Chapter 170: A Normal Date—Meeting the Devil

As Auren and Neffi approach the company building, Auren’s eyes are drawn to the small but noticeable sign above the entrance.“Mithrilweave Productions”

“A little silly, isn’t it?” Auren asks, staring at the sign.

“I... I didn’t have any better ideas, and I was told to rename it! The old company was named after some rich idiot!” Neffi says defensively. “I just picked something from the games and stories I like!”

“It’s fine,” Auren replies, a faint smile on his lips. “Trying to make your dreams real isn’t a bad thing. This is cutting-edge tech, after all, so a little bit of fantasy should be allowed. Lead the way, Miss Company owner.”

“Jerk!” she says, pressing on.

Under Neffi’s lead, Auren steps into the building.

Immediately, the receptionist perks up—at first looking puzzled by the two young visitors. However, after a closer look, recognition flashes across her face, and she immediately reacts, panic beginning to overtake her.

Trying to control herself, she quickly stands and hurries over, smiling nervously.

“Welcome, Miss Caras,” she says politely. “It’s such a pleasure to welcome you again. I see you’ve brought a guest. Welcome to you as well, young sir. Please, allow me to take your luggage and guide you throu—”

“No need,” Auren says, interrupting her, waving his hand dismissively. “Just relax.”

“Yeah,” Neffi agrees. “I know the way. We’re going straight to the research department—we’re not here to waste time.”

“I... I see. Of course. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask,” the secretary says, stepping aside, a hint of relief washing over her.

Ignoring her completely, Neffi confidently walks forward, Auren following just behind her.

It doesn’t take long before they head downstairs and arrive at their destination—a large basement room filled with workers at long benches, busy with experiments. The sharp scent of chemicals hangs in the air.

Auren notices a variety of advanced machines operating in complex ways, whirring and clicking as they work.

“We’re using electrospinning, melt blowing, and centrifugal spinning to produce our nanofibres,” Neffi explains casually. “And a few chemical processes, too. They are also experimenting with new things, but I really don’t know all the boring details. As long as they produce beautiful and highly durable clothes, I am more than happy! My new outfit is incredible. I haven’t shown it to anyone yet, but you’ll be mindblown. You might be able to glide or fly a short distance, but I...! Anyway, the company holds quite a few patents. Konrad said it’s actually really solid, and we are in a great spot, even at the currently turbulent market. He even wanted to invest—but Master offered me unlimited funding, so I didn’t bother.”

Turbulent market, huh? Now, whose fault is that?

She pauses before adding, “Looks like Rakshala’s pouring money into a bunch of different companies, all controlled by one of our own. We’re even supplying the same clothes and armor to everyone on our side, especially the people working the frontlines.”

She means our spies... the same spies I focused on healing. A less flattering name would be terrorists or saboteurs. I wonder what they did to end up injured like that.

“So you’ve expanded from military contracts to outfitting our people directly? Smart move,” Auren says. “Though it could arouse suspicion.”

“We still do the contracts—but only for mass-produced mediocre gear. Anyway, come on. This old guy’s going to handle your stuff personally,” Neffi says, walking deeper into the lab. “He came up with the design and created your current gear.”

She stops in front of a middle-aged man, who immediately scowls at her.

“Kid, you are back again? Are you bored and came to play? Get lost, you make me go crazy!” he growls. “I told you to just send a message if you need anything! You’re distracting everyone—get lost already!”

“Shut up or I’ll dock your pay again!” Neffi snaps at him angrily.

“You little... I swear—” the man raises a fist in frustration, then sighs and lowers it with a defeated look.

“What do you want? You even brought a friend! This is not a place to play around, now what is it?” he asks, rubbing his temples, staring at Auren, then back at Neffi.

“I guess I’m the one who requested this,” Auren steps in calmly. “I tested the flying suit you made for me—extensively. I’ve got plenty of data and a few small suggestions. I’ve clocked at least twenty hours of use, and I’d like a few modifications done.”

Auren pulls out a set of notes and his old suit, which he’s been carrying in a backpack, and hands them over.

“Hmph, at least you seem reasonable—and even somewhat polite,” the man grumbles, flipping through the papers. “And it looks like you’ve done your research. Good... not bad. Now tell me everything you require, as well as your experience flying this suicide suit. I don’t know anything about Nen or Aura. I only deal in the one thing that actually matters... science, and this Nen scam is all but scientific.”

This guy’s really annoying, but at least he’s honest...

Auren begins describing his test flight in detail, going over every issue he encountered. The balance is slightly off. The wings, while functional, are awkward to wear—they hang behind his back and get in the way when not in use. Without Aura, they’re difficult to manage and look silly as well. And even with Aura, the wing design lacks enough openings for his Aura, making precise control frustrating as he can only adjust his Aura in certain ways.

He lists every flaw, from major design issues to minor annoyances.

