NenMaster
patreon
Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2024-11-26 22:09:41 +0000 UTC"I'm here."
Machi slowly lowered the thread in her hand.
The gesture alone made it clear that the person outside was someone she knew.
Even so, she didn’t drop her guard entirely. After all, there was always the possibility that someone had disguised themselves or used a hostage to approach her.
In the perilous world of Meteor City, anything could happen, and no amount of caution was ever too much.
"If you’re really there, open the door. It’s me. No one’s disguised as me, and I’m not being held hostage. Proof? I’ve got a moron swordsman here who can’t even kill a chicken with his blade."
“Find me a live chicken in Meteor City, and I’ll kill it right in front of you!”
“Oh, so you admit you couldn’t kill one if it were here.”
“You’ve never even seen a dead chicken, you idiot! What kind of nonsense are you spouting?!”
The rough male voice outside seemed well-versed in how to prove his identity, though his choice of words had apparently annoyed his companion. The two of them had started bickering right outside the door.
Hearing the familiar tone and argument, Machi finally dropped her tension completely and stepped forward to open the door.
"Stop it, Uvogin," she said calmly. "Come in, Nobunaga."
The two entered, still muttering insults under their breath.
"There's someone else here?!"
As soon as they walked in, they noticed that Machi wasn’t the only one in the room.
A young man was craning his neck to curiously examine the newcomers.
"So this is Uvogin and Nobunaga in their younger days?"
That distinctive explosion of black hair and the wandering swordsman’s outfit made them unmistakable.
Morin recognized them immediately—these two matched the descriptions from Chrollo’s recollections of the early days of the Phantom Troupe. Their unique features were hard to miss.
Uvogin had a dark complexion, a striking black afro, and a towering, muscular frame. While he wasn’t as heavily built as he would become in the future, he already had a sturdy physique with powerful arms and legs.
Nobunaga, on the other hand, had a starkly different appearance. His complexion was fair, his facial features were rather delicate, and his hair was tied in a neat, straight ponytail. At this age, he looked almost like a refined pretty boy. It was hard to imagine how he’d transform into the scruffy, disheveled swordsman of later years.
Morin’s first impression of the pair was clear: time’s cruelty was evident even in Meteor City.
"Who’s this guy, Machi?”
Uvogin, casually picking his nose, pointed at Morin without much concern.
He didn’t seem particularly wary of Morin, either. If this guy could stay in Machi’s room unharmed, and if Machi felt safe enough to open the door with him still here, that was enough proof for Uvogin.
He wasn’t trusting Morin—he was trusting Machi’s sense of danger.
Since Machi thought Morin was fine, Uvogin didn’t see a problem. Despite his rough appearance, he was surprisingly perceptive.
Nobunaga, however, was a bit more cautious. He scrutinized Morin from head to toe, rubbing his chin and thinking grudgingly:
“He’s even better-looking than I was at that age.”
"His name is Morin. He’s staying with me for now," Machi explained, then gestured towards the two newcomers.
"Uvogin, Nobunaga."
Though her introduction was brief, the fact that Machi bothered to make one at all signaled that the two sides could trust each other.
"What are you guys doing at my place?"
Machi’s tone carried a hint of annoyance. She wasn’t thrilled about them interrupting her study of Nen.
"You’ve got some nerve asking that."
Uvogin, who had been inspecting Morin with vague interest, turned his attention back to Machi.
"Didn’t we agree a few days ago to hit up the landfill today and scavenge for supplies?"
His tone was full of dissatisfaction. "You’re late, Machi!"
Machi paused, pressing a hand to her forehead. "...Oh, right. I think we did talk about that."
She vaguely remembered the agreement now.
A few days ago, she’d promised to go scavenging with Uvogin and Nobunaga. But she’d completely forgotten after being thrown off by Morin’s antics.
As a result, she hadn’t shown up on time.
And for Uvogin—someone who prided himself on punctuality—lateness and flaking were unforgivable.
"We were worried something might’ve happened to you," Nobunaga chimed in, trying to smooth things over. "You’ve never been late or broken a promise before, so we came to check on you."
Machi shook her head. "That’s my bad."
Nobunaga waved her off with a smile. "Don’t worry about it. We were just concerned, that’s all."
Uvogin puffed out his chest and nodded along.
"Thanks," Machi said softly, feeling a small warmth in her chest.
"Alright, if you’re fine, then let’s go."
Uvogin, ever impatient, headed for the door.
"If we wait any longer, all the good stuff will be gone. Today’s the day the garbage trucks drop everything off. Tons of people are going to be there, so we’ve got to move fast."
As he spoke, he glanced over at Morin.
"Hey, you’re Morin, right? I’ve got an extra set of protective gear lying around. It might not fit perfectly, but it’ll do for now."
Uvogin seemed naturally friendly, already treating Morin as part of the group now that Machi had vouched for him.
"Uh..."
Morin blinked and asked, "What exactly are we looking for at the landfill?"
"Supplies for living, obviously!"
Uvogin gave him a look that screamed, How can someone be this clueless? He then shot Machi a glance as if to say, This guy you brought back doesn’t seem too sharp.
Machi smirked slightly, crossing her arms and watching with mild amusement.
"Hey, what’s this?"
Nobunaga, who had been quietly observing, suddenly noticed something.
