'smack'
A snap of the fingers, crisp and melodious.
It echoed in the air, bringing a touch of clarity to this chaos.
In the distance, the chaotic figures seemed to be struggling, their movements slowing slightly for a moment.
But this still couldn't stop the deep-seated curse; the limbs, as if controlled by zombie worms, were stuck together, baring their fangs and claws.
Like a human pyramid, they were stacked layer upon layer on top of the treasure chest.
But was it really a treasure?
Manster whistled, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Are pirates this poor these days? It's just a chest of gold, isn't it?"
Gold, for ordinary people, may still be priceless.
But among hunters who are full of Nen user, it is the most common and worthless treasure.
Its value is no more than that of ordinary currency, like that of Jenie.
Of course, the trade should be for exotic beasts and treasures, the gall of magical beasts, the heart of spirit beasts, and the eyes of monsters—these are things that are hard to come by and rarely encountered in a lifetime.
Or perhaps, it's the exotic crystals and miraculous herbs that are worth the hunters' fervor.
These pirates, who can survive at sea, are no ordinary people; if it were just a chest of gold...
Manster, who had initially been mocking him, suddenly realized something was wrong.
He squinted, staring intently at the splashed gold coins, scrutinizing them closely, and in a daze, he caught a glimpse of black smoke.
The gas felt like tiny tentacles, fuzzy and giving you goosebumps.
It doesn't seem like a harmless thing at all!
"How can gold possibly tempt people?" Coleman leaned against the stone door and said slowly, "It's something intangible."
What you care about most will become what you are.
To a money-loving person, it is an invaluable treasure.
For those who cherish life, it is the path to immortality.
To those who revere force, it is a peerless weapon or a miraculous elixir.
In short, a curse, or rather, a lure, can stir up the deepest desires hidden in any living thing.
For example, right now, in Coleman's eyes, that treasure chest doesn't even exist.
There was only a bloody, mangled mass of rotten flesh, the contents of which were completely unrecognizable.
It was clearly a disgusting heap of blood, yet it was placed so cleverly.
That was a scenario he could never achieve.
After all, no human can grow fleshy wings, let alone wings with black and white feathers.
No one else can have such a bloated belly while maintaining the same limb proportions as a normal person.
Those are angels and demons that only exist in vague imagination.
It refers to what exists in Coleman's memory.
It was nauseating, making him want to vomit, yet it also possessed a beauty that sent shivers down his spine.
"Death and rebirth are always exciting, even nerve-wracking topics." Looking at the treasure chest with a hint of appreciation, Coleman said, almost with a sigh, "It's just too ugly."
Too ugly, too beautiful.
Dirty and filthy, yet sacred and elegant.
Licking his chapped lips, Coleman felt a long-lost sense of excitement.
He began to anticipate what inspiration the Lord of Curses would bring him.
Manster noticed that something was wrong with his boss, but he didn't say anything, not even a word of advice or concern.
They simply moved aside, showing great self-awareness.
After standing still, I felt something was off, so I moved a little further away again.
He discreetly observed Coleman, and sure enough, he noticed that the guy's eyes were turning red again!
It churned like lava, yet showed no warmth.
It surged like an underground river, yet also resounded with a deafening roar.
He was caught between calmness and madness.
Silently wondering why the Lord of Curses lit a candle, Manster decided to find a safe place to watch the show.
He didn't know what his boss had seen, but he could always guess something.
Yet, a sense of unease crept in: was this worthless gold the deepest desire within me?
Am I really that materialistic?!
Manster had a moment of self-doubt, but quickly dismissed the idea.
It must be some lousy master or something; they guessed wrong and are incompetent.
Do you think I, the head of such a large intelligence station, would be tempted by a little money?
Having successfully calmed himself down, Manster used his Nen and special spider silk to carve a small stool for himself, waiting to watch the show unfold.
If he were to ask Coleman at this moment, he would know.
It's not that he loves money.
Rather... Manster had no desires.
This man had not a single desire for anything in this world.
Therefore, the illusion Lord of Curses was, in his eyes, merely a result of Manster's assumption that there would be treasure in the chest.
That's how the treasure came to be.
But that makes sense; after all, someone who enjoys living in the shadows probably sees nothing differently.
Everything in this world is but a grand play, which will always come to an end and will always begin again.
He was just an observer; he could simply watch.
"When you get back, remember to try and coax the Golden British Shorthair." Suddenly, Coleman spoke, his tone still lazy.
It seemed that everything that had just happened had no effect on him.
If it weren't for the lingering red in his eyes.
Manster, lost in his own world, paused, then realized what someone was talking about and helplessly shrugged. "Well, there's nothing I can do if I can't fool them."
Coleman laughed. "He'll be fooled."
Taking advantage of people's kindness is a very immoral thing to do.
Coleman did it so much that he didn't feel anything anymore.
It's just moral blackmail; the Golden British Shorthair won't just stand by and watch a living person slowly walk towards death.
Thinking of this, Coleman's eyes crinkled slightly, then he added, "Give the boxes on the ship to Little Yi later."
Otherwise, Illumi angry, it will be a real problem for Manster.
"Hey, don't talk so pessimistically. What if you survive?" Manster couldn't help but retort. Coleman wasn't one to give up easily.
To this, his white-haired boss simply smiled and said, "I won't die."
Then he quickly changed the subject, his tone becoming slightly serious. "Hide well, the show is about to begin!"
As the voice faded, the Curse Flame surrounding Coleman was uncontrollably drawn in.
They gathered towards the center of the hall.
The team, which had just been arguing and stacked like a human pyramid, had vanished without a trace.
There was only a bunch of black mud clumps that looked like human figures.
The lump of mud at the top was still struggling, and the melting mouth was still murmuring.
"Mine, I'll use it to save my wife, save her... save her..."
Purple patterns flickered on the ground surrounding the black mass, rising and falling intermittently, accompanied by the murmurs of an unknown being.
The sound was like the chanting of Brahma, or the whispers of hell; though not loud, it sent shivers down one's spine.
Standing on the periphery, Coleman remained unmoved by all of this, his gaze fixed on the lump of black mud.
"What an unlucky bunch, how pathetic."