“You’re more perceptive than I expected,” the man says, scratching his chin. “I’ll keep all of this in mind for future designs. Leave the old suit here, and I’ll start on the new version. You’re authorizing the funds, right, little Miss?”

“I’ll hire someone to monitor every step,” Neffi snaps, jabbing her finger at his chest. “Try to embezzle even a single Jenny, and I’ll not only slash your pay—I’ll sue you and make you work like a literal slave for the rest of your life!”

“...Slave driver,” the man mutters under his breath—only to flinch when Neffi pokes him again, harder this time.

“M—monstrous savag—” he begins, mumbling silently. “Fine! Just give me a little budget, alright?”

“As much as you need,” Auren says firmly. “If money helps, take a few hundred million. I’m paying.”

“R—really?” the man says, his expression brightening immediately.

“If you scam him,” Neffi cuts in coldly, “I’ll make sure you lose a third of your blood in under an hour. I’ll bleed you dry like a pig!”

“No need, no need!” the man says quickly, waving both hands. “I’ll deliver results. Satisfactory ones. You can rely on me, boy.”

“We’ll see,” Auren replies, crossing his arms. “I expect results.”

With their business finished, Neffi spends a few more hours talking with her staff, going over unrelated matters. Once she’s done, they finally leave the building.

Rather than heading straight back to the airship, they decide to spend some time walking around Yorknew. They eat cake, catch a movie, and wrap up the day at a nice restaurant.

For Auren, who rarely experiences days this normal, the outing is unexpectedly pleasant. Neffi, however, looks a little tense.

“What’s wrong?” Auren asks, stuffing a heap of noodles into his mouth.

“N...Nothing!” Neffi blurts, poking at the food on her plate. “Just not that hungry.”

“Well, thank you for today,” Auren says, his voice calm. “I had fun. And it looks like your employee’s going to deliver what I asked for.”

He pauses, then adds, “Let’s hope tomorrow goes just as smoothly... though, knowing Pariston referred me to those people, I doubt it. Still, I’ll manage somehow.”

“Y—Yes! I’ll help you!” Neffi says quickly, nodding with determination. “Don’t worry—it’ll go well! You even prepared a whole lot, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Auren answers. His expression shifts—becoming cold. “And if not... I have Eternity with me.”

After finishing their meal, the two return to the airship. Neffi clings to Auren’s arm the whole way. He doesn’t exactly enjoy it, but reluctantly permits it, especially after seeing Neffi smile, clearly enjoying it.

As they arrive at the dock, Auren notices a small truck parked beside the airship.

“Looks like Goreinu actually did his job,” he comments. “That should be enough to transport my items to the meeting.”

A few minutes later, they step inside the airship. Goreinu and Jolt are in the lounge, casually drinking and watching television.

“Back already from your little date?” Goreinu asks, clearly drunk.

“I guess so,” Auren replies casually, causing Neffi’s cheeks to flush red, as he didn’t deny it.

“You did a good job with the truck. You can drink, but don’t overdo it. We’ve got work tomorrow,” Auren states.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have it under control,” Goreinu says, draining the rest of his glass.

“Sure,” Auren says, sitting down beside them.

Neffi quickly joins him, settling in at his side.

The four of them sit together for a while longer, chatting lightly, before eventually heading off to bed.

The next morning, Auren goes over the details of the meeting.

It’s set to take place in a large hotel within the city—a place that offers spacious event rooms for various kinds of gatherings.

Probably Hotel Beitacle... no... what am I thinking? I have these random pieces of information in my head. What is that hotel even? Whatever....

The event itself isn’t scheduled to begin until 2 PM, so the group has a lot of time left.

With nothing else to do, Auren and Neffi go outside for a bit, buy some food for breakfast, and return to the airship shortly after.

“What’s going to happen later?” Goreinu asks, stretching as he wakes up.

“Not much,” Auren replies with a shrug. “You’ll be acting as my bodyguard. That’s why I told you to bring a suit. Neffi will be with you.”

He pauses briefly, then adds, “Pariston’s handled the rest of the arrangements. I also spoke with Ura and Oron—they confirmed it’s a high-class collector meeting. I’ll be spending whatever it takes. Hopefully, I’ll find a few worthwhile additions.”

“Now... let’s get moving! I don’t want to be late, I heard Yorknew’s traffic is a real bitch,” Auren states.

In an hour, arriving at exactly 12:30 PM, a good 90 minutes before the event, Auren’s truck, operated by a nervous Goreinu, who looks and drives visibly uncomfortable, arrives at the Hotel. Not surprisingly, it’s not Hotel Beitacle, but a large Hotel complex that’s seemingly walled off from all sides. Still, the staff, after confirming Auren’s identity, lets them pass, and Goreinu drives inside.

As Auren, Goreinu, and Neffi unload their items at the nearby parking lot, Auren spots a young man in a luxurious suit walking by.

For some reason intrigued, Auren glances at him, only for his body to freeze.

Despite never meeting the man, a name immediately appears in his head.

Tserriednich!