside him was empty; he hadn't caught a single fish.
"It seems this area isn't very suitable for fishing," Chrollo remarked.
This guy wasn't looking for the reason within himself at all.
The result was that Mors threw a high-voltage electric prod into the sea, and today's extra meal arrived at everyone's table as promised.
Hisoka, with his encyclopedic knowledge, discarded fish that were unpalatable or difficult to prepare. Feitan, the torture expert, utilized his knife skills honed during interrogations (with the clean kitchen knives Mors provided, which had never cut human flesh) to slice the fish into thin pieces. Mors, the treasure trove, utilized the ample storage of her game inventory to provide the other essential ingredients for the hot pot.
Machi was pulled aside by Mors and couldn't participate because, according to the widely understood fanon settings Mors was familiar with, any dish handled by Machi would inevitably turn into culinary disaster.
Chrollo, the spider head, wasn't much use here, merely adding an extra pair of chopsticks at mealtime.
The freshest fish was the most delicious.
Picking up a slice of fish so thin it was almost translucent, a quick dip in the boiling hot pot broth was enough to cook it. It was ready to eat.
Tender and smooth, with a springy texture, it was impeccable in every sense.
Not only was the fish delicious, but the current personnel configuration also represented the highest average appearance of the Troupe, a standard that could directly accompany a meal.
After joining the Troupe, today was probably Mors's most spirited day.
Mors excitedly added some of her most treasured sparkling ingredients into the soup: [Sparkling Cabbage][Sparkling Potatoes][Sparkling Onions][Sparkling Radishes][Sparkling Mushrooms], and so on.
"..." x4
The other four watched in silence as she washed air in the sink, chopped air on the cutting board, put air into the hot pot, picked up air with chopsticks, and chewed and swallowed air.
In reality, apart from the fish slices, there were no other ingredients in the hot pot.
"..." x4
Although there were still some broken parts, thinking optimistically, she could at least recognize who was who, and most of it was normal... right?
As Mors ate, she finally felt something was off. It was because everyone else was only eating fish and not touching any vegetables.
She spent several minutes mustering the courage to pick up a piece of cabbage and place it in Machi's bowl, watching Machi with nervous anticipation.
"..." Machi had to perform a pantomime. "Mmm, delicious."
Mors's nervous expression immediately eased, and she nodded, visibly pleased.
"..." Machi hesitated to speak further.
"Mors," Hisoka called out to get Mors's attention, "I'm here too!"
Seeing Hisoka's enthusiastic display, Mors deliberately picked up a piece of each ingredient and placed it in his bowl.
"Wow, so much," judging by Mors's actions, Hisoka could tell she had picked up quite a few ingredients. The last placement of her chopsticks was above the bowl, indicating the "ingredients" were piled higher than the rim. "Thank you."
"Be careful not to eat too much," Feitan interjected coldly.
He stood up, placed his bowl full of fish in front of Mors, and then took Mors's empty bowl. "Don't just eat nutritionless things, eat more meat."
"..." Hisoka's pupils dilated.
"..." Machi no longer wanted to say anything.
"..." Chrollo was focused on eating meat.
Mors... Mors hesitated and picked up a piece of air to give to Feitan as a return gift. Before she could place it in his bowl, Feitan grabbed her wrist and bit onto her chopsticks.
After swallowing the "ingredient," Feitan warned her, "Don't do it again."
Returning to her seat, Feitan pointed to the bowl in front of Mors with his chin, crossed his arms, and stared at her. "Eat. Why aren't you eating? What are you unhappy about?"
Forcing someone to eat what he gave her was almost like saying, "This fish is so good, it's a blessing," which was too much like the funny videos Mors had watched in her "real world."
Mors couldn't help but lower her head, silently laughing.
The trembling of her shoulders made it hard for others to discern whether she was crying or laughing.
"..." x4
"Are you okay?" Machi, sitting next to Mors, asked first.
Mors looked up, a faint smile lingering on her lips, and shook her head.
She glanced at Feitan, then buried her head in eating the meat.
During the meal, Hisoka gave her another slice, gently reminding her to eat slowly.
...
As night fell, the romantic sea view of the day disappeared with the setting sun. The sea breeze turned cold, the water turned black as ink, and in the distance, it was pitch black. Apart from the scattered stars in the sky, nothing could be seen. It was as if the entire world was inside a giant beast's belly, with only a temporarily surviving ship remaining.
Every sway of the ship, as if from the waves, or perhaps from some marine creature probing from below the water, seemed poised to capsize the vessel and swallow everyone whole.
While feeling the subtle terror of nature's unknown, Mors, standing on the deck, felt a faint temptation.
Jump.
What would happen if she jumped?
She really wanted to know.
She really wanted to know if she would be entangled and torn apart by unseen creatures.
Her grip on the railing tightened, and the more she thought about it, the more excited she became.
"Mors," Hisoka called her from behind.
