Chapter 173: The Curled Dagger
With Minis serving as a bloody warning, no one else dared to challenge Ronin's
authority.
He settled into a routine. He created a Shadow Clone to return to the surface
and update Muherr on the findings, while his main body remained in the depths.
Contacting Kurapika required more effort. Since the Shadow Clone couldn't enter
the game to deliver messages, Ronin relied on their pre-arranged weekly
check-in.
Ronin had purposely withheld the news of the second Kurta branch. He didn't want
Kurapika to get his hopes up only for them to be crushed. But now that the site
was confirmed, the presence of a "Pure" Kurta was essential for the
investigation.
Kurapika's inherited instincts were more refined than Ronin's "grafted"
memories. He would see things Ronin might miss.
Day 5 of the Ruins Exploration.
Ronin successfully reached Kurapika via the game's external communication
channel. He briefed him on the Mahavi ruins and told him to assemble a team and
get to the Aitli Kingdom immediately.
Greed Island could wait. This was personal.
Kurapika's voice trembled through the speaker. Even if these weren't "his"
villagers, the existence of other survivors was a lighthouse in his dark world.
He promised to be there within forty-eight hours.
During the wait, the ruin site became a beehive of activity.
The Hunter Association dispatched a fleet of archaeological and biological
experts. The V5, meanwhile, sent agents from the Permitted Species Isolation
Agency.
Dressed in full-body hazmat suits, the agents began their survey of the
left-hand city.
The V5 officials were, unsurprisingly, irritated by Ronin's "private" blockade
of the right-hand sector.
But Ronin's response was a stone wall. He didn't outright refuse them—he just
didn't help. "If you want to explore my sector, feel free to dig your own
tunnel," he told them.
The V5 team was chronically understaffed and already overwhelmed by the
raptor-city. They grumbled and threatened "future repercussions," but eventually
yielded, focusing their resources on the more immediate threat of the alchemical
monsters.
"Aren't you worried about making an enemy of the V5?" Mashur asked, leaning
against a crate. "Those bureaucrats have a lot of pull."
The giant spiders from the earlier breach had been systematically exterminated
by the combined might of the Rock Mercenaries and the Royal Army. Without Nen,
the arachnids were just target practice for modern artillery and high-spec
rifles.
"They're just agents from the Isolation Agency," Ronin shrugged. "I'm not on
their radar yet. Besides, their authority is tiered. They deal with biological
anomalies, not sovereign property disputes."
Ronin knew the V5 was a monolith of departments. An agent tasked with counting
monsters didn't have the clearance to launch a international manhunt for a
mercenary consultant.
Mashur nodded, though his gaze lingered on the departing V5 agents with a cold,
predatory light.
The excavation of the Kurta sector continued.
Ronin mostly used Shadow Clones for the interior search. The "Vortex" aesthetic
of the sector was too unsettling for a prolonged stay.
While his main body explored the "Normal" stone-house district with Vanessa, his
clones systematically checked every domed tent in the Spiral Village.
In the process, they found more skeletons—and a series of stone monoliths
engraved with text.
The script wasn't a modern dialect, but Ronin recognized it instantly. It was
the Kurta Prayer.
Sun in the heavens, green trees on the earth. Our bodies are born of the soil,
our souls descend from the sky. The sun and moon illuminate our limbs, the green
land nourishes our flesh. We entrust our bodies to the winds that sweep the
earth, thanking the heavens for the miracle of the Kurta lands. May our hearts
forever find peace, may we share joy with our kin, and divide our sorrows.
Praise be to the Kurta people, let our crimson eyes be the witness.
Ronin stared at the text. It was identical to the prayers he remembered his
father reciting.
He began a digital search for the origin of the script. Using his borrowed
Hunter credentials, he accessed the linguistics database. The script was over a
thousand years old and had been found in ruins across the globe.
Specifically, it had appeared in two other sites.
Ronin cross-referenced the coordinates. Including the hidden village in Lukso,
the Kurta had left physical traces in four of the six major continents.
We weren't just a tribe. we were a diaspora.
The thought only deepened the mystery.
As he pondered the map, a shadow fell across his desk in the stone house.
Vanessa burst into the room, looking pale.
"Ronin. Something is happening."
She held an object in her hand. It was a tactical dagger.
"What is it?" Ronin asked.
Vanessa laid the blade on the table. Ronin's breath hitched.
The steel was warping.
The blade, which had been straight that morning, was now curved into a tight,
impossible spiral, as if the metal were trying to coil around itself.
It was exactly like the items found in the ruins.
"When did you notice?" Ronin asked, taking the dagger. He felt the cold steel,
searching for aura.
"It's the dagger Mashur gave me. I noticed a slight bend yesterday, but I
assumed I'd struck something hard. But today... look at it. It's coiling,
Ronin."
Vanessa was terrified. She was a Nen user, but this was a threat that didn't
follow the rules of aura.
"We need to leave. Now," Ronin said, standing up.
If a steel dagger could be "vortexed," what about the humans carrying it?
He thought of the twisted skeletons in the tents. The victims whose bones had
been wrung out like laundry.
This isn't just a ruin, Ronin realized. It's an active Hatsu zone. Or a
localized Calamity.
But his Shadow Clones had reported no aura in the area. No Nen. No life.
Only the plants.
He looked out the window at the glowing blue, curled leaves.
The spiral isn't an art style. It's a symptom.
☆☆☆
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