Return to the Human World

The Lord of Crows' flesh was burning hot, and Gelman could feel the flow of its breath and the displacement of its organs. 🎈🐧 ☺💛

Gelman rubbed his fingers together without hesitation, and the bronze flamethrower materialized inside the Lord of Crows' abdominal cavity, pressing against its pulsating organs.

In a flash of lightning, the Lord of Crows seemed to know its fate and, regardless of the cost, pecked at Gelman again, its beak like a suspended sharp blade.

Gelman pulled the trigger.

Whoosh—a chilling heat erupted from the inside out, burning everything flammable, blood and flesh, spewing from the Lord of Crows' open beak. The smell of scorching filled the air instantly.

At this moment, Gelman released his hands, kicked the Lord of Crows' wing, and used the force to propel himself towards the ground.

The Lord of Crows didn't pursue him; it was burning, but the small crows were still relentlessly harassing him.

With the flock of crows in hot pursuit, he landed with his hands covering his face.

The reeds, as tall as trees, cushioned his fall as he tumbled into the mud, his thighs sinking in up to their knees.

Gelman could only lie flat on the mud as much as possible to slow his descent.

Fortunately, those annoying little crows didn't come to peck him anymore.

The giant fireball that the Lord of Crows had transformed into also fell, landing with a thud in front of Gelman and the reed forest.

Mud splattered everywhere, and the reed forest caught fire, spreading into a conflagration in an instant, with thick smoke billowing upwards.

The flock of crows circled in the air, letting out cries that were either mournful or cursing. They didn't descend but flew towards their nests deep within the reed forest.

Gelman reached out his arm, grabbed the Lord of Crows' unmoving wing, and used it to pull his legs out of the mud before climbing out of the muddy area.

Covered in mud and wounds, he stood to the side, quietly watching the Lord of Crows burn.

Almost all of its eyeballs were closed, but upon closer inspection, the single eye on its head was wide open, as scarlet as a "Hokage Eye."

Gelman looked at his left arm again. The three eyeballs had completely disappeared, leaving only three gashes oozing black pus.

Good thing I won... but in this state, I probably can't continue exploring.

The dangers of the Dark Continent, besides the terrifying unknown creatures, were its vastness. Once you ventured deep, your supply lines would be stretched infinitely.

No one could predict what would happen on this route; whether the vanguard expedition teams could return or if the logistics teams could keep up were all uncertainties.

If Gelman didn't have the "Third Lantern," he would now have to drag his battered body and grit his teeth, returning the way he came.

A disabled body was bound to attract covetous eyes, and it was no wonder that previous human exploration teams had perished here countless times.

Therefore, Gelman was fortunate.

After confirming he had obtained a new "Grudge bestowal," he dug out the Lord of Crows' single eye from its socket himself.

Holding the eyeball in his palm, Gelman could feel the residual curse and grudge within it.

Holding it for a short time was fine, but if the holding time exceeded a certain limit, it would disrupt the holder's mind and radiate this curse to a certain surrounding area.

Gelman wasn't sure if the holding time limit was three days, three weeks, or three months, but this eyeball indeed possessed genuine curse abilities.

It was likely that only a Nen exorcist or Gelman's "Hunter Badge" could completely cleanse the eye of its grudge.

However, Gelman didn't absorb this grudge. He placed the "Lord of Crows' single eye" into his backpack, thinking he might have an opportunity to sell it later.

Shouldering his backpack again, Gelman planted the "Third Lantern" next to the muddy area.

[ ]

Light and a little imp arrived as promised.

He took one last look at the reed forest and, led by the imp, was teleported back to the human world in the blink of an eye through the lantern's light.

January 14th, 2:00 AM.

Everything was silent.

In his room at the Opera Hotel, Gelman lit the lantern's faint glow, then extinguished it.

Without time to confirm his current condition, he staggered out of his room and went to the adjacent one, knocking on the door.

There was no response after a long while. Just as Gelman was wondering if Machi was sleeping too soundly, the light in the room turned on, and footsteps approached.

The door creaked open.

Machi stood at the doorway. She wasn't accustomed to wearing pajamas, so she was still in the clothes she wore during the day, though her ponytail was loose, falling messily over her shoulders, and her eyes looked displeased.

Although Machi slept lightly and remained vigilant, being woken up in the middle of the night would still make her angry.

"I really didn't expect you to come at this hour..."

Before Machi could finish her prepared sarcastic remark, she saw Gelman covered in wounds, blood dripping like rain onto the floor, and his robes stained with caked mud.

Did he fight an enemy in the mud?

She swallowed the rest of her words, frowned, moved aside, and said, "Come in first and lie down on the sofa."

Machi was still very responsible about her work.

Gelman entered Machi's room as instructed.

The layout here was similar to Gelman's room. He walked straight through the living area and lay down on the long sofa.

Machi took out a small cloth bag she carried with her and crouched beside Gelman.

"Next, I'll clean your wounds and stop the bleeding, then I'll perform 'Nen Thread Suturing.' You must cooperate with me throughout the entire process and maintain a state of 'Zetsu'."

Maintaining 'Zetsu' means not using 'Nen' for defense, which is the most vulnerable state for a Nen user.

Gelman agreed without hesitation and, following Machi's command, took off his wet, sticky Hunter robe from the upper half of his body, tossing it aside.

He didn't trust Machi; he trusted his own judgment.

"These wounds, and the amount of blood lost..." Machi's eyes scanned Gelman's upper body, then she began cleaning the wounds, speaking coldly, "You're lucky you made it to my door."

In reality, it wasn't entirely luck. Gelman's 'Physique' had 20 points, not as high as Uvogin, another member of the Phantom Troupe, but enough to save his life.

Lying on the sofa, Gelman had felt dizzy on his way over, but now he was much clearer-headed, his black eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm starting."

Machi took out a needle, Nen Thread passed through the small hole, and it wriggled nimbly.

The next moment, her hands transformed into a bewildering blur of afterimages, her fingers, the needle, and the Nen Thread gradually becoming indistinguishable.

"Right shoulder sutured."

"Left arm sutured."

"The small wounds in front are sutured. Roll over."

"All small wounds on your back have been sutured."

Machi had dealt with countless similar injuries; she was highly experienced.

This time, her wound cleaning and suturing were again fast and excellent. Her 'Nen Thread Suturing,' capable of mending nerves, would also aid in the future healing of the wounds.

In less than ten minutes, Machi completed her artistic procedure, enough to make most surgeons and emergency room doctors feel ashamed.