Hisoka had just won a coin toss against Feitan, so it was Hisoka who left the cabin and came to Mors's side.
"Did you have a good time today?" Hisoka pulled Mors into his embrace. Mors's body temperature was a little lower than his after being out in the sea breeze. "I think you seemed exceptionally happy today."
"...Mm," Mors [wore] a vocal device. "It feels like a dream."
It was too unreal.
She would wake up soon, right?
Hisoka chatted with her sporadically, probing indirectly, and discovered that she had completely forgotten the events of the past few days.
She had completely forgotten the "spider-man" game, the ten billion yen income, the few days when Chrollo and Machi had just arrived, and the time Illumi had visited.
Poor Feitan, all that ten billion yen was given for nothing. (Not.)
Seeing that Mors had no other major issues, Chrollo and Machi departed the next day.
While organizing her game inventory, Mors [took out] her phone and saw Illumi's message about "picking up goods." She then bid farewell to Hisoka and Feitan to complete the follow-up transaction with Illumi.
The transaction involved a replica of the Kurta clan's eye serum.
The Scarlet Eyes only appeared when one was emotionally agitated; their color reverted to normal when they calmed down. This eye serum, however, could maintain the Scarlet Eyes for 24 hours, alleviating concerns about unstable states due to emotional changes during that period.
Mors's initial acquisition of the Scarlet Eyes involved a three-part transaction with Illumi: first, assisting with the Scarlet Eyes transplant surgery; second, replicating the Kurta clan's eye serum; and third, mass-producing 999 bottles to be given to Mors.
The replica of the Kurta clan's eye serum had undergone clinical trials without any side effects, but its intended efficacy was uncertain – this could only be personally tested by Mors, who possessed the Scarlet Eyes.
The duration and potency needed to be guaranteed.
Of course, Mors chose to be alone for the trial period of at least 24 hours. Illumi could go anywhere, as long as he didn't appear before her.
After Mors confirmed receipt, the next time she met Illumi would be when he handed her the 999 bottles of "Kurta clan eye serum replica."
Beyond that, there should be no further need to meet.
So long, and thanks for all the fish.
After disembarking from the airship and exiting the airport, Mors saw Feitan at the waiting area.
This time, Feitan had won the coin toss against Hisoka.
As Mors walked up to Feitan, raindrops began to dot her nose – it had started raining.
Feitan pulled out his usual black umbrella from his cloak and handed it to Mors.
Mors tilted her head in confusion.
It was known that the Troupe, or the Zoldycks, or most Nen users, almost never carried umbrellas when it rained, as if it were a standard for the strong. Feitan, too, liked to carry an umbrella not for protection from the rain, but as a weapon to obscure his opponents' vision; the umbrella handle was actually a sword, and the umbrella contained other mechanisms to attack opponents.
"Try it once," Feitan pressed a spot on the umbrella handle, and it "popped" open automatically, revealing a large black skull pattern prominently displayed in the center of the dark red umbrella fabric.
As Mors reached for the handle, Feitan grasped her arm, making her bend down.
A kiss, akin to a bite, landed on her lips.
The fully opened red umbrella shielded their upper bodies. Passersby noticed nothing; those without umbrellas hurried along, while those with umbrellas complained about the heavy downpour, all lowering their umbrellas.
Hisoka had practically given up on teaching Mors to say his name, but Feitan remained insistent to this day.
Just as Feitan didn't understand why Mors was unwilling to say his name, Mors didn't understand why Feitan was so determined to make her learn.
Feitan was categorized as a manipulator with the trait of "capriciousness," wasn't he? His interests should come and go quickly, shouldn't they?
It was a brief kiss; their lips parted, and Feitan still held her arm, his gaze fixed on her lips.
"Why not."
"..."
The raindrops quickly covered the ground, and then the wind blew the raindrops everywhere. The shower was brief but fierce, no wonder even people with umbrellas couldn't help but complain.
Feitan's hair was soaked by the rain, his eyelashes dripped with water, and the water traced down his ears and into his neck.
The sunshine had completely vanished; the gloomy sky looked like nightfall.
"..." x2
Actually, Mors wasn't entirely a block of wood.
The rain repeatedly moistened her lips. Unsure of how many times, she finally moved her lips and asked in lip-sync, "And then?"
"And then?" Rainwater fell into Feitan's eyes, but he didn't blink.
"After collecting all the achievements in the game, will you still play it?"
The curtain of rain seemed to envelop the entire world, nowhere was not drenched. Mors's expression was somber; her soft hair drooped down, completely wet, and her clothes were also soaked, clinging to her.
"Don't underestimate me," Feitan raised his hand and cupped her throat. "Do you think I'm someone who is easily satisfied, Mors?"
"No matter who you sleep with, you'll only call my name at the moment of climax..."
"At least, it has to be to this extent."
Moments later, a kiss, mixed with the cold rain, descended.