Chapter 6: The Current State of Meteor Street
Mord didn't need Zald to remind him—he already knew Meteor Street was no place to linger.
But before leaving, thorough preparations were necessary.
Beyond Meteor Street lay an endless desert.
Essential supplies like food and fresh water had to be secured in advance. Venturing out now, straight into the sea of sand, would be no different from suicide.
Before anything else, Mord needed to clarify one thing—what exactly had happened to the Rory family yesterday, and whether his identity had been exposed.
And just who were these people?
Judging by Madou's behavior before he left last night, she definitely knew something.
After a moment of contemplation, Mord turned and headed toward Meteor Street.
There was nothing unusual about it. Outside Meteor Street, among the mountainous piles of discarded waste, the lowest rung of society, clad in protective suits, scavenged through the trash.
Finding items of value within was their only means of survival.
The first impression garbage gives is usually filth, followed by stench.
But the most critical aspect is toxicity.
Many electronic and metal wastes carry poison. Even wearing so-called protective suits, a single careless moment could mean death for the scavengers.
Mord glanced at them.
Though he had seen this scene too many times in recent days, each encounter still struck him with shock.
This was the corner of the world that had been abandoned.
Meteor Street was divided into four zones.
Zone D, where Mord resided, wasn't the outermost area—that was the towering landfill before him.
Further in was Zone D, a place where garbage coexisted with residences.
Though this area also had waste, it consisted of useful scraps already sifted through by scavengers—more accurately, recyclable materials.
For the residents of Meteor Street living here, survival was everything.
The scavengers were controlled by the Rory family. The scraps they collected were exchanged for daily necessities through the Rorys.
So when Mord saw that the scavengers outside were no different from usual, he breathed a small sigh of relief.
The only place for leisure in all of Zone D was the tavern run by Madou.
Beyond that lay the true residential area of Meteor Street.
No different from an ordinary city.
Just far more chaotic—firearms, illegal drugs, underground brothels... anything illicit in the outside world could be found here.
At the very heart of Meteor Street stood the Council Church.
It was also the center of power.
It protected Meteor Street—and ruled it.
...
On his way back, Mord remained cautious the entire time, ready to bolt at the slightest disturbance.
Fortunately, the journey was smooth, and he returned to the New Star Tavern.
Early in the morning, the tavern wasn't open for business.
"I thought you'd died out there."
The familiar voice rang out the moment his right foot crossed the threshold.
Harsh, yet oddly comforting.
"Didn't we agree you'd come back at first light the next day?" Mord chuckled.
"You've got some nerve laughing. Just like my heartless girl," Madou grumbled, taking a swig of liquor.
Mord stepped forward and took the flask from the counter.
"Drinking this early isn't good for you."
Madou shot him a glare. "Liquor won't kill you. Not listening to advice will."
"So you did know about last night's incident." Mord studied her before asking, "What happened to the Rory family?"
"Dead."
Mord felt the flask slip from his grasp—somehow, it was back in Madou's hands.
She tilted her head back for another drink, her gaze growing distant.
"The entire household, including old Rory, seventy-two people in total, were all killed—no survivors."
Although he had anticipated this outcome, Mord still took a sharp breath when he heard it with his own ears.
Such a heinous incident was rare even in Meteor City, especially when it targeted a regional authority figure.
The last time something like this happened was when those freaks who were considered outliers even in Meteor City were still around.
"Who were the perpetrators?" Mord asked.
From Madou's reaction, Mord could deduce that the attackers were also from Meteor City. Because Meteor City was fiercely united against outsiders—only we can kill our own—that was the consensus among its people.
Over a decade ago, a brutal murder occurred in the Republic of Gali.
After investigation, the suspect was identified as a homeless man without an ID, who was quickly arrested. But when they checked his identity, something bizarre happened—the man had no nationality, no proof of existence in any society.
All they knew was that he claimed to be a resident of Meteor City. The country forcibly prosecuted the homeless man, who denied the charges, and the court gave him no chance to defend himself, sentencing him directly to death.
Three years later, a drug-addicted criminal was arrested, and during the investigation, it was revealed that he was the real culprit behind that old case.
This proved the homeless man from Meteor City was innocent. Then, something eerie happened.
Shortly after, the police officer, judge, prosecutor, eyewitnesses, jury members, lawyer—all 31 people involved in the wrongful conviction—were killed. The method of the killings? It was said they used trigger-activated bombs, dying together with their targets, akin to suicide. Witnesses described them shaking hands with their victims, smiling, before the bombs detonated. Thirty-one people in different locations were blown up simultaneously.
So, if outsiders had attacked the Rory family this time, the entirety of Meteor City would have already mobilized by now.
"They're a bunch of lunatics," Madou glanced at Mord and said, "Running into those guys and making it back alive—you've got some tough luck, kid."
"This matter involves too much behind the scenes. It's a massive whirlpool—once you get involved, you might never escape, doomed forever."
"These days, you stay in the tavern's backyard. Don't go anywhere! Understood?"
By the end, her tone was severe, almost commanding.
Mord looked up at Madou, knowing she meant well, and nodded.
"Don't think just because you followed that foreigner and learned Nen, you're invincible. In a conflict of this scale, someone as small and weak as you wouldn't last a second."
Mord knew his recent actions couldn't be hidden from Madou.
But he could also hear the concern in her words.
"Got it, Sis Madou."
This was a good time to plan carefully and prepare for his eventual departure from Meteor City.
But sometimes, trouble finds you even when you don't seek it.
That's just how the world works.