After hearing Ura plead for a chance, Auren simply shrugs.
"You'll get your chance. I won't break my word," he responds calmly.
"Huh?!" Goreinu shouts. "He just insulted your country, said it's worse than Meteor City, which I just had the opportunity to visit, and now you like him? I can't believe there's a place worse than that, even Glam Gas Land looks like heaven compared to it. You know what—whatever. I'll just shut up. I don't understand a single thing you're all talking about anyway."
Might be better that way... silly ape.
"I agree with you, brother," Ura chimes in with a bright smile. "I like him too! Please give us a chance, Hunter Auren. I'll promise you won't regret it."
"Fine," Auren replies. "Let's take care of business first. After that... you decide how you want to proceed. But if you tell me anything less than the whole truth—including your full backstory and connection to Pariston—it won't be enough."
"We'll tell you, I promise," Ura answers immediately, without hesitation.
"We'll see..." Auren mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
It takes nearly an hour to reach their destination—a small industrial zone on the outskirts of the city, far from Yorknew's bustling center. The traffic slows them down considerably.
This district isn't so bad. Looks a little run-down, sure, but I don't feel danger in the air. Just... businesses. Lots of them. Most of them are medium-sized and unknown, no large corporations.
Eventually, they arrive at a modest, unremarkable office building tucked into the end of a quiet side street. It's only two stories tall, but it is rather large, enough for hundreds of people to work there.
Auren steps out of the car with confidence, ready to finally inspect his possessions. Goreinu follows him, still wearing that same look of confusion.
"Don't worry," Auren whispers, wrapping an arm around Goreinu's shoulder. "If they try anything shady, just defend yourself. Leave the rest to me, alright?"
"Sure," Goreinu replies with a calm nod. "I like your confidence. Honestly? You're becoming more and more of a monster. It's strange... but you feel oddly reliable. I wonder why you are even paying me sometimes...."
"Don't sell yourself short, let's get to work," Auren says, reaffirming him.
They head inside. From the outside, the building looks abandoned—some boarded-up entrances, cracked windows. Nothing that would attract much attention.
They move through the ground floor, which is dusty and almost empty, until they reach a set of stairs leading downstairs.
Descending them, they find themselves in a spacious garage. Auren furrows his brow—he hadn't noticed any vehicle entrances on the outside. In the distance, he spots a sealed security door that likely leads outside, allowing for cars to enter.
The security is good, and the building is well hidden. It seems they know what they are doing. After all, they are hoarding items worth billions down here.
However, what grabs his attention are the rows of towering industrial shelves, packed top to bottom with crates and containers. Nearby, forklifts and other warehouse machinery sit idle.
Even more noticeable, though, are the half-dozen armed guards stationed throughout the space.
The moment they spot Auren and Goreinu, the guards begin approaching. One of them eyes Goreinu and Auren and then laughs.
"Our client brought his little brother with him?"
Before the laughter can spread, Ura steps in and slaps the man hard. The back of her hand crashes into his face with enough force to send him flying nearly ten meters, skidding across the concrete.
"Shut the fuck up!" she yells, her voice ringing out like a whip.
The other guards instantly tense up, startled by her sudden violence.
"Excuse my subordinate's foolishness," Ura says to Auren, bowing deeply.
"Whatever. I don't give a damn about your guards' manners, as long as my possessions are safe and secure," Auren replies disinterestedly. "Lead the way. I want to see what you've got for me."
"Follow me, please," Ura says, already walking toward one corner of the warehouse.
Auren's gaze sweeps over the industrial shelves, stacked with crates, boxes, and containers of all shapes and sizes.
That's all mine? Not bad!
"These are all your possessions," Ura announces proudly. "Brother, grab the documents so we can walk our treasured client through the list."
"Give me a second..." Oron replies, sounding annoyed, as he heads off toward a small sectioned-off office space tucked into the center of the warehouse, next to a large support pillar. It's modest, filled with desks, computers, printers, and scattered office supplies.
