Items infused with Nen—Joey was well aware of them. For some Conjurers, crafting such things wasn't hard at all. Even certain non-users who had honed their craft to the extreme could imbue their personal tools with Nen, albeit unintentionally.
But of all such items, Joey had never seen one that actually functioned effectively in combat.
The pig-headed man's cleaver appeared to be one such item—enhancing combat ability.
Exactly how it enhanced or supported battle, though, was something Joey couldn't know without further analysis.
He didn't recklessly go pick up the blade himself. Instead, he sent his clone into the room to retrieve it.
The room reeked of burnt flesh, blood, and rot—an overwhelming stench.
Luckily, since it was only his clone, and Joey had sealed off its olfactory sense, it felt nothing.
But the moment the clone touched the cleaver, an unusual urge bloomed in Joey's heart.
A violent compulsion to hack everything to pieces.
Following that instinct, Joey guided his clone to raise the cleaver—and immediately, every ounce of Nen infused into the clone surged toward the weapon.
A powerful aura erupted in the room. But there was no target for the raised blade.
Then, all at once, Joey lost control of the cleaver.
It twisted unnaturally, dragging the clone's arm into a reverse joint with a sickening crack—the arm snapped backwards.
And yet, with inhuman precision, the severed arm still brought the cleaver down.
Shhk—
The clone was cleaved in two, its own Nen-laced weapon bisecting it down the center.
No blood spilled.
The clone merely disintegrated.
The cleaver clattered to the floor with a metallic ring. Its intense aura faded, now dull and dormant, leaving only a faint residual Nen signature.
To anyone else, it now looked like a perfectly ordinary kitchen cleaver.
Joey stood in the distance, his expression dark with focus.
"This thing's cursed," he muttered. "But the overall ability is clear enough. It's a special Manipulator-type weapon. Its activation condition is tied to the intent to kill."
"If that murderous impulse gets absorbed by the cleaver, the attack becomes inevitable. And before it strikes, the blade siphons Nen from the wielder—amplifying it to an extreme. But if there's no valid target nearby, the cleaver may turn on its user."
"Sounds about right," came a gruff voice—Nakuru, standing beside him, still groggy.
He hadn't touched the cleaver himself, but after witnessing it used multiple times during his captivity, he had a decent grasp of its nature. His understanding aligned with Joey's assessment.
"In that case, we'll keep it," Joey said. "Could come in handy."
He made no move to touch the cleaver himself, nor did he create another clone.
Instead, he glanced around, locking onto a nearby flowerpot.
It held some unknown plant. Joey yanked it out and tossed it aside. Then he placed a hand on the pot.
Golden Experience's Nen flowed into it. Within seconds, the pot transformed into a monkey, blinking and twitching.
It glanced at Joey, then cheerfully bounded toward the room—clearly annoyed by the stench, but obedient.
It picked up the cleaver and returned.
Meanwhile, Joey's En had already detected soldiers approaching.
Even without any thunderous noise, their brief battle hadn't gone unnoticed.
"Time to move."
He gave the order, and the pressure suit wrapped around Nakuru's body slowly dissipated.
But the wind beast of Weather Report still cradled him aloft.
They moved quickly, Joey and the cleaver-wielding monkey vanishing down a corridor.
"The Royal Army came after you?" Joey asked while scanning for enemies. "Why? What about Morel? Do you know where he is?"
He didn't ask more than that.
These four questions were the most important right now—and he doubted Nakuru, in his condition, could answer much more.
A quick glance told Joey the guy was severely injured.
His weather beast snapped its fingers again, and a swirl of mist carried Joey up to Nakuru.
The moment Nakuru realized what Joey was doing, he didn't resist.
They'd fought together in the East Gorteau War—he trusted Joey's moves.
He braced himself, trying not to scream from the pain as healing began.
Through clenched teeth and heavy breathing, Nakuru began speaking, trying to distract himself from the agony.
"You came from outside, right? Then you must've noticed the black miasma hovering around the outer shell of the BW. It's subtle, but there."
So it really did connect to the black aura…
Joey wasn't surprised. When he first learned Morel's team was in trouble, he'd suspected as much.
Back at his place, Morel had told him about his mission as a Sea Hunter.
They weren't supposed to stay onboard all the time.
Occasionally, they needed to leave the BW to explore the surrounding waters.
But ever since the black aura began rising, leaving the ship had become incredibly dangerous.
Twenty meters—that was now a death zone.
If Morel's team had stepped outside, they would've realized immediately.
And the Royal Army surely knew this too.
Which meant they only had two options:
Let Morel's team investigate—clearly impossible.
Or eliminate them before they reported anything.
Most likely, from the moment the black aura appeared, the Army had already decided to strike—no warnings, no subtlety.
Just a clean kill.
They executed it well.
Nakuru's next words confirmed Joey's thoughts.
But there were also things he hadn't anticipated.
Like this: the aura's original danger radius wasn't 20 meters—it started at 50.
It had shrunk drastically.
Soon, merely stepping outside the BW might trigger a vicious vengeful Nen attack.
The one who discovered this was a member of Morel's team—someone who could control fish.
A fitting trait for a Sea Hunter.
But by the time this intel came back, the Royal Army had already begun their assault.
Worse yet, they'd intentionally split the team beforehand.
There were seven members total. Two-man teams scouted the sea.
One was support—equipment specialist, constantly sought out by the Army for odd jobs.
But he was always accompanied by Xiuto. Even if ambushed, the two together could hold their own.
With Xiuto's ability and his supply kits, even a large-scale ambush wouldn't be fatal.
The other four—
Morel had been called away by the ship captain to discuss the route.
A new island had appeared—likely the back of a massive sea creature.
Morel took the team's biological analyst with him to investigate.
That left Nakuru alone onboard—and he was the one ambushed.
His ability wasn't suitable for group combat. He didn't stand a chance.
Still, two things became clear during his capture:
One—the biological expert was killed.
Two—Morel vanished. He hadn't been caught.
As for Xiuto—just as Nakuru had hoped, he also escaped.
In a moment of lucidity, Nakuru recalled hearing a commotion in the corridors above. Someone was making moves.
The two Sea Scouts were probably still alive as well.
They had two options:
Investigate the upper decks, or dive into the sea and try to contact the Hunter Association.
But Joey disagreed.
"If the two Sea Hunters had reached the Association, I would've known," he said flatly. "The intel I received wasn't from them—it came from the Association noticing your silence and sending a search team."
"But even that team—after entering the upper levels—lost contact."
"Chairman Cheadle is negotiating with the Royal Army now, but you know how this works. They'll stall until you're either dead—or irrelevant."
"Only other option: Cheadle's agents succeed in pulling you all back to the Association, which would put the Army on the defensive."
"There is… one more possibility."
Joey's tone darkened.
"The Royal Army isn't worried about any intel getting out.
Which means… they're already done. Everything's in place. Time to close the net."
After Nakuru explained the situation, Joey shared his own analysis.
It left Nakuru rattled.
"You know more about this black aura than you're letting on. Don't you?" he asked.
"Yeah," Joey admitted. "And it might even be partially my fault that it appeared early."
No point hiding it now.
More minds meant better solutions.
Even if Nakuru couldn't help directly, he could still deliver intel.
"I'll get you off this deck," Joey said. "You can't fight yet—not after what I did to patch you up."
"It looks like you're healed, but really, the new flesh I gave you still needs to settle. If you start throwing punches now, your guts will rip open and spill out."
"I could fix them again, sure. But trust me—re-making intestines is not fun."
Joey scowled dramatically.
Nakuru's face turned a little dark.
He knew Joey was right, but he didn't need the imagery.
Still, by the time he opened his mouth, they'd already reached the deck.
A huge crowd had gathered.
Joey placed a hand on a nearby iron door.
He remembered a giant bird species from the top of the World Tree—
capable of carrying a person through the skies.
Back then, he didn't just take pictures—he'd studied the fauna.
Golden Experience's aura flooded into the door.
After about a minute, the metal twisted and grew, forming into a massive bird.
The thing looked a bit dopey, blinking at Nakuru—
then promptly grabbed him around the waist with its beak.
"Hey hey hey! You could use your claws!" Nakuru clutched his stomach, terrified Joey's predictions would come true in real time.
"Relax. Gray's got finesse," Joey said. "Go find Cheadle and deliver the intel. I'll stay here and find Morel and Xiuto. And someone from the Association really needs to investigate the aura on the hull."
Joey didn't elaborate.
He figured Nakuru could guess that he wasn't going after the Sea Scouts right now.
With a final pat on the bird's wing, Joey sent them skyward.
But his En had a limit.
As the bird rose, it slipped out of range—and into the Royal Army's line of sight.
They saw Nakuru instantly.
But instead of panicking, the soldiers reacted calmly—
raising their guns and taking aim.
Gunfire, stomping feet, blaring sirens—
chaos erupted across the deck.
Joey, unfazed, slipped back into the ship—
monkey and cursed cleaver in tow.
(End of Chapter)