I'm talking about one, no, leak, all, all, kill, light, oh."
Rimo enunciated each word carefully, and his gentle smile twisted into something wicked. Angels and demons, beauty and terror, turned in an instant.
"Wait······"
Jeff's pupils constricted in horror as he stammered, but before he could react further, the entire brigade moved in unison. Nen-charged strikes faster than the eye could follow dismembered him instantly.
"Is this Nen from the outside world? Feels… weak," Uvogin muttered, shaking his hand in dissatisfaction.
"Weak indeed," Rimo replied, walking past him.
"Okay, with that settled, we're almost done here. Time to head back," Rimo stretched and said casually.
"Oh~? Rimo, don't you want to loot their belongings? We could be a band of thieves! If we leave empty-handed, our reputation will suffer."
Chrollo approached, a playful smirk on his face.
"No, these belongings are merely a test I set up for Nosla," Rimo said, eyes flickering with unreadable light.
"020 test? What are you planning, Rimo?" Chrollo asked, touching his chin.
"Plan? Hardly. Let's wait for Nothra to pass my little test."
It was a haphazard arrangement, barely a plan, but Rimo had no intention of explaining it further. Whether Nosla was qualified or not remained to be seen.
After finishing their work, Rimo gathered some of the medical supplies. Under Machi's precise and skilled hands, the brigade's wounds from the fight were sutured and bandaged.
Uvogin and the others, stubborn as always, tried to insist they were fine—but Rimo's subtle threats with a knife quickly convinced them to cooperate.
During the process, Rimo activated [Circle] again, sweeping the mountain to catch all the stray threats that had slipped through. When satisfied, he left the remaining cleanup to Nothra.
Descending the mountain, Rimo and his group saw that Nosla had prepared a large contingent at the foot.
As they approached, every member of the Nosla family lined up in two rows, forming a formal passage. As Rimo stepped forward, they simultaneously squatted slightly, hands on their thighs, bowing and shouting in unison: "You have worked hard!"
At the end of the human wall, Bart appeared, bowing deeply. Behind him, a luxurious vehicle awaited with open doors.
Rimo raised an eyebrow, impressed. Nosla clearly understood the etiquette of power—even childhood gang hierarchy. Though Wright Nosla was absent, likely managing Fanobi territory elsewhere, the show of respect was not lost on the brigade.
Though young, these fighters were no strangers to hardship, having just emerged from Meteor Street. Still, the gesture made them feel valued. Rimo acknowledged it with quiet approval; the Nosla family's gift was accepted without hesitation.
They passed through the human-wall passage, boarded the car, and left. Only after their departure did the Nosla family rise, beginning to methodically dismantle the Fanobi base under Bart's command.
Upon returning to Villa No. 21 in Cape Chencora, Wright Nosla greeted them at the door:
"Welcome back, my lords. I have prepared a feast to express my gratitude."
Rimo patted Wright on the shoulder. "No thanks necessary. This is merely our agreement."
"Nevertheless, it is thanks to your patronage that Konion may serve under Lord Rimo. This transaction benefits us greatly—please accept it," Wright said with unbroken respect.
Rimo nodded: "Very well. I'll accept."
"No trouble—it is our honor," Wright replied, guiding the brigade into the restaurant.
Inside, Nion was idly eating a piece of strawberry cake. Spotting Rimo, he ran over and clutched his thigh.
"Master, you said you'd tell Nion a story! Will you?"
Rimo scratched his head, slightly embarrassed. "Stories come at bedtime. When you go to bed, I'll tell them."
Nion linked his pinky finger to Rimo's: "Master, we hook!"
"Alright, Master and Nion hook," Rimo replied, smiling. He patted Nion's head. "Eat up first. You need to grow strong."
After finishing, Rimo began preparing a training plan for Nion. Though young, Nion's potential Nen aptitude suggested it was worth waiting for his physique to develop before initiating [Reading].
"I might cry when I finally start training him," Rimo thought mischievously, watching Nion return gleefully to his cake.
Machi, observing the interaction, pouted.
Then Nion, mid-bite, seemed to recall something. He carefully placed another piece of strawberry cake in Machi's hand.
"Why?" he asked softly. Machi, usually cold toward strangers—even children—was momentarily surprised.
"This… this cake is for you, sister. You can eat it; it's delicious," Nion said, looking at her expectantly.
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