He returns moments later—this time sprinting back with a folder in hand.
"Now," Ura says, straightening her posture. "Please take a look at what we've acquired in your name—items that took us thousands of hours to track down over the last few months! It might not seem like it, but hundreds of people, including dozens of Nen users, worked hard to acquire these for you."
Finally... let's take a look, then.
Oron hops into a forklift and begins lowering crates and containers from the towering shelves, setting them carefully on the ground floor one by one.
Meanwhile, Ura leads Auren and Goreinu toward the first container. She removes three heavy locks using a massive ring of keys she carries at her hip. The metal clinks loudly with each click.
Tight security.
"I think it's best if we start with this one," she says, smiling sweetly. "I love to start with a bang, and I figured you'll be satisfied."
As she opens it, Auren's eyes immediately light up.
"There they are—my Ben's Knives," he says with a rare smile.
"Interesting," he murmurs, stepping forward to inspect them more closely. As he looks over the familiar shapes, he instinctively activates Gyo, watching the subtle glow of Nen shimmer around them.
They're beautiful—each one unique, varying in shape, design, and size. None of them look like conventional knives. Despite their grim history, Auren can't help but appreciate the craftsmanship, the quiet menace they exude.
He carefully inspects each knife, counting them with care, feeling the Aura surrounding each one.
With all of these... I now own exactly sixty Ben's Knives. Along with the ones I left back home, the ones stashed on the airship, and the one in my pocket, of course. I guess I'm being childish... but for some reason, that makes me ridiculously happy. It's addictive. I guess human people are all born collectors. If they find something they like, they want to possess as much of that as possible, especially if they have a lot of cash to spend.
"Auren, is everything okay?" Goreinu asks from behind. "You've been staring at them for over thirty minutes."
Really? It's been that long?
"Everything's fine," Auren says, his eyes still locked on the knives. "You've done a great job collecting them, Ura. Maybe there's still hope for a decent business relationship after all."
"I'm honored," Ura replies.
He finally turns his gaze toward the remaining crates.
"Show me the rest of the items. Judging from the volume... I assume they were far cheaper to acquire than my beloved knives?"
"Of course," Ura says with a small nod. "However, we regret to inform you that the price of Ben's Knives has now skyrocketed to over 200 million Jenny. Mostly because of you—buying up so many has made them rarer. Most people who still own them truly value them now. Opportunists hold onto them, knowing the price will continue to rise. However, a few individuals are simply not interested in selling them, so I'm afraid it will be difficult to expand your collection at this point."
"I expect we can maybe buy a few more over the next years, provided you are willing to spend such a ridiculous price. Realistically, these should only be worth around 5 million. Maybe up to 50 for the truly rare ones. Looking at the current prices, they are now 40 times as expensive. It's frightening how the market changes if there is such a low supply."
"Do you have leads on more knives? Even those people who are unwilling to sell?" Auren asks, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Depending on the situation, I might be open to negotiating... personally... and up close. I'm also willing to use less... amicable measures to get what I want!"
I'm not above robbing them... or hiring someone to do it for me. At worst, I can maybe take something that belongs to them... say a wife... and then offer an exchange. No.... If possible, I want to avoid doing these things. Maybe as a last resort. I'll use money first.
"Some," Ura answers. "We're still in negotiation with a few collectors and art investors. There's about 800 million Jenny left in your budget. I'm glad you're pleased so far, but please—take a look at the other items. Personally, I think we've found some real masterpieces you might enjoy. Tracking down Ben's Knives was relatively straightforward—they're a known item. Even amateurs can do it. These other pieces, though... they were much harder to find. We even got some of them for such low prices that you might as well call them free."
She pauses briefly, then adds, "Pariston hired a few Temp Hunters and Amateur Hunters capable of using Gyo. We sent them to large flea markets and oddity shops across the world. Some of these items cost less than one percent of what we spent hiring the associations and covering their travels."
Without another word, Auren moves to the next crate—and opens it.
Let's see what we got here...
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