CHAPTER 6
(In Rooke's POV)
"So, you have to use your right foot, eh~" The blondie called Shalnark said cheerily.
Rooke sweated. If there was a classification of people who she couldn't stand, it would be those who always smiled despite the situation. You can't really tell what they're thinking.
Earlier, Phinks had filled in the other Spiders on the situation, which led to Rooke feeling like she was a display at a freakshow. She felt awkward, sitting and leaning against the wall for support, while nine strangers, two of which were her customers, stared at her.
The pinkette spoke up. "I can sew her foot back, but I need her ankle joints exposed."
Exposed? Rooke thought worriedly. What does she mean, exposed?!
Feitan conjured his sword and walked towards Rooke menacingly. "I'll handle that."
"Are you..." Rooke inched away from the short man. "... going to cut my foot off!?"
There was a sinister glint in Feitan's eyes, as Phinks started chuckling. Rooke glared at the eyebrowless man. "Shut up, you bas-"
There was a 'swip!' and the next thing Rooke knew, blood was spurting out of her footless right leg like nobody's business. It. Hurt. Like. Shit.
Rooke grit her teeth and tried her best to hold in the scream. "Fuck! You... asshole," she gasped weakly at the short guy.
"At least he didn't add excessive pain," the Frankenstein commented. "You're lucky."
"Is he a sadist?" The bartender asked, as the pinkette knelt down besides Rooke, transmuting her aura into nen stitches.
The samurai nodded. "Feitan's our torturer."
Rooke shuddered. "Alright," she sought to change the topic, "what wish do you guys want granted, anyway?"
"We need to remove nen from a friend's body," a bespectacled woman answered. "It's very strong."
Rooke nodded understandingly. "So... What's your sacrifice?"
"Sacrifice?" The Troupe echoed.
They don't know jack shit about the piano, do they? Rooke sighed. "The reason why 'wishes' can be granted is because you have to pay for them. Your sacrifice is converted to the fulfillment of your wish through playing a melody on the piano."
"So, in other words, we need a sacrifice." A bandaged-up man finished off.
"Yeah," Rooke nodded. "In your case, you'd probably need to sacrifice something extremely important. Say, one or two human organs, maybe?"
"How will we know that you're not lying?" Phinks said, more than asked.
"Do I look like I'm lying?" The bartender scoffed. "If you doubt me so much, play a tune on the piano and see for yourself. Don't blame me when you become officially spineless."
A vein appeared on Phinks' forehead. "Brat, is that an insult?"
"Wait," Shalnark cut in. "Seeing as it is a converter of sorts, what if the piano has excess supply of the 'input' from its previous usage?"
"Trust me, it doesn't," Rooke replied. "I just used it just now."
The Spiders glanced at each other as Machi finished up the stitching.
After a moment's silence, Phinks started the conversation again. "I say we take all the goods first, then figure out the sacrifice later. We'll keep her with us," he pointed at Rooke.
From the wall clock on the opposite side of the storage room, Rooke saw that it was already 12:30 p.m. She was going to be late. "No can do," she cut in. "I have to leave by 1 p.m."
The Spiders watched her closely. "No," Feitan said chillingly. "You will stay. This is not negotiation. This is an order."
Sighing, Rooke abruptly stood up, setting her left foot in a split second. Instinctively Machi wrapped her in her nen threads. "Don't move," she ordered.
"You guys are a really interesting bunch, you know," Rooke started. "Unfortunately, I really have to leave soon."
"We'll kill you," Feitan replied. Shalnark readied his antenna.
"Fortunately," the bartender continued, "I do know how to use nen, too."
Suddenly, black swirled haphazardly and swiftly around Rooke, bringing strong, deafening winds into the once still store room, tearing apart even Machi's nen threads. The kunoichi jumped back just in time to dodge the black dragon's sharp scales, and before the Spiders knew it, it had exited the storeroom, bringing the bartender along with it.
"She's gone," Bonolenov said, matter-of-factly. Phinks whistled.
Machi sighed. "We'll probably see her again."
"Hn?"
"Instinct."
Feitan looked at what was left of the entrance. The doorframes had multiple slices where the dragon had cut it, probably due to the scales and all. "We transport the goods," he said, after a while.
(Normal POV)
That afternoon, the Troupe finished bringing all desirable goods to their new hideout, leaving nen copies behind in the ship (courtesy of Kortopi) just before 2 p.m. Their progress was fast, given that there was an insane number of goods they'd wanted, given that this was planned out by a big shot who probably pulled strings to get certain valuably rare objects. Anyway, they had nothing to worry about - the auction was probably postponed, since Orenaldo, dead or alive, was still stuck in some room in their hideout.
When they were done, most Troupe members chose to sit back and relax in the hideout, but there were some who went about gathering what they thought they'd need for a sacrifice. These members were namely Franklin and Shizuku. After flipping a coin, Bonolenov and Shalnark were tasked with packing the Spiders' late lunch, and the rest pretty much chilled out for the afternoon.
It was about an hour later that the four members returned, two of which had interesting news.
"Everyone!" Shalnark called out. "Lunch is here! And we have interesting news, too."
Bonolenov handed out the takeaway boxes, and set a copy of the afternoon newspaper on a wooden crate. "Someone else was murdered spectacularly. The President of this country, it seems."
"He was... eaten to death?" Phinks squinted at the small print.
"Seems like it," Shalnark replied. "There was a voting system too, but this time during a parliamentary session. Pretty interesting, if you ask me."
Machi opened her packet of noodles. There was something decidedly... off about these murders. "When was the murder?"
"Around 1 to 1:30 p.m.," Franklin filled in. "Also, it seems military forces from the neighbouring city, Aluris, are here to make up for its defence. These people are doing pretty big stuff."
"How do you eat someone to death? They literally bit his flesh off?" Phinks wondered aloud, before taking a bite of his food.
"Phinks." Machi sighed. "We're eating."
"Says here they set starving rats on the man," Shizuku said.
"Shizuku, not you too," Machi muttered. "Let's drop the 'method of murder' topic for now, okay?"
"I didn't think you'd be scared of rats, Machi," Nobunaga smirked.
He received a glare as cold as ice in return, and shut up.
Feitan took his box and sat on a nearby crate. "Did any of you see the bartender?"
The four Spiders shook their heads. "We only managed to get two adults, for the sacrifice," Franklin said. "The bartender is nowhere in sight."
"Speaking of the bartender," Machi interrupted. "I have a feeling she's connected to these murders somehow."
"If that's the case, that means that she's working with someone," Kalluto said. "The nen ability used at the Plaza seemed vastly different from what she did just now."
"Or a group," Bonolenov said. "There were a group of escaped test subjects, right?"
"Must be a highly organised group," Nobunaga commented.
Feitan briefly considered the new information. The bartender escaped at 12:30 p.m., saying she had needed to leave by 1 p.m. This probably gave her enough time to murder the President. But something didn't quite fit right. If she was working in a group, someone else in the group could've just executed the murder in her absence. Why had she had to leave?
Then he realised it. The bartender had something that the murders needed. "Phinks, Franklin, Nobunaga, Machi and Kalluto," he closed his now empty container. "We'll be visiting the bartender when you're finished eating